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Staff@FarOutMag

Fri 2 December 2022 18:30, UK

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Hollywood expected a euphoric rise in the popularity of the movie industry following World War II, but in actuality, the result was far more tumultuous. Inflation and labour unrest made filmmaking an expensive game in America, whilst the advent of television in the late 1940s had presented an unprecedented threat to the silver screen. Clamming for a solution, the industry tried to distance itself from its small-screen rivals, transitioning from the then-standard 1.37:1 ratio to wider formats that invited grander epics throughout the 1950s, steadily building the groundwork for the movie boom of the 1960s.

Thanks to such lavish epics as The Robe, the first to be filmed in anamorphic widescreen, and John Ford’s sprawling saga The Searchers, which slammed the book shut on the traditional American western movie, cinema was ready for greatness in the 1960s. During a decade of fun, fashion, rock ‘n’ roll and dramatic social change, cinema worked to reflect such a significant cultural transition, loosening up in tandem with the archaic Hollywood studio era, which was crumbling to its demise.

A major period of change and disruption for western cinema, the decade of transition allowed world cinema to stamp its mark on the world. 1963 represented the worst year for US film production in 50 years, with only 121 feature films released to 361 foreign releases in the same year. With this came the influence of international cinema, following the emergence of such illustrious names like Werner Herzog, Jacques Rivette, Yasujirô Ozu and Akira Kurosawa.

The icons of international cinema found their names gaining a firmer grip on the contemporary industry. French cinema particularly enjoyed a flourishing, frenetic time of great change, with the New Wave movement redefining national cinema for a new generation. Integral in such change were the likes of the late Jean-Luc Godard, François Truffaut and Alan Resnais.

Dominating arthouse cinema throughout the decade, Godard, in particular, emerged as a significant talent, sprinkling his six definitive films Breathless, Contempt, Bande à Part, Alphaville, Pierrot le Fou and Week-End throughout the ‘60s. Together with his fellow French pioneers, Godard made filmmaking look as expressive as an artist’s canvas, full of the same curious flourishes and spontaneous frissons of joy.

Meanwhile, the popularisation of Japanese cinema had a vast impact on the future of the industry, as the films of Akira Kurosawa came to the attention of American filmmakers. Whilst his previous 1950s classics, such as Rashomon, Ikiru and Seven Samurai, reached a wider audience, the filmmaker continued his incredible run in the 1960s. With such films as Yojimbo, Sanjuro and High and Low, Kurosawa would reach unprecedented artistic heights.

Even with the great influence of world cinema, the American industry still flourished, with the landscape benefiting towards the end of the decade thanks to the abolishment of The Hays Code, a set of self-imposed industry set of guidelines for all motion pictures which prohibited profanity, nudity, graphic violence and more. With the end of the Hays Code came the establishment of the MPAA in 1968, breaking the shackles of the American film industry and opening the door for increased experimentation at the end of the decade and into the 1970s.

This culminates in our list of the 100 best films of the 1960s, including a plethora of films from all around the world, representing cinema from the Czech Republic, Japan, America, India, China, Great Britain, France, Poland and many more. While evaluating the impact of world cinema from across the decade, our list attempts to shed light on those films that often go unnoticed under the looming shadow of Hollywood.

Speaking to the sheer quality of cinema throughout the decade, our list is guilty of omitting some popular classics that were among the most commercially successful of the era. As well as leaving out the likes of Disney’s Mary Poppins and The Jungle Book, we also couldn’t find space for such James Bond hits as Goldfinger and Thunderball, the two Sean Connery-led flicks that helped to kickstart the 007 craze.

Also omitted from the exclusive list were a number of Best Picture winners, including Jerome Robbins and Robert Wise’s West Side Story, the Audrey Hepburn film My Fair Lady, Fred Zinnemann’s 1966 film A Man for All Seasons and the celebrated Sidney Poitier film In the Heat of the Night. There’s no doubt that we consider each aforementioned film a classic of the era, but the ‘60s provide some stiff cinematic competition.

As for the movies and filmmakers that made the cut, look at our list of the 100 best films of the 1960s below, where the likes of Stanley Kubrick, Akira Kurosawa, Federico Fellini, Ingmar Bergman, Andrei Tarkovsky and Miloš Forman are rightfully celebrated.

The 100 best movies of the 1960s

100. Salesman (Maysles brothers, 1969)

This documentary follows four salesmen as they visit low-income neighbourhoods in New England and southeast Florida, selling large, expensive Bibles and attending a Chicago sales meeting.

Salesman explores an unsettling yet stylistic display of desperation, as we see failing salesmen who are in too deep to search for another line of work. The Maysles Brothers don’t hold back on the bitterness residing in this unsuccessful work, exemplified in some beaten-down characters who resort to manipulation to make sales. This laces in some effective commentary on the American business model, with harrowing brutality infiltrating the onscreen events. In between the occasional hardships and humiliation, there are vibrant moments of humour that elevate this gem.

99. Chronicle of a Summer (Jean Rouch, Edgar Morin, 1961)

Using real-life interviews, filmmakers create fictional moments based on subjects like society, happiness in the working class, and others. The individuals then discuss the images they created.

The film is a structurally inventive example of cinéma vérité, a combination of improvisation with the use of the camera to unveil truth or highlight subjects hidden behind reality. That’s exactly why Chronicle of a Summer is cited as one of the best documentary films ever made. Rouch and Morin flourish artistically through harmony between sentiment and experimenting, as actors are allowed to speak freely and, in turn, achieve authenticity. This helps create a touching atmosphere that captivates audiences’ emotional investment effortlessly.

98. A Married Couple (Allan King, 1969)

A couple allows cameras into their home to document the domestic crisis they are experiencing. What follows is a story of laughter, tears, wit, tenderness, anger, patience, pain, and sorrow.

A Married Couple is an insightful and captivating invitation into domestic relations, shown using a naturalistic tone that conveys its material perfectly. Between the conflicts and divisions that marriage can bring, there is still a fighting feeling of affection and love. The camera oscillates between a fly-on-the-wall approach and the role of an active participant in the events taking place in the home, as King orchestrates the shots to echo a welcomed point of view.

97. Point Blank (John Boorman, 1967)

Marvin is the gangster who seeks vengeance on those who double-crossed him and left him to die in a hugely corrupt organisation. This also means getting back the large sum of money stolen from him.

Boorman extensively presents his story by expanding on bleak crime noir stories using a rather experimental visual palette. This results in a strange atmosphere that borrows from numerous genres and film cliches, as audiences see dreamlike flashbacks followed by impulsive violence. Point Blank transcends to a new tonal level by combining surrealism with hard-hitting grit, as a fractured timeline showcases some intense events.

96. The Round-Up (Miklós Jancsó, 1966)

In 1860s Hungary, the government continued to search for any surviving rebels two decades after a failed revolution against the nation’s royal leaders. However, the authorities don’t have the identity of the guerilla leaders, who are supposed to be present among those imprisoned.

The Round Up captures audiences using abstract elements in a suffocating and intense tone. The camerawork consists of magnificent long shots encapsulating the interior conflicts, elevating the story and style. Due to the absence of a central protagonist, Jancsó focuses on central ideas, allowing audiences to gain an omniscient awareness of events.

95. Pale Flower (Masahiro Shinoda, 1964)

Japanese gangster Muraki is released from jail after a few years and finds both organised crime and society have moved on without him. Taking up with his old Yakuza crew, he spends his time in gambling dens, where he meets rich thrill seeker Saeko. When he notices a rogue, drug-addicted young punk hanging around the gambling dens, he realises that Saeko’s insatiable lust for intense pleasures may lead her to self-destruction.

Shinoda’s film is shaped by the noir genre, displaying symbols of wet streets and dark, cold nights, where desperation and helplessness fester. A sleek and pristine use of cinematography contrasts against a seedy and bleak environment, a tactical approach that elevates the film’s artistic nature. Pale Flower is all about this style. With jazzy soundtracks and some allusive performances, it’s atmospheric through and through.

94. Titicut Follies (Frederick Wiseman, 1967)

Filmmaker Frederick Wiseman exposes conditions at a Massachusetts hospital for the criminally insane. In a stark and graphic portrayal, he documents how the guards, social workers and psychiatrists treat the inmates.

Titicut Follies exemplifies the power documentary filmmaking has on audiences, as this film isn’t just art or entertainment. Instead, it shows how images can influence and change the exterior world. Wiseman makes extensive use of the camera, as he points it wholeheartedly at the patients and highlights their experiences. He utilises his techniques to ease audiences into his dizzying exploration of how power is built and maintained at the institution he is recording, situating this backdrop and circumstances to be observed and dissected. In a noble and objective display, the director also anchors the inmates as having their own untouchable agency over narrative events.

He shows the inmates struggling in their environment, thus objectively establishing the relationship between the two. The film is disturbing and unnerving to watch because it’s an honest depiction of this reality.

93. Two Women (Vittorio De Sica, 1960)

During World War II, Cesira escapes from Rome with her daughter. Unfortunately, they are raped by soldiers: this leaves Cesira broken. Michele falls in love with Cesira but finds it hard to reciprocate.

De Sica’s work is emotional exposition at its finest, but this just accentuates the experience of it. As with most anti-war dramas, Two Women is as bleak as it is powerful, featuring an unforgettable performance by Sophia Loren. De Sica is incredibly balanced in his direction and storytelling, an appropriate method given the film’s highly charged subject. He speaks directly to his audience on an intellectual level, using his characters’ dialogue to do so. The mother and daughter relationship is the hook of all emotional investment, with the harsh realities of war feeding a brutal tragedy.

One side of this dynamic is the mother’s fierce and unconditional commitment, and the other is the daughter’s precious innocence, with war testing both sides. Two Women has both heartbreak and spirit, shown in a bittersweet atmosphere.

92. The Great Escape (John Sturges, 1963)

During the Second World War, a large group of imprisoned Allied soldiers, known for breaking out of prison, were confined in an escape-proof prison camp. Undaunted, the prisoners plan one of World War II’s most ambitious escape attempts.

The Great Escape is a beautifully detailed and accurate period war film, presenting an eventful chain of events orchestrated by some colourful characters. Sturges’ film is patient with its narrative and straightforward with its editing. It’s attentive and doesn’t waste a single moment on film, constructing some immersive tension that will have audiences on edge until the conclusion. Its portrayal of the allied forces hit just right as it executes the character and bravery residing.

When observing its stance as a piece of historical filmmaking, it has demonstrated unique staying power over the years and massive universal appeal. The Great Escape is a positive representation of Sturges as a director because it exemplifies his control and class in tone and directing his cast.

91. Signs of Life (Werner Herzog, 1968)

Three recovering German soldiers guard a munitions depot. However, the pressures of isolation begin to take their toll on the men. One of the men finds his sanity compromised and so threatens to blow up the cache.

Werner Herzog’s directorial debut is an immersing compilation of images and sounds that read as both unearthly and unapologetic. As his first film, it’s weighted down by some inconsistent pacing, but he flourishes through some gorgeous cinematography and magnificent writing. It’s a controlled piece of visual storytelling, exploring the complexities and the bizarreness of humans. These include what would later become the director’s trademarks, such as madness, the absurdities of civilisation, and man’s futile conflict with an indifferent universe.

Audiences can also identify his confident direction in the surreal humour, such as images of a chicken being hypnotised and cockroaches being trapped. With a rather harrowing runtime, Signs of Life excels in its landscapes and thematic presentations.

90. The Wild Bunch (Sam Peckinpah, 1969)

A troop of ageing outlaws plot a grand heist before they can retire from the criminal world. They ride into a Texas border town to rob a local railroad office. We see their attempts to adapt to the changing modern world of 1913 and how a former partner causes some casualties.

The Wild Bunch is a revisionist western, meaning it re-examines the romantic elements of the genre and presents something more complex. A key factor is the blurring of lines between the good and the bad. Peckinpah’s film is all about chaos, violence and Western landscapes, with an exploration of corruption tossed in. An action sequence opens and closes the narrative, creating a full cycle that satisfies genre fans yet poses questions about nihilistic violence. Within that violence is the emphasis on loyalty and generational trauma, which adds an intellectual and observant palette to the film’s subtext.

89. Fail Safe (Sidney Lumet, 1964)

Sidney Lumet explores the Cold War and its influence on culture in this seminal thriller. The film is about an electronic malfunction in the American Air force that sends an incorrect message to the pilots, who launch an attack on Russia. The President of the United States has but little time to prevent an atomic catastrophe from occurring.

Fail Safe initially experienced a push and pull between critics and the box office, with the former loving and praising the film, whereas it bombed at the latter. Lumet exemplifies the film’s psychology with some serious style. Its script exemplifies a strain that audiences engage with swiftly, eventually pushing them to the edge of their seats. Its cinematography is all about claustrophobia, visually dissecting and exploring the emotional toll of dire choices and the dread of the consequences they may entail. It’s not just your average war film because it’s about the war for humanity.

88. The Night of Counting the Years (Shadi Abdel Salam, 1969)

The Night of Counting the Years is the only feature-length film directed by the Egyptian director Shadi Abdel Salam. The 1969 picture had been chosen as the Egyptian entry for the Best Foreign Language Film categories at the 43rd iteration of the Academy Awards. While it was not given a nomination, the film remains one of the finest examples of Egyptian cinema and explored the essence of neo-realism. Italian director Roberto Rossellini produced the project, giving his encouragement to Salam.

The movie is based on the story of an Egyptian clan stealing from a trove of mummies in a recently discovered tomb and selling their haul on the black market. The protagonists are two brothers who have recently become heads of the tribe and are shocked to discover the real reason behind their tribe’s affluence. The rest of the film centres on the younger brother’s quest to reconcile the tribe’s history with what he believes is the morally right thing to do.

87. The Servant (Joseph Losey, 1963)

A decadent London aristocrat called Tony hires a man-servant to attend to his needs. However, the balance of power starts to shift, and Tony is soon trapped in an intense psychological war with his former valet. A battle of class and strength follows, with the master and servant relationship being challenged and pulled apart.

The Servant is precise and tight in its composition, exploring the psychological relationships among the four central characters and examining issues relating to social class. It presents a well-executed study of its power dynamics, exemplifying what happens when weakness is detected and exploited. When it comes to visuals, Losey demonstrates some impressive attentiveness, with dark undertones accentuated mainly through the use of lighting and screen composition to complement its thematic values. It immerses audiences into its claustrophobic environment and channels the conflict between its characters to give both emotional and intellectual responses.

86. Z (Costa-Gavras, 1969)

Gavras’ dramatic thriller follows a prominent Greek politician who is murdered during a demonstration. The cause of death is marked as a seemingly innocent and accidental traffic accident. However, a tenacious magistrate is convinced the government and army are trying to suppress the truth and is determined to stop them at all costs.

Z holds some historical status in the film industry, as it is the first film and one of only a few to be nominated for both Best Picture and Best Foreign Language Film by the Academy. Its screenplay and direction complement one another, and both trigger the ideal emotional response given specific plot events. Its thinly-fictionalised account of the assassination of the Greek politician presents some stylised political messaging. An example is a tense portrayal of protests, violence and public responses as elevated through some attentive editing. Gavras has been since cited as a political genius, as well as a filmmaking one.

85. Midnight Cowboy (John Schlesinger, 1969)

In this buddy drama, Texas-born Joe struggles to survive on the streets of New York City. He is soon accompanied by outcast Ratso Rizzo. The unusual pair gradually go on a journey, transitioning from business partners to lifelong friends.

Midnight Cowboy is cited as a gritty and tough piece of filmmaking with a bleak representation of the urban American life of the ’60s. The camerawork and cinematography come together to demonstrate binary opposites of locations. One minute it’s presenting the grime and challenges of New York City, the next, it contrasts it with a more beaming portrayal of Miami. This elevates Midnight Cowboy’s artistic merit as it communicates ideas through its visuals. Another strength of Schlesinger’s film is its impressive displays of acting from its stars Dustin Hoffman and Jon Voight, who earned critical praise for their roles in the film. Furthermore, Midnight Cowboy made history as the only X-rated film to win Best Picture.

84. If…. (Lindsay Anderson, 1968)

Lindsey Anderson’s 1968 satirical drama If…. asked viewers to pick a side. Released at the height of the counterculture era, Malcolm McDowell plays Travis, a teenage rebel who, on returning to his Harrow-esque public School, finds himself unable to respect the sadistic older boys and unable to sympathise with their first-year playthings. When the petty thievery of Travis and his two friends, Johnny and Wallace, attracts the attention of the Whips and the school’s sleepy headmaster, divisions begin to emerge, leading to all-out rebellion.

If…. was the first of Anderson’s Mick Travis trilogy and was followed by 1973’s O Lucky Man! and 1982’s Britannia Hospital. Neither of them ever garnered the same amount of praise as If…., which is frequently cited as one of the most important British films of all time. It successfully captures one of the most tumultuous cultural moments in modern British history, depicting the clash between tradition and youth with wit and candour.

83. Shock Corridor (Samuel Fuller, 1963)

Initially written off as trashy titillation, this 1963 offering is now regarded as one of the most consuming psychological thrillers of the 1960s. Shock Corridor centres on Johnny, a crime reporter who convinces his editor to pass him off as insane so he can access the mental hospital where a man called Sloane has been murdered. Ringing any bell? (ahem, Shutter Island, ahem). To gain access to the ward, Johnny’s stripteasing girlfriend Cathy, a “manic sensualist”, is forced to roleplay as his sister and pretend that he’s been having incestuous thoughts.

After being admitted for sexual therapy, Johnny is introduced to a cast of psychologically warped patients and is thrown into the occasional male fantasy, such as the moment when he finds himself trapped in the ward of “love-maddened women”. It isn’t long before madness comes for Johnny, too. For real, this time. Though many regarded Shock Corridor as proof of Fuller’s crowd-pleasing vulgarity, it saw him transformed into one of America’s most prized auteurs, a true original with a clear vision of what modern cinema could and should be.

82. Les Bonnes Femmes (Claude Chabrol, 1960)

Set in Paris at the turn of the decade, this 1960 offering from Claude Chabrol follows four young women as they spend their days working in a local appliance store and their nights seeking love and romance. One of the most nuanced New Wave films of the 1960s, Les Bonnes Femmes, blends humour with melancholy while successfully dismantling the perceived romanticism of heterosexual relationships.

Happy-go-lucky Jane engages in empty affairs while Ginette spends her evenings performing in a seedy cabaret. Meanwhile, Rita does her best to navigate a relationship with her straight-laced bore of a fiancé and the youngest member of the quartet, Jacqueline, develops an affection for a mysterious motorcyclist. When he invites her for dinner, things take a sinister turn. Les Bonnes Femmes saw Chabrol distinguish himself from his male New Wave contemporaries. Throughout the film, there is a sense that his sympathies, unusually, lie with the women, whereas the men are almost always dull, brutish or insincere. A cinematic gem well ahead of its time.

81. Trans-Europ-Express (Alain Robbe-Grillet, 1966)

Released in 1966, this infinitely cool erotic thriller stars Alain Robbe-Grillet as the director of a screenwriting group aboard the train from Paris to Antwerp. As the director and his team toss around ideas for their latest crime movie, their suggestions are enacted by Jean Louis-Trintignant’s character, Elias, a cocaine smuggler under the spell of a beautiful seductress played by the impossibly beautiful Marie France Pisier. As the manners of continental society give way to private debauchery, we are invited into a serpentine labyrinth where crime, sex and art become increasingly intertwined.

After finding success as a novelist, Robbe-Grillet launched a career as one of France’s most provocative directors, frequently shocking audiences in the process. Trans-Europ-Express, his most successful film after the Golden Lion-winning Last Year at Marienbad, introduced him to Trintignant, who would go on to work with the director on his next four films. Few films manage to be witty, mind-bending and sensual all at once. Trans-Europ-Express accomplishes that balancing act with ease.

80. Cool Hand Luke (Stuart Rosenberg, 1967)

Released in 1967 at a moment of immense political upheaval, Cool Hand Luke stars a mesmerising Paul Newman as Luke Jackson, a petty criminal sentenced to two years of hard labour at a Florida prison. As the only inmate with the courage to stand up to the prison’s sadistic warden, Luke ends up spending a lot of time in solitary confinement. His unceasing optimism and strength of character make him popular with in-house tough guys like Dragline – played by George Kennedy – and he soon becomes a hero to his fellow convicts.

Remarkably, Cool Hand Luke was Stuart Rosenberg’s feature-length debut, marking the dawn of a diverse career that saw the director make everything from romantic comedies like 1969’s The April Fool to action movies such as 1986’s Let’s Get Harry. His greatest works, however, saw him return to those same themes that define Cool Hand Luke: class divisions, crime, and the unbreakable spirit of the American underdog.

79. Valley of The Bees (František Vláčil, 1967)

Based on a script by Vladimír Körner, František Vláčil’s Valley of The Bees is set during the reign of the Teutonic Knight in the 13th century. We follow Ondrej of Vlkov, the son of a Czech nobleman who has been sent off to join the order. The film features what has to be one of the best opening scenes of the decade, in which Ondrej incurs his father’s wrath by presenting his new teenage bride with a basket of flowers concealing a nest of bats.

Vláčil began his career as a military filmmaker, later finding employment at Prague’s Barrandov Studios, where he made his full-length debut with The White Dove in 1960. Valley Of The Bees was one of three historical films the director made during the 1960s, the second of which, Marketa Lazarová, took six years to finish and won the director huge critical acclaim. The re-use of sets and decorations in The Valley of The Bees has led some to assume that the 1967 historical drama was something of an afterthought. However, that would be a grave misinterpretation since The Valley of The Bees is at once poignant, mystical and jaw-dropping in its scale.

78. The Given Word (Anselmo Duarte, 1962)

In 1962, Brazilian filmmaker Anselmo Duarte gained recognition on the international stage with O Pagador de Promessas, which is also widely known as The Given Word. Duarte had been a prolific director for 15 years before the release of his breakthrough production, which finally saw him receive the flowers he deserved and win the Palme d’Or at the 1962 Cannes Film Festival.

A year later, O Pagador de Promessas made history when it became the first South American film nominated for an Academy Award, which enhanced Duarte’s trailblazing reputation further. The film centres around landowner Zé and his terminally ill donkey, his trusted companion, which changes his outlook on the world. As Zé’s mindset transforms, he starts to follow a communist ideology, which makes him the enemy of the Roman Catholic Church. They do everything in their power to prevent him from warping the minds of the locals, which puts Zé in danger.

77. They Shoot Horses, Don’t They? (Sydney Pollack, 1969)

Undoubtedly, the peak of Sydney Pollack’s career was when he was awarded the Oscar for Best Director and Best Picture for his 1985 film, Out Of Africa. However, They Shoot Horses, Don’t They? is perhaps the most underrated project in the iconic oeuvre he left behind.

Based on a novel of the same name written by Horace McCoy, a bouncer who worked at such dance events, the story follows the lives of several contestants as they each vie for success in the gruelling competition. With the facade of an entertaining event, this bleak allegorical film set in depression-era LA saw Jane Fonda lead the mighty ensemble cast to nine Oscar nominations, including Best Director and Best Actress, but it failed to win a nomination for Best Picture.

76. The Innocents (Jack Clayton, 1961)

Jack Clayton announced himself as a director in epic style with Room at the Top in 1959, which was nominated for six Academy Awards, and won two. The British filmmaker was hot property following the success of his directorial debut. However, for his second project, Clayton took a left turn and made a foray into horror with the iconic movie The Innocents, starring Deborah Kerr.

Clayton was the master at adapting works to the screen, with The Innocents originally being a novel by Henry James with Truman Capote tasked with writing the screenplay. Together, Capote and Clayton proved to be a dream team on The Innocents, which proved there was no end to the Brit’s talent.
Unquestionably, The Innocents is one of the all-time definitive horror films thanks to Clayton’s thoughtful storytelling. In the film, Clayton doesn’t try to constantly shock the audience and instead lets the plot unravel slowly, which adds emphasis to the dramatic twist at the end.

75. Judgment at Nuremberg (Stanley Kramer, 1961)

The late Stanley Kramer is a Hollywood legend of the highest order. He rose to prominence in the 1950s with his breakthrough production, The Pride and The Passion, which was followed up with The Defiant Ones. Kramer’s hot streak continued through to the next decade, with 1961’s courtroom drama Judgment at Nuremberg, which cemented his status in the film industry.

In his work, Kramer enjoyed dealing with complex themes with an element of nuance that made his films captivating. In Judgment at Nuremberg, he examines a military tribunal led by Chief Trial Judge Dan Haywood. Four German judges and prosecutors are accused of crimes against humanity for helping the Nazi regime during the despicable Holocaust. When Kramer decided to pick this as the subject matter, the Nuremberg trials were still fresh in the mind of the population, who had recently lived through or fought in World War II.

74. Love at Sea (Guy Gilles, 1965)

Guy Gilles already had a burgeoning reputation in the French film scene before the release of Love At Sea in 1964, which was his sixth production. In the project, Gilles explores the forbidden love between sailor Daniel and Parisian secretary Geneviève.

The pair meet during the summer and quickly fall head over heels in love, but unfortunately, their romance isn’t destined to last forever. The nature of Daniel’s work dragged him away from his lover and stopped them from living their dream life together. The couple continues to communicate through letters, but gradually, they move further apart as their romance slowly fizzles out.

Beautifully, Gilles’ movie was shot over the course of three years, which is the secret to Love At Sea’s brilliance. Due to the clever filming structuring by Gilles, we see Daniel and Geneviève become different people, which was a masterstroke by the forward-thinking late French director.

73. Loves of a Blonde (Miloš Forman, 1965)

When it comes to the Czech New Wave, no one is more important than Miloš Forman. He once explained his philosophy, stating: “One is born, I suppose, with some defective gene. Ever since I was a child, I was fascinated by show business, the theatre. My first experience as a theatre-goer was totally surreal. I was six years old, it was right before World War II, and one Sunday afternoon, my parents took me to the movie house, which was playing a silent version of the most popular Czech opera, The Bartered Bride by Smetana… Everybody in the country knows the first song, and suddenly the whole audience started to sing to this silent movie. It was magic. It was surreal, but it was magic. I was hooked.”

Ever since that moment, he was hellbent on recreating that feeling within his work. Loves Of A Blonde was the late Forman’s second feature film as a director and tells the tale of the young Czechoslovakian woman Andula as she searched for love. Impressively, most of the cast weren’t professional actors, and it was also largely improvised, giving it a documentary feel.

The public perception of Loves Of A Blonde has changed over the decades. Fascinatingly, it was initially derided by critics who didn’t understand Forman’s creation. However, it’s now seen as one of the most important productions of the era.

72. The Cow (Dariush Mehrjui, 1969)

Dariush Mehrjui is a pioneer who put Iranian filmmaking on the international map with his 1969 motion picture, The Cow. It has been rightly anointed as birthing the Iranian New Wave movement and changing the tide of the country’s cinematic scene.

The film is based on Gholam-Hossein Saedi’s play and novel, The Cow, which explores the brutal reality of rural life under the Shah regime. It tells the story of a man named Masht Hasan from a small Iranian village and his cow, which sadly mysteriously dies. However, after its death, the protagonist believes it has continued to live inside of him.

Meanwhile, The Cow has been praised over the years for the way it quietly explores radical Marxist themes. Furthermore, through the character of Hasan, viewers see the real-life impact of state exploitation and the coping mechanisms which were put in place by citizens across Iran.

71. The Structure of Crystal (Krzysztof Zanussi, 1969)

Polish director Krzysztof Zanussi was only 30 when he released his magnum opus, The Structure Of Crystals. It was his debut feature and immediately made Zanussi a name in the Polish film scene after deservedly winning the Mermaid Award at the acclaimed Warsaw Film Festival.

The film is a straight-up drama emphasising the nature of human relationships, which is why The Structure Of Crystals remains such an enticing proposal today. In its heart, the movie taps into universal emotions we all feel through Jan, his wife, Anna, and their friend from university, Professor Kawecki.

The overarching takeaway from The Structure Of Crystals is the complexity of life and the sacrifices we all have to make along the way in adulthood. As Jan discovers, life is a juggling act between aspiration and contentment, but the most important thing in life is the people who surround you.

70. Macario (Roberto Gavaldon, 1960)

Mexican cinema is criminally neglected, but if you’ve ever delved into the niche, you would find it impossible to miss this juggernaut. Macario, released in 1960, marked the jewel in director Roberto Gavaldón’s crown and hence that of Mexican cinema. The late 1950s marked the most crucial years of Gavaldón’s career, with the highly praised Ash Wednesday and Beyond All Limits, released in ‘58 and ‘59, respectively, building momentum towards his masterpiece, Macario, at the turn of the decade.

Based on B. Traven’s novel of the same name, the film is a period drama set in the Viceroyalty of New Spain, the stretch of land we now know as Mexico. The story follows three mysterious deities who visit a peasant called Macario, portrayed by Ignacio López Tarso. The three visitors are God, the Devil and Death; Macario must choose which of the three entities he feeds at his dinner table. The parable struck a chord with critics and audiences alike. As well as entering the 1960 Cannes Film Festival, Macario became the first Mexican film to be nominated for an Academy Award.

69. Easy Rider (Dennis Hopper, 1969)

‘Hollywood hellraiser’ Dennis Hopper made his directorial debut in 1969 with the quintessentially American Easy Rider. The independent road drama set in the American South helped to ignite the New Hollywood movement that flourished in the late 1960s and 1970s. Hopper stars alongside Peter Fonda, who helped write and produce the film, as bikers travelling with the proceeds of a cocaine deal. Easy Rider made a whopping $60 million against a $400,000 budget and recieved two Academy Award nominations.

The themes of Hopper’s landmark movie reflect 1960s counterculture, exploring the social tensions that permeated during the decade. The search for freedom (or the illusion of such) is communicated through the pair’s journey, yet the film is overwhelmingly bleak, acting as a commentary on the breakdown of a once hopeful era. Easy Rider is a perfect time capsule of a distinctive time in America, adorned with images of hippies, bikers and drugs. However, the film transcends this, exploring what it means to be free and how hard life can really be.

68. Seconds (John Frankenheimer, 1966)

In 1966, John Frankenheimer hit the nail on the head in so many ways that Seconds has to be regarded as his salient masterpiece. The film was captured in an artistically stimulating fashion while ensuring a highly accessible pace, which Frankenheimer always seemed to achieve. For this, and the story’s insightful wider implications, Seconds was nominated for the Best Cinematography Award at the Oscars and was a runner-up for the Palme d’Or at Cannes Film Festival.

The tale of psychological horror sees a miserable New York banker contact an agency known as ‘The Company’, which claims to provide “rebirths”, or identity changes, in which patients’ outer appearances are altered by plastic surgery. Crucially, Seconds holds the American Dream up to the light showing its ugliest shortcomings in a poignant story of desperation. It’s not often that a film ticks the boxes for thematic importance, gripping horror and artful cinematography, but not every director can be John Frankenheimer.

67. In the Year of the Pig (Emile de Antonio, 1968)

The 1960s was a time of cultural upheaval, which was documented in the burgeoning creativity of rock musicians over the decade. This iconic hippie movement was, in part, a reaction to the American involvement in the Vietnam war and an angry protest against the outdated establishment that supported it. In 1968, director Emile de Antonio supervened the dialogue with his compelling and eternally relevant documentary, In the Year of the Pig.

Releasing the film during the conflict was a brazen yet essential move as far as de Antonio was concerned. It was less of a commentary and more of an active protest; it naturally and intentionally caused palpable unrest among the US political cabinet at the time. In 1990, esteemed critic Jonathan Rosenbaum deemed In the Year of the Pig as “the first and best of the major documentaries about Vietnam”. The only contender from a modern perspective is perhaps Ken Burns’ 2017 documentary series The Vietnam War.

66. Faces (John Cassavetes, 1968)

In 1968, American actor and filmmaker John Cassavetes, who had already gained global acclaim for his acting roles in Edge of the City and The Dirty Dozen, began his directorial career in earnest with Faces. The year also marked the release of Rosemary’s Baby, which marked the pinnacle of Cassavetes’ acting exploits. The aspiring filmmaker had flexed his directional muscles previously in 1959 with his first independent film, Shadows, but Faces endures as possibly his finest directional effort and marked the beginning of a run of seminal directional productions.

Faces is a visually stimulating picture shot in cinéma vérité-style, telling the uncomfortably personal story of a collapsing marriage between a couple portrayed by John Marley and Lynn Carlin. Cassavetes showed his knack for capturing human emotion in its rawest form, no matter how unsavoury. Faces won two awards at the 29th Venice International Film Festival and received three nominations at the 41st Academy Awards.

65. The Graduate (Mike Nichols, 1967)

Starring Dustin Hoffman and Anne Bancroft, Mike Nichols’ romantic comedy-drama The Graduate is often cited as one of the most significant coming-of-age stories ever put to film. Adapted from Charles Webb’s novel of the same name by Buck Henry and Calder Willingham, the film follows Benjamin, an aimless recent graduate who has returned to his parent’s home. After a family friend, Bancroft’s bewitching Mrs Robinson attempts to seduce Benjamin, the pair begin an affair which will change his life.

The film draws inspiration from the French New Wave, particularly in its editing and cinematography, often using match cuts, contrasting high and low angles, POV shots and close-ups. Not only does the film focus on Benjamin’s existentialism and reluctance to enter the artificial working world, but it also explores Mrs Robinson’s isolation and fear of no longer being seen as an attractive femme-fatale type in her middle age. With five great tracks by Simon and Garfunkel and memorable quotes such as “Mrs Robinson, you’re trying to seduce me. Aren’t you?”, The Graduate is easily one of the best American films ever made.

64. Onibaba (Kaneto Shindô, 1964)

Kaneto Shindô wrote and directed his 1964 masterpiece, Onibaba, in the early 1960s as one of the finest contributions to Japanese cinema across the decade. The film is a standard of the jidaigeki genre which consists of stories often set in Japan’s rich military history. Shindô’s Onibaba is set somewhere near Kyoto during the civil war of the mid-14th century.

In career-defining performances, Nobuko Otowa and Jitsuko Yoshimura play the parts of two women who, caught in the tempest of war, kill two samurai warriors and steal their uniforms and possessions. The plot thickens as a man, portrayed by Kei Satō, comes between the two women and a spar of deceit ensues. The film showcases Shindô’s knack for sensationalising his scenes with suspense and artful camera work. The film received mixed reviews upon its release, but it has stood the test of time and is now revered as one of the essentials of the decade.

63. Belle De Jour (Luis Buñuel, 1967)

Released in 1967, Luis Buñuel’s masterpiece Belle De Jour features one of French icon Catherine Deneuve’s finest performances. The film follows her character Séverine, a young housewife who cannot have sex with her husband. With a mind full of fantasies, including bondage and sadomasochism, Séverine sets out to satisfy her desires by becoming a high-class prostitute during mid-week afternoons.

Belle De Jour is one of the greatest pieces of erotic cinema ever made precisely because it understands that eroticism is more than just images of naked skin. In fact, explicit sex scenes never occur. Instead, the film revels in allusion and possibility, and Séverine’s desires are entirely about herself. Scenes play out of Séverine’s fantasies, such as being tied up and covered in mud, making the film unforgettable. Belle De Jour has a finely crafted visual aesthetic, and Séverine’s demure Yves Saint Laurent-designed outfits help to contrast her secret life of scandal.

62. The Cremator (Juraj Herz, 1969)

Czechoslovak filmmaker Juraj Herz undoubtedly hit a career-high with his horrifying dark comedy, The Cremator, in 1969. The defining product of the so-called Czechoslovak New Wave movement of the 1960s, The Cremator was written by Herz alongside Ladislav Fuks, the author of the novel on which the screenplay is based.

The story is set in 1930s Prague and follows the life of cremator Karel Kopfrkingl, who curiously loses touch with his life as a law-abiding citizen as his creepy job becomes much creepier. A well-meaning cremator of the dearly departed eventually becomes a mass murderer responsible for the death of his family. He proposes to helm the ovens at concentration camps under the influence of the Nazi party, and thanks to his warped Buddhist beliefs, he believes his murders are “liberating” the souls of his victims to a better afterlife.

The Cremator won the Festival de Cine de Sitges Best Film award in 1972, where it also scooped up awards for its star Rudolf Hrušínský and cinematographer Stanislav Milota.

61. Nothing But a Man (Michael Roemer, 1964)

German-American legend Michael Roemer isn’t the most prolific of filmmakers, but what he did create over his impactful career has finally received its due reverence. With a scattering of shorts and documentaries, including 1962’s Cortile Cascino, behind him, he began work on Nothing but a Man in the early 1960s. The independent drama starred Ivan Dixon and Abbey Lincoln and was directed by Roemer, with Robert M. Young taking co-writing credits.

Nothing but a Man, set in its time, tells the unfortunate tale of Duff Anderson, a Black railroad worker who struggles to uphold his public image in a small town inhabited by racists near Birmingham, Alabama. Tension continues to build after Anderson marries a local preacher’s daughter. As he grapples with discrimination from the locals, he must also face up to his own father, an alcoholic who abandoned him as a child.

While the film wasn’t a huge success in the US following its release, it received glowing reviews at the New York Film Festival and won a coveted prize at the Venice Film Festival. Thankfully, Nothing but a Man finally gained the attention it deserves upon its re-release in 1993.

60. The Leopard (Luchino Visconti, 1963)

The 1960s was a great decade for Italian cinema, not least because of revered director Luchino Visconti. While Hollywood was busy filming Clint Eastwood’s famous spaghetti westerns in rural Italy, Visconti was offering his talents to this compelling adaption of Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa’s novel The Leopard, which was originally published in 1958.

Visconti’s The Leopard stars Burt Lancaster as Don Fabrizio Corbera, an ageing Sicilian nobleman thrown into the proverbial deep end with the Risorgimento (otherwise known as the Unification of Italy) knocking on his door during the mid-19th century. French actor Alain Delon co-stars as Corbera’s nephew Tancredi, and Claudia Cardinale as his goddaughter.

The film was an international effort, with both Italian studio Titanus and French studio Pathé taking production credits. It won the Palme d’Or at the 1963 Cannes Film Festival with rave appraisal from audiences and critics alike.

59. Gertrud (Carl Theodor Dreyer, 1964)

Based on the eponymous play by Hjalmar Söderberg, Gertrud is a remarkable cinematic achievement, but it is mostly remembered for one reason – this was the final addition to Dreyer’s magnificent filmography. Probably the apotheosis of Dreyer’s meditative cinematic style, Gertrud is an all-consuming cinematic journey into the life of the titular opera singer.

After marrying an eminent lawyer and politician, Gertrud discovers that her husband is much more interested in his career, which is why she embarks on an affair with a young pianist. Presented through Dreyer’s unique long takes, Gertrud serves as the perfect end to the Danish pioneer’s oeuvre. At the time of its release, the film was met with a mixed reception, but its reputation has only grown in stature since then.

58. Yearning (Mikio Naruse, 1964)

Mikio Naruse will always be remembered as one of the most influential Japanese auteurs of the 20th century. The prolific filmmaker made 89 films throughout his career, but Yearning remains one of his finest creations, focusing on the trials and tribulations of a war widow who rebuilds her late husband’s grocery shop after it is bombed in the war.

Like Naruse’s other works, Yearning contextualises the primary dramatic thread within a larger framework of sweeping social and political changes that affected Japanese society. The film examines some of the most important issues during the postwar period, ranging from predatory economic practices to the emotional distress and trauma of the survivors of the unimaginable devastation.

57. I Am Cuba (Mikhail Kalatozov, 1964)

A dizzying cinematic experience directed by Mikhail Kalatozov, I Am Cuba is one of those misunderstood and forgotten artefacts which eventually reclaim recognition. Structured as an anthology which traces Cuba’s history from the horrors of colonial rule to the overwhelming revolution that changed its political landscape forever, Kalatazov’s work was dismissed by critics and audiences when it first came out.

However, over time, many prominent figures in the industry – including the great Martin Scorsese – advocated for the restoration of I Am Cuba. Thanks to their efforts, Kalatozov’s magnum opus is available to wider audiences. Featuring the unapologetically original cinematography of Sergey Urusevsky, I Am Cuba is an essential watch for all aspiring filmmakers.

56. Paris Belongs to Us (Jacques Rivette, 1961)

Jacques Rivette was an integral part of the New Wave in France, which took the world by storm. While he made several masterpieces over the course of his illustrious career, this was the film that kicked it off. Written during the late ‘50s, Paris Belongs to Us did not announce Rivette’s presence to global audiences, but retrospective analyses of the film have categorised it as one of his essential works.

The film follows the journey of a young and innocent literature student named Anne, who enters the chaotic world of a group of bohemians. Their existence is severely marked by love, lust, death, fear and everything else that is at the centre of the human condition. An unforgettable exploration of Paris, Rivette surpassed his directorial debut in his later works, but Paris Belongs to Us perfectly captures the spirit of the New Wave.

55. Pigs and Battleships (Shōhei Imamura, 1961)

The Japanese New Wave was an incredibly important movement within the wider framework of global cinema, playing a pivotal role in raising awareness about Asian filmmaking. Pigs and Battleships provides a unique intersection between the West and the East, focusing on the involvement of American troops in the years following the end of the Second World War.

Based on the novel by Kazu Otsuka, Pigs and Battleships examines the mutually exploitative relationship that exists between the US military and the lower rungs of Japanese society. An irreverent look at postwar, occupied Japan, Imamura challenges the conventions of cinema of his time while questioning the idea of national identity.

54. The Sound of Music (Robert Wise, 1965)

Probably among the most recognisable entries on this list, there are very few musicals that are more widely beloved than Robert Wise’s 1965 work The Sound of Music. Filled with one iconic scene after another, the film revolves around a postulant who completely transforms the lives of seven children after she becomes their governess.

An unprecedented critical and commercial success, The Sound of Music has become a gold standard for the countless musicals that have followed in its footsteps. For many, Wise’s musical will always be an indispensable part of their childhoods, replacing life’s monotony with the elegance of music and magic.

53. Death by Hanging (Nagisa Ōshima, 1968)

Japanese auteur Nagisa Ōshima is revered by cinephiles for many reasons, ranging from his transgressive cinematic vision to his innovative techniques. This 1968 gem, Death by Hanging, is a definitive cinematic masterpiece about the subject of capital punishment. It tells the story of a Korean prisoner who poses an unsolvable dilemma after he survives an attempted execution.

Although Ōshima’s most popular work is probably the 1976 film In the Realm of the Senses, Death by Hanging is the film that undoubtedly deserves to be on this list for its radical translation of Brechtian techniques to the cinematic medium. The film questions grand philosophical problems like ethics, justice and consciousness while indulging in political commentary about the persecution of ethnic Koreans in Japan.

52. The Executioner (Luis García Berlanga, 1963)

A unique gem from the pantheon of unforgettable Spanish cinema, The Executioner is a fantastic black comedy by the pioneering Luis García Berlanga. The film is a thoroughly incisive critique of Francoist Spain, following the life of an undertaker who marries an executioner’s daughter and finds himself in a tough spot.

In order to preserve their apartment allotted by the government, the undertaker is forced to take over the position of his wife’s father. Berlanga is unflinching in his examination of the Franco era’s social atmosphere and its uncomfortable relationship with human mortality. Doused in irony and trenchant social commentary, The Executioner should always be regarded as one of the most important comedies of the 20th century.

51. Diamonds of the Night (Jan Němec, 1964)

Němec’s brilliant feature film debut, Diamonds of the Night, is partially inspired by Arnošt Lustig’s autobiographical novel Darkness Has No Shadow. It portrays the intense and heartbreaking story of two young Jewish boys trying to escape the Nazis. The film is remembered for its philosophical investigation of the human condition as well as its ambiguous ending, declining to reveal whether the boys live or die.

Following Diamonds of the Night, Němec became a key figure of the Czech New Wave which redefined cinematic sensibilities in Europe during the ‘60s. While talking about his influences, Němec later revealed that he was only interested in filmmakers who elevated the cinematic medium to the next level. That’s why he was deeply influenced by other pioneers such as Alain Resnais, Robert Bresson and Federico Fellini, among others.

50. What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? (Robert Aldrich, 1962)

Undoubtedly among the greatest horror films of the ’60s, What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? is a seminal masterpiece by the great Robert Aldrich. Starring two of the biggest Hollywood stars of all time, Joan Crawford and Bette Davis, Aldrich’s dark psychological thriller uncovers uncomfortable truths about the recesses of the human psyche.

Set in a decadent mansion, the film constructs a disturbing tale of sibling rivalry, which follows a former child actress who tortures her paraplegic sister. Due to the real-life rivalry between Davis and Crawford, the unsettling conflicts in What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? had solid foundations. The film’s association with sensational Hollywood drama ensured its success while contributing to the psycho-biddy subgenre’s growth.

49. Kwaidan (Masaki Kobayashi, 1964)

Kwaidan explores four Japanese folk tales with supernatural themes. The YouTube age offers up the perfect premise: “Stories and studies of the strange.” Now there’s a search that many of us often enter when we’re in need of something charmingly outside the norm. That is all Kwaidan looks to offer. It does it with absolute artistry but never gets too highfalutin to complicate its own appeal.

“Her eyes. That terrifying woman’s eyes made her look so incredibly beautiful, like something not of this world,” is just one example of the prose that turns the vignettes into gripping little stories. There is a traditional campfire feel to these ancient tales that tap into something primordial. Each instalment slides your backside closer to the edge of your seat and seems to contain within it some sort of message – a wisdom passed down from afar and here to titillate as well as inform. After all, what good is musing about the afterlife if you’re not having fun in the here and now?

48. Chimes at Midnight (Orson Welles, 1965)

“I think his father loves him not and would be glad he met with some mischance. I would have him poisoned with a pot of ale,” declares Henry Percy. This sort of mirthful tongue-in-cheek line sums up the farcical film. It is, in short, a mad movie. Perhaps this is why it is often touted as Orson Welles’ personal favourite. It thrives on theatricality, taking Shakespearean to an almost parody-like pinnacle.

Growing up is not something that stops at puberty. As we get older, we constantly look back at how our youth and the changes that have befallen us in increments thereafter. From one day to the next, your thinking changes, and this film stews over that point. It might be hidden under a frantic surface, but there is a surfeit of philosophical symbolism lingering under all the purposefully pompous comedy. And, to put it simply, Orson Welles is Orson Welles – there is never a dull moment.

47. Kes (Ken Loach, 1969)

Kes has transcended British culture as a whole. From being parodied by Vic & Bob to Karl Pilkington overdubbing the dialogue, this look at northern life redefined our notion of a ‘classic’. The antithesis of cinematic, this one boy and a bird tale grounds itself to realism and magic comes from the exultant emotion that it unlocks throughout. Now, it rightly holds its place in society as a document of cultural history.

Resplendent with iconic lines that skip along the playground of your imagination as soon as you hear the word Kes, Barry Hines’ novel couldn’t have wished for a more faithful adaptation. And then there’s Loach; his understanding of the material he was dealing with is second to none. This delicately handled story is as natural as cinema ever gets. Kes has never stopped appealing to the masses since it first hit screens in 1969.

45. Last Year at Marienbad (Alain Resnais, 1961)

Cinema is a funny old beast – script writers can sweat over a plot for the best part of a lifetime, directors can pull their hair out over shots, and actors can be driven mad. After all, just one shot sticks in the audience’s mind. Alain Resnais and his art department have a happy knack for this. This mystic tale is a quintessential feast for the eyes, oozing artistry throughout.

It is the simplicity of the plot that allows for this expressionist work alongside it. A man in an isolated chateau becomes convinced he has met a female visitor once before – it’s as simple as it gets. However, there is a relatability to the ‘where have I seen them before’ torture that ensues. Naturally, it’s more cinematic than checking the cast list on Google, but even when things get bombastic, there is still the touchstone of empathy.

44. Il Posto (Ermanno Olmi, 1961)

Il Posto is one of the highlights of the Italian neorealist genre. Directed by Ermanno Olmi, the man who would go on to direct 1988’s celebrated title La Leggenda del Santo Bevitore (The Legend of the Holy Drinker), this is his first major work, and it cemented him as one of the most exciting filmmakers of his generation.

The movie follows the young Domenico, who leaves the latter stages of his education when his family enters a dire financial state. He applies for work at a major corporation in the city and is sent through a strange set of exams, tests and interviews. During his break from his trials, he meets Antonietta, a girl who was also forced to leave school and provide for herself and her mother. After meeting, they go for coffee and discuss their lives. However, they are separated after securing jobs in different departments. Complete with a rather bleak ending, with the themes more prescient than they’ve ever been.

43. La Jetée (Chris Marker, 1962)

French filmmaker and multimedia artist, Chris Marker, delivered many stellar moments over his career, but none are as thought-provoking as the 1962 featurette La Jetée. Closely associated with the Left Bank movement when released, it was unlike anything else on the fringes of art, with it constructed almost entirely from still photographs. 28 minutes in length and completely black and white, it fused art with a genuinely profound message and made such an impact that Terry Gilliam’s 1995 opus, 12 Monkeys, borrowed heavily from it.

Narrated by Jean Négroni, it is set in a post-apocalyptic Paris after World War III and tells the story of ‘The Man’, played by Davos Hanich, a prisoner held by survivors who are living underground in the Palais de Chaillot. At the same time, scientists are researching time travel, hoping to send subjects to different times to rescue the present. However, their experiments struggle as all subjects resist the mental implications of time travel.

42. Theorem (Pier Paolo Pasolini, 1968)

Late Italian auteur Pier Paolo Pasolini is revered as one of the greatest to ever do it. His life away from the set is as storied as they come, with his murder in 1975 the source of much intrigue. An avowed Marxist, many of his films carried the themes of this political thought, with none as striking as 1968’s Teorema, or as it is known in the English-speaking world, Theorem.

Starring Terence Stamp, Laura Betti, Silvana Mangano, Massimo Girotti and Anne Wiazemsky, it was Pasolini’s sixth film. Interestingly, it was the first time he worked primarily with professional thespians. This talented cast enacted an overarching theme of the spiritual iniquity of the bourgeoisie conveyed by the talents of the cast. Stamp, in particular, delivers his ultimate performances, playing a mysterious figure known as ‘The Visitor’. He creates a void in the film that leaves the ensemble questioning the configuration of their bourgeois life, with severe effect.

41. Tokyo Drifter (Seijun Suzuki, 1966)

Not to be confused with an instalment in a certain fast-driving franchise, the thrills and spills in this gangster flick are far more frenzied. Focusing on a yakuza enforcer who simply can’t escape his past, this film was certainly ahead of its time, and part of the joy of watching it in retrospect is seeing how truly influential it has become.

Tokyo Drifter is the sort of movie that makes filmmaking look easy. Its plot is perfectly poised to bring in thrilling violence, the pace-change of romance, the depth of philosophy and the open goal for gripping entertainment and unforgettable lines like: “A drifter needs no woman.” It might not be the finest Japanese gangster film of all time, but it’s a 90-minute ride that never disappoints. There’s nothing worse than when a story doesn’t do what it’s supposed to; thankfully, this epic ticks every box.

40. Walking the Streets of Moscow (Georgiy Daneliya, 1963)

The brilliance of cinema is that it often challenges our way of thinking. Walking the Streets of Moscow does that in myriad wonderful ways, but perhaps the most simple is merely offering up the refreshing image of Moscow bursting into spring. That sense of seasonal celebration infects everything that the film explores. Brimming with the joy of youth, this bouncy film offers up love without any cynicism.

With a fantastically romantic soundtrack and highly refreshing cinematography, this film has a truly satisfying surface. However, if you want to wade through it, you can find nuggets of male eroticism, questions that probe at idealism, and the pointed edge of what we do with our freedom. Thus, it can be enjoyed as a sunny old rom-com, or it can be viewed as a concise journey into the rationale of whether youth’s blissful ignorance is all that ignorant after all.

39. My Night at Maud’s (Éric Rohmer, 1969)

Sex changed the world in the 1960s. But this far from a smutty revolution sequestered to thrusting hip, they played their part, but it was far more intellectual and edgy than that. The highs and lows of the changing international libido are mused upon brilliantly in My Night at Maud’s (sadly, you don’t get great film titles like that anymore).

Importantly, the philosophy of the film doesn’t simply wash over you as highfalutin chat with little entertainment value. In amongst all the pontificating is an undertow that can’t help but drag you into the discussion. However, the masterstroke is that it never once settles into a set narrative and the twists, turns, and moral potholes constantly recalibrate your thinking throughout the film. All the while, a brilliant display by Françoise Fabian offers up the fitting thrills.

38. Memories of Underdevelopment (Tomás Gutiérrez Alea, 1968)

We’re calling our current times a permacrisis, but when you look back at the wars, assassinations, social problems and every other madness of the 1960s, it’s easy to see how the brilliance of art has given us a false reflection of the past. This is a motif that Memories of Underdevelopment really sinks its teeth into and rags it about like a dog with a bone.

This was the first Cuban film to be released in the US after the revolution, and it washed onto screens like a finger had been removed from the dam. The political discourse unspools at a dizzying speed, as does the life of its subjects. You could easily get lost in it all if it wasn’t for the fantastic grounding performance of Sergio Corrieri. He ensures that the film is a truly humanised account of a monumental moment in history. It revels in the tragedy of geography but offers up the balm of connections in an exposé of modern living that is far further reaching than Cuba alone.

37. The Fire Within (Louis Malle, 1963)

French cinema was a dominant force in the 1960s. It just seemed to seize the liberated and artistic zeitgeist and beautifully depict it. However, with The Fire Within, Louis Malle beautifully subverts the notion of forthcoming frenzy and wallows in the wavering will of a man who finds himself firmly outside of the party. Brooding tones embalm the whole slice-of-life feature with an atmosphere that proves transformative – wherever you watch it when the morose score begins, the room changes.

Based on Pierre Drieu La Rochelle’s novel, the film has its own intoxicating prose that proves paradoxically sobering. While others partied, this subtly gripping story skewers the dark side of society that the flower power movement tried to subsume, but ultimately, it was the other way around. Drugs and depression were rife, and this sombre tale has a sense of prescience.

36. Dragon Inn (King Hu, 1967)

Wuxia is a genre of fiction of Chinese origin that focuses on the journeys of martial arts heroes, predominantly in Ancient Chinese civilisation. The word comes from the elements wu (meaning martial) and xia (meaning vigilante or hero). One of the finest examples of wuxia within cinema came in 1967 with King Hu’s Dragon Inn. Hu had left his film studio, Shaw Brothers, in order to move to Taiwan and work with Sha Rongfeng. It was in Taiwan that he shot Dragon Inn.

In terms of the narrative of the film, it focuses on the children of General Yu, who has recently been defeated in battle by Tsao, the emperor’s first eunuch. Yu’s children are consequently exiled from China, and Tsao devises a plan to have them killed. However, when Tsao’s men turn up at the Dragon Inn to ambush the children, one of Yu’s lieutenants, a martial arts expert, shows up to defend them. Two remakes of the film have since been made, one in 1992 and another in 2011.

35. Jules and Jim (François Truffaut, 1962)

Francois Truffaut based his romantic drama Jules and Jim on a 1953 Henri-Pierre Roche novel in which he details his relationship with fellow writer Franz Hessel and his wife, Helen Grund. Jules and Jim creates a similar love triangle between the French vagabond Jim, his Austrian friend Jules and Jules’ girlfriend-come-wife Catherine. The film scooped the highly-coveted French film prize, the Étoile de Cristal, and Jeanne Moreau won Best Actress for her role as Catherine.

Interestingly, Truffaut had stumbled across Roche’s novel at some point in the mid-1950s when he was looking for second-hand books on the Seine in Paris. Roche published his first novel at the age of 74, and Truffaut eventually got to meet the writer and gain his approval for adapting his novel for the screen. As with much of the French New Wave, Jules and Jim is effortless in its style, although it is approached in an unassuming, almost natural manner.

34. Daisies (Věra Chytilová, 1966)

Daisies is widely regarded as the pinnacle feature of the Czechoslovakian New Wave movement in cinema. Věra Chytilová’s fifth film centres on two young girls who both go by the name of Marie (played by Jitka Cerhová and Ivana Karbanová) who spend the film devising and carrying out a series of absurd pranks. The film had initially been set up as a satire of the bourgeoisie and is therefore critical of a society obsessed with manners and rules.

In the 1960s, the role of women in film had primarily been either love interests, damsels in distress, or both. Through Daisies, Chytilová reimagines the role of cinematic women, empowering them and turning them into heroines. In this light, Daisies is an essential piece of cinema, and so too is it vital in the fight against authority, communism and a patriarchal outlook on life that had dominated the decade. The film was so powerful that it was actually banned from cinemas by the Czechoslovak Socialist Republic.

33. The Battle of Algiers (Gillo Pontecorvo, 1966)

Gillo Pontecorvo earned himself Best Director and Best Picture Academy Award nominations and took home the Venice Film Festival Golden Lion prize with his landmark docudrama The Battle of Algiers. The 1966 Italian-Algerian film is widely considered a masterpiece, using a neorealistic style to portray the Algerian resistance during the Algerian War. Discussing the importance of his film, Pontecorvo described it as a “hymn … in homage to the people who must struggle for their independence, not only in Algeria but everywhere in the third world. The birth of a nation happens with pain on both sides, although one side has cause and the other not.” To convey the events of the Algerian resistance against the French government with authenticity, the director used black-and-white newsreel-style editing to give the movie a documentary feel.

Inspired by Roberto Rossellini, The Battle of Algiers was shot on location and used many non-professional actors who had lived through the real battle that took place a decade prior. Pontecorvo’s film has been a tremendous source of inspiration for countless filmmakers, such as Ken Loach, Stanley Kubrick, Christopher Nolan and Werner Herzog.

32. A Hard Day’s Night (Richard Lester, 1964)

Richard Lester encapsulated the height of Beatlemania in his 1964 film A Hard Day’s Night. According to the BFI: “If any single director can encapsulate the popular image of Britain in the Swinging Sixties, then it is probably Richard Lester.” No film of his does this better than A Hard Day’s Night, which features The Beatles as, albeit slightly fictionalised, versions of themselves. The film is jam-packed with cinematic gags and easy laughs, yet the charm of the Fab Four never tires. As they prepare to perform live on television at the height of their fame, the Liverpool band evade hoards of fans, sneak out to party, and temporarily lose Ringo Starr, who is apprehended by police, all whilst trying to chaperone Paul’s grandfather, played by Wilfrid Brambell.

A Hard Day’s Night, which contains plenty of hits from the Beatles’ 1964 album of the same name, such as ‘Can’t Buy Me Love’, ‘And I Love Her’, and ‘All My Loving’, is cited as one of the most influential musical films. It has been credited as leading “directly to all the kaleidoscopic swinging London spy thrillers and comedies of the later ’60s”. Furthermore, the film helped to shape what we know as the modern music video by editing images in time with the beat of the music.

31. Closely Watched Trains (Jiří Menzel, 1966)

An integral part of the Czechoslovakian New Wave, Closely Watched Trains, directed by Jiří Menzel, was released in 1966, based on the novel by Bohumil Hrabal. The film is the coming-of-age tale of a young man, Miloš, working at a train station during the German occupation of Czechoslovakia. After struggling to make love to his girlfriend, he contemplates suicide. However, after he survives the attempt, the film follows Miloš in his attempt to ‘become a man’. The director almost took on the leading role himself before ultimately deciding that he was too old. Instead, the starring role went to pop singer Václav Neckář, who plays the innocent Miloš excellently. The film is brilliantly human, funny, charming and warm, focusing on small details that a Hollywood production would be quick to gloss over.

Discussing the film, Menzel shared: “The true poetry of this movie, if it has any, lies not in the absurd situations themselves, but in their juxtaposition with obscenity and tragedy.” Closely Watched Trains took home the Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film in 1968, proving its enduring popularity outside of its native country. The movie was noted for its mix of humour and seriousness – Menzel does not shy away from including the war in his film and contrasts witty episodes between the characters with urgent passing trains, which represent something a lot greater.

30. Eros + Massacre (Yoshishige Yoshida, 1969)

Yoshishige Yoshida’s subversive black-and-white film, Eros + Massacre, blends past, present and future in its depiction of anarchist Ōsugi Sakae. By using radical formal and stylistic methods, the director reflects the content of the film whilst disorientating viewers and challenging normative modes of filmmaking. Scenes set in the 1920s are slower, dialogue-heavy and incorporate elements of kabuki theatre, whereas moments from the 1960s feature a psychedelic rock soundtrack and free-from visuals. Characters from both periods often cross boundaries of time, which Yoshida described as “bring[ing] Osugi back into the contemporary period. […] This is one way in which I challenge history.”

Talking to Cahiers du cinema, Yoshida said: “The fundamental theme is: how to change the world, and what is it that needs to be changed? Reflecting on the present situation through the medium of an era already past, I came to believe that Osugi’s problems continue to be ours. Osugi is very well known in Japan – one could say almost legendary: he is someone who spoke of free love. He was assassinated in 1923 by an official of the state, massacred by the power of the state. This is what all Japanese historians believe, but this historical estimation only enlightens the past and not the future. In making this film, I wanted to transform the legend of Osugi by means of the imaginary.”

29. Blow-Up (Michelangelo Antonioni,

David Hemmings stars as a sleazy fashion photographer who believes he has captured a murder on film in Michael Antonioni’s first entirely English-language picture, Blow-Up. The film won the Palme d’Or at Cannes Film Festival and served as a great source of inspiration for films such as Francis Ford Coppola’s The Conversation and Brian De Palma’s Blow-Out. Antonioni’s film, set amongst London’s mod subculture, feels like a time capsule of the Swinging Sixties. During the film, Hemmings’ character Thomas watches The Yardbirds perform, and other ’60s icons such as Jane Birkin and Gillian Hills make appearances.

An intoxicating jazz score by Herbie Hancock plays as Thomas becomes increasingly consumed by the mysterious images he has captured on celluloid or engages in various sexual romps with different women. Blow-Up is brilliant because of its rich exploration of the human relationship between reality and perception and the uncertainty that prevails in everyday life. Under the Hays Code, the film was not appropriate to show in North American cinemas. However, MGM released the movie under a subsidiary distributor, Premier Productions, and it became a box-office success, grossing $20 million worldwide. According to Richard Corliss, Blow-Up “helped liberate Hollywood from its puritanical prurience.”

28. The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance (John Ford, 1962)

Described as “the greatest American political movie,” The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance is one of John Ford’s most well-respected and accomplished works. The western was adapted from a 1953 short story written by Dorothy M. Johnson and stars frequent collaborator John Wayne alongside Vera Miles, James Stewart, Lee Marvin, and Edmond O’Brien. The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance was filmed in black-and-white on a soundstage, in contrast to Ford’s previous westerns, such as The Searchers and She Wore A Yellow Ribbon. The director once argued, “You might say I’m old fashioned, but black and white is real photography,” also claiming that the climatic shootout scene would only work in monochrome.

Despite appearing later in Ford’s career, the film demonstrates that he was still a stellar storyteller and filmmaker, even if the demand for black-and-white westerns was declining by this point. The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance serves up a slice of emotionally-investing melodrama that has majorly influenced other directors, such as Sergio Leone, who declared the film his favourite of Ford’s. The film was one of the highest-grossing features of 1962, garnering over $8 million, and it also became one of the only films from the genre to be nominated for a Best Costume Design Academy Award.

27. Night of the Living Dead (George A. Romero, 1968)

George A. Romero’s Night of the Living Dead is seen as one of the original social commentary horrors, a genre trend that is prevalent in most releases today. The film focuses on how a radiation leak results in the undead rising from their graves to antagonise and feast upon the living.

Night of the Living Dead is not only a classic horror that triggered a massive franchise, but it also reads as a thorough examination of American social issues such as race relations and gun violence. The film made history by being the first horror to have a Black hero portrayed with positive attributes. It also hits its ideal tone effortlessly, as the images of the undead ominously approaching the living and eventually eating their organs are terrifying. The black-and-white documentary style elevates the fear by eliminating any fictionalised feel and communicating realism.

This exemplifies pragmatic aesthetics and elevates Romero as a film auteur. It also shows that a low budget doesn’t get to negotiate a film’s success, as Night of the Living Dead is seen as a trailblazer in the horror genre. It doesn’t hold back on being disturbing through its imagery of cannibalism, breaking any safety net of comfortability.

26. Peeping Tom (Michael Powell, 1960)

Michael Powell’s Peeping Tom is one of the earliest drafts of the now iconic slasher trope. It follows Mark, a psychologically ill filmmaker, who murders women and records their dying moments.

When looking at how frequent slashers are now and the ongoing praise Hitchcock earned through Psycho, it’s odd to think that audiences were so disturbed by this film that it essentially ruined Powell’s career. It has seen a reappraisal and is now hailed as a masterpiece, exploring the psychology of a serial killer and representing chilling perspectives of voyeurism. It’s a film that is as uncomfortable as it is compelling to watch, as a sociopath is dissected so intimately under our very eyes. The element of filming people’s last moments served as a commentary on spectatorship and its boundaries, if it even has any. The fear derives from this idea of watching such a significant event in someone’s life, which causes the audience to reflect on their own position as a viewer, being able to observe such powerful moments so easily.

This macabre take on voyeurism will succeed in unnerving audiences, showing the power of effective tonal filmmaking. Peeping Tom is pure classic shock value and is possibly one of the most innovative takes on the slasher.

25. The Hole (Jacques Becker, 1960)

After reading about the 1947 La Santé Prison escape attempt in a newspaper, French director Jacques Becker became interested in adapting the story onto the big screen. Luckily, he discovered that José Giovanni had fictionalised the same story into a novel, The Break, which led Becker to collaborate with the writer on a screenplay for his spellbinding film The Hole. The director employed three of the real-life attempted escapees as technical consultants on the film, with one of them, Roland Barbat, starring under the stage name Jean Keraudy as Roland Darbant. He also stars as himself, opening the film by telling audiences that we are about to see his true story.

Hailed as “the last great flowering of French classicism,” the film was noted for its superb performances by non-actors. The Hole was Becker’s last film – he died a few months later – but his final production was undoubtedly one of his most impressive. Bearing slight influence of the burgeoning French New Wave, the film is a lot less commercially viable than Becker’s previous efforts. Instead, The Hole is unflinchingly honest and uncompromising, making it one of the greatest prison break movies of all time. It is dark, visceral, and uncomfortable – yet the gritty realism is everything needed to convey the power of the human spirit.

24. Bonnie and Clyde (Arthur Penn, 1967)

Bonnie and Clyde is a landmark piece of cinema, widely considered one of the first New Hollywood films. Based on the true story of criminal couple Clyde Barrow and Bonnie Parker, Arthur Penn’s film featured Warren Beatty and Faye Dunaway in the starring roles, who both give electrifying performances. In contrast with popular Hollywood movies of the period, Bonnie and Clyde is brutal and unforgiving. The end scene, where the murderous couple finally gets a taste of their own medicine by being shot with countless bullets, has been described as “one of the bloodiest death scenes in cinematic history”.

The graphic depiction of violence and sex was groundbreaking at the time and significantly influenced films such as The Godfather, The Wild Bunch, True Romance and Natural Born Killers. Despite some critics condemning the apparent glorification of murder and brutality, Bonnie and Clyde earned ten Academy Award nominations, with Estelle Parsons winning Best Supporting Actress for her performance as Clyde’s disapproving sister-in-law Blanche. The genre-blending film marked Hollywood’s transition from old into new, setting the tone for a new wave of filmmakers such as Francis Ford Coppola, Martin Scorsese, and Peter Bogdanovich.

23. Eyes Without a Face (Georges Franju, 1960)

This French drama-horror invites us to the life of a plastic surgeon who is determined to perform a face transplant on his daughter, who was disfigured in a car accident. The lengths he goes to are terrifying and rather tragic.

The film’s disturbing narrative caused initial negative reviews, with critics being disgusted and unsettled. However, it has been re-assessed to the point of gaining a legacy and having influential merit. Its story has been cited as poetic yet haunting and is described as a beautifully tragic fairytale. Eyes Without a Face showcases the ugly residing in obsession and guilt, shifting its horror classification to something of value and insight rather than just being a scary film. It’s symbolically charged with real and artificial images of eyes and faces, used to convey its themes and mirror the uncanny to provoke resettlement.

Its tone is a morbid gothic tale with some gruesome grizzly imagery, making it a viewing that stands out during and after the initial viewing. Franju orchestrates a tapestry of emotions and contradictions, as one tonal state is never allowed to reside for too long before a juxtaposing one interrupts. As a fine surreal fantasy, Eyes Without A Face stands as completely unique and mesmerising.

22. Rosemary’s Baby (Roman Polanski, 1968)

This psychological horror follows a young wife in New York who comes to suspect that her elderly neighbours are members of a Satanic cult and are grooming her in order to use her baby for their rituals. Rosemary’s Baby is based on Ira Levin’s novel of the same name.

Due to its presentation of women’s liberation, psychological abuse, and the occult as combined with its quality direction and writing, Rosemary’s Baby is regarded as a masterpiece in horror filmmaking. It took the genre to new levels by presenting its potential intellect and demonstrates how the 1960s and ’70s relied on tone and suspense to generate emotional reactions. It exists as a piece of genre filmmaking that clearly respects and elevates its genre. However, you don’t just have to be a horror fan to appreciate it. Polanski tells a menacing, haunting, bleak story and completely submerges his audience into the paranoia that ties it all together. It is both harrowing and hyper in style and atmosphere, with some engaging camerawork and magnetic performances.

Audiences are never allowed to decide on one reality for too long, as soon a completely different one throws out everything previously established. The ending comes out like a tightrope being cut, sending the entire film into a descent of madness and chaos that defies comfortably and familiarity.

21. The Umbrellas of Cherbourg (Jacques Demy, 1964)

The 1960s were a time of great progress for the beloved movie musical. Jacques Demy’s The Umbrellas of Cherbourg stood out in a decade that included Robert Wise’s The Sound of Music and the iconic West Side Story, with music from Stephen Sondheim. However, Demy’s film was different, elevating the genre beyond the somewhat stiff theatrical adaptation into something far more frenetic and vibrant.

Nominated for several Academy Awards, including Best Foreign Film, Best Song, Best Soundtrack, and Best Original Screenplay, Demy’s classic follows a young woman who faces a life-altering decision, also won three prizes at the 1964 Cannes Film Festival, including the Palme d’Or. Beloved by international audiences for its exciting cinematography and continuous music score.

Still regarded as one of the greatest movie musicals of all time, the film, starring Catherine Deneuve, Nino Castelnuovo and Anne Vernon, is a favourite of the modern innovator Damien Chazelle, using it as a key text to inform 2016s La La Land. As a result, to revisit The Umbrellas of Cherbourg is to watch a film that bears more resemblance to the modern musical than the contemporary pieces of its time, considerably elevating the genre.

20. Black Girl (Ousmane Sembène, 1966)

As we highlighted in the introduction, world cinema expanded into every corner of the globe in the 1960s as Hollywood woke up to the influence of different perspectives, voices and opinions. The Senegalese filmmaker Ousmane Sembène was just one of many directors who emerged during this time, grabbing critical attention for his 1966 movie Black Girl, which told the story of a young girl’s travels to France to become a servant.

Though it gained critical attention upon its release, it wasn’t until the 21st century that Black Girl would be celebrated for its powerful statements that address the effects of colonialism and racism in Africa and Europe. Whilst in the modern world, these themes are regularly explored with critical depth and analysis, back in the 1960s, such themes were still tender and did not receive as much attention. The effect of colonial oppression on a young Senegalese female was, and remains, a powerful area of exploration for Sembène, elevating the voices of the persecuted.

Now part of the Criterion Collection, the film is finally valued as the piece of art it truly is, with several critics praising its humanism during its 50th-anniversary celebration in 2016.

19. Lawrence of Arabia (David Lean, 1962)

In David Lean’s war drama, a lieutenant called Lawrence is asked by Colonel Brighton to moderately assess Faisal, their ally. After finding himself impressed with Faisal, the British Army lieutenant employs him to help plan an attack.

This epic historical drama film is based on the life of T. E. Lawrence and his 1926 book Seven Pillars of Wisdom. Peter O’Toole’s performance as Lawrence is a window into themes of emotional struggles with violence and a fractured alignment with old and new loyalties. The film was nominated for ten Oscars at the 35th Academy Awards in 1963, winning seven, including Best Director and Best Picture. Cited as one of the greatest films ever made, Lawrence of Arabia is a masterclass in visuals, screenplay and character performances. It balances between beautiful and intelligent in material and presentation, reading as a splendid use of the widescreen visual as an exterior, as only complemented by a taunt attentive script in the interior.

There’s plenty of time to take this combination in and appreciate it, as Lawrence of Arabia comes under an extensive runtime of nearly three hours. However, every moment on screen is worth it, as the film stands timeless as some magnificent filmmaking.

18. The Face of Another (Hiroshi Teshigahara, 1966)

Hiroshi Teshigahara blends sci-fi with drama in The Face of Another. This film is about a burns victim who begins developing a dark personality after procuring a mask that covers his burns. Meanwhile, a young woman with a scar-ridden cheek tries to deal with neglect and insult.

The Face of Another is a primitive contribution to the Japanese New Wave, a film movement categorised by its presentation of ‘taboo’ subject matter. This translates to the film through a display of sexual violence and other delinquent behaviours. Teshigahara utilises the camera as a vehicle to communicate themes rather than just images. We see a pattern of repetition, shown in the doubling of shots and by placing the main character in nearly identical shots twice. This works to elevate the story material and captivate audiences’ engagement with the film as a whole. With some potent acting and insightful propositions, The Face of Another provides a visceral and reflective experience.

Once the film has ended, audiences are left in a self-referencing state, asking questions about what is construed as identity and a grounded sense of self. Thus, Teshigahara’s film is as critical as it is emotional; a harmony of intellect and sentiment. Philosophy marries art to create something as bleak as it is emblematic.

17. PlayTime (Jacques Tati, 1967)

Jacques Tati not only wrote and directed PlayTime but starred in it too, reprising his role as Monsieur Hulot, a popular character he previously played in his films Les Vacances de Monsieur Hulot and Mon Oncle. The film is impressive for its huge set that Tati built specifically for the film, known as ‘Tativille’. The set required 100 workers to assemble it alongside its own powerplant. This naturally contributed to the film’s large budget, which was around 17 million francs ($3.4 million). After many financial and practical setbacks, PlayTime was finished after three years of production.

PlayTime uses Tati’s unique humour to create a bizarre yet highly entertaining comedy. Set in a futuristic and hyper-consumerist Paris, the film is divided into six sequences, united by two characters who continuously bump into each other. One is, of course, Monsieur Hulot, a Frenchman struggling to adapt to modernity, and the other is Barbara, an American tourist.

Tati largely employed non-professional actors to play the members of the public with whom the pair interacted, believing that this would make them appear more realistic. The film uses many interesting techniques, such as prioritising the use of sound effects and straying away from close-ups, which Tati found detestable.

16. Army of Shadows (Jean-Pierre Melville, 1969)

Jean-Pierre Melville created one of his greatest works, Army of Shadows, in 1969, a French-Italian production starring Lino Ventura, Simone Signoret, Paul Meurisse, and Jean-Pierre Cassel. Adapted from the book of the same name by Joseph Kessel, the film follows a small group of Resistance fighters during World War II as they try to avoid capture and execution. Army of Shadows is a bleak tale that was recieved poorly upon its release – in the wake of the May 1968 events because critics believed the film to be too praising of Charles De Gaulle. The film was not released in the US for another 40 years, long after Melville’s death, when it was eventually received with plenty of praise.

Although the film takes place during the war, it is not a war film per se. Melville doesn’t focus on action-packed battles and explosions but on the minds of soldiers reckoning with the impending deaths of themselves and their friends. In comparison to the brightly colourful French New Wave films popular at the time of Army of Shadows’ release, Melville creates a desolate yet intoxicating landscape, closer in similarity to 1940s and ‘50s black-and-white films that the director was inspired by, despite being shot in colour. The film is beautifully composed and constructed, remaining one of the most enduring pictures from the era.

15. An Autumn Afternoon (Yasujirō Ozu, 1962)

Yasujirō Ozu’s cinematic examinations of modernity and the evolution of Japanese families are cited by scholars and cinephiles as some of the greatest dramatic works of all time. Known for his singular visual style and his remarkably consistent cinematic vision, Ozu’s filmography is an essential educational tool for all aspiring artists who dream of making their own films someday.

An Autumn Afternoon was the last film Ozu ever made, acting as a devastatingly powerful ending to the career of a bonafide visionary. Like Late Spring, An Autumn Afternoon tells the story of a widower who is taken care of by his 24-year-old daughter. Although she is content with performing her duties for her father, he wants her to get married as soon as possible. Although some have dismissed the film as a remake of Late Spring, An Autumn Afternoon poignantly captures how much Japan has changed since Ozu’s 1949 masterpiece.

14. Funeral Parade of Roses (Toshio Matsumoto, 1969)

Film genius Toshio Matsumoto’s experimental art piece is inspired by the Odeuius Complex and Tokoyo’s underground queer and trans community. It tells a love story between a young trans woman and the owner of the club she works at, with another co-worker interfering. The film also has a subplot of students making a film that interrupts the overarching romance.

Funeral Parade of Roses is a progressive piece of visual storytelling through its characterisation and film techniques.

It pushes the boundaries of film’s physicality using repetition of shots, graphic novel-style text on the screen and showing a film within a film where audiences cannot tell which level is which. Matsumoto has essentially created and presented a film kaleidoscope, celebrating everything film can do and experimenting with these stylised techniques. This film is essentially an appreciation for filmmaking and visual storytelling, as it activates audiences’ senses and engagement through its presentation.

In order to process the story events, audiences have to give all their concentration and ability to compromise. However, it is more than worth it in the end. Funeral Parade of Roses is as transgressive as it is honouring when it comes to film. There also resides the claim Matsumoto’s film inspired Kubrick’s A Clockwork Orange.

13. The Cloud-Capped Star (Ritwik Ghatak, 1960)

Ritwik Ghatak was undoubtedly among the most influential figures during the golden period of Indian cinema. Known for his experimental sensibilities and innovative cinematic techniques, Ghatak’s oeuvre inspired subsequent pioneers such as Mani Kaul. While he is responsible for making several masterpieces, the film that continues to garner the most attention is his 1960 feature, The Cloud-Capped Star.

Throughout his filmography, Ghatak explored his preoccupation with the historical trauma associated with the Partition. In The Cloud-Capped Star, we follow the journey of a young girl who tries her best to keep her family afloat, but the people around her take her for granted. A deeply moving cinematic experience, Ghatak chronicles the undeniable anguish of the oppressed in a completely unique way.

12. The Colour of Pomegranates (Sergei Parajanov, 1969)

A niche 1969 Soviet Armenian art film written and directed by Sergei Parajanov, The Colour of Pomegranates is a poetic masterpiece and a landmark of European cinema. Whilst it may be one of the least commercial movies on our exclusive list of 100 movies, there’s no doubt that Parajanov’s movie would have a significant impact on the remainder of 20th-century cinema, inspiring the likes of Soviet cinematographer Mikhail Vartanov and French filmmaker Jean-Luc Godard.

A spiralling, poetic treatment of the life of 18th-century Armenian poet and troubadour Sayat-Nova, The Colour of Pomegranates is an experimental piece of cinema that explores the individual through non-narrative amalgamations and strange vignettes. Inspired by “the Armenian illuminated miniature,” as stated by the filmmaker, it was his self-confessed intention to “create that inner dynamic that comes from inside the picture, the forms and the dramaturgy of colour”.

With little dialogue, the film uses several tableaux such as Childhood, Youth, Prince’s Court and Old Age to tell its surreal tale. Where American cinema was trying to redefine itself by new standards, Parajanov’s film demonstrates the willingness of European cinema to experiment and innovate the cinematic form to reach new heights of artistic success.

11. The Good, the Bad and the Ugly (Sergio Leone, 1966)

For many decades, the American western genre was pioneered by national filmmakers like John Ford, Sam Peckinpah and Howard Hawks, releasing such respective classics as The Searchers, Rio Bravo and The Wild Bunch, but Italian filmmaker Sergio Leone would change the genre in the 1960s. Bringing a brand new European flair to the stuffy genre, Leone’s The Good, the Bad and the Ugly became an instant classic.

Inspired by icons of world cinema, including the Japanese filmmaker Akira Kurosawa, Leone worked with the musical maestro Ennio Morricone to create a movie that was inextricably tied to the identity of the American West whilst oozing a new innovative elegance that would bring the genre into a new era. Telling the story of two scammers who create a tense alliance whilst racing to find a fortune of gold buried in a deserted cemetery against a third hunter, the film stars Clint Eastwood, Eli Wallach and Lee Van Cleef.

Whilst much of the film is masterfully crafted, telling a slow and considered story that teems with themes of loyalty, betrayal and desolation in the wild west, many fans remember it for its influential final duel sequence. The moment features some incredible visual storytelling from Leone and his crew, with the whole scene stitched together with Morricone’s palpable soundtrack.

10. Week-end (Jean-Luc Godard, 1967)

As we’ve previously discussed, the French filmmaker Jean-Luc Godard dominated European cinema in the 1960s like a frenetic spinning top, making several classic movies within the boundaries of the decade. His final ‘60s masterpiece was the 1967 movie Week-end, starring Mireille Darc, Jean Yanne and Jean-Pierre Kalfon, which followed a Parisian couple who leave on a weekend trip across the French countryside to collect an inheritance, only to witness the greed and over-consumption of the bourgeois.

With revolutionary cinematic techniques and a politically charged subtext, the colourful movie was fiercely revolutionary, innovative and deliberately self-referential. As such, the film has been attributed to inspiring the later films in the celebrated James Bond series and was seen to be spiritually influenced by the surreal work of Disney’s Alice in Wonderland. As a multi-faceted piece of flourishing cinema, Jean-Luc Godard attempted to strike several chords of filmmaking, and he achieved hitting each one.

Comparable to a personal piece of expressive art, Week-end is one of Godard’s many masterpieces, working to perfectly reflect the freedom of creativity that thrived in the 1960s. Furthermore, the film, which would appropriately come to an end with a title sequence that read ‘End of Cinema’, marked a definitive end in Godard’s industry reign from 1960-1967, creating such classics as Contempt, Bande à Part and Alphaville.

To this very day, even after his death, the late Godard remains a pertinent influence on French cinema, having instilled an unrivalled sense of unbridled vibrancy.

9. Psycho (Alfred Hitchcock, 1960)

Alfred Hitchcock’s game-changing thriller Psycho is the mother of all slashers. After a woman called Marion (Janet Leigh) disappears, a private investigator and Marion’s lover attempt to locate her at the hotel she allegedly checked into. There, they meet Norman Bates (Anthony Perkins), a hotel worker who hides a dark and terrifying secret.

Psycho is the most famous film from one of cinema’s most famous filmmakers. It is cited as one of the greatest films ever made thanks to its slick direction, tense atmosphere, impressive camerawork, memorable score and iconic performances. When it comes to Psycho, all of the little things come together perfectly to create an overall thrilling experience, such as a perfectly placed score over some inventive camera movement during a kill scene. This perfect execution aligns together in Hitchcock’s favour, as he impresses audiences with a poised and graceful balance between style and content. This is due to the fact that not only is Psycho a well-shot and scored horror film with outstanding performances, but it also holds a thorough and intelligent character study under a psychological scope.

It grabs all your attention the moment it opens and refuses to let it go or even rest until the dramatic conclusion. Furthermore, its opening shower sequence and closing shot of Bates are some of the horror genre’s greatest images.

8. Cleo from 5 to 7 (Agnés Varda, 1962)

A young singer anxiously awaits the news of confirming whether or not she has cancer in this French New Wave feminist art film. It features cameos from French film legends such as Jean Luc Godard and Anna Karina.

Agnes Varda is regarded as one of art film’s greatest, and Cleo from 5 to 7 exemplifies that status. The film makes satisfying and effective use of symbolism to exposit themes, such as mirrors, to represent how women are perceived or self-obsession and clocks to channel existentialism. The character of Cleo presents debates about morality and the meaning of life, so you get some philosophy alongside the art. Varda clearly favours the camera over the actual story in this film. However, this is no shortcoming, as the film’s visuals are beautifully crafted. We see a transgression from vibrant colour to stylised black-and-white photography after the establishing introduction, showcasing how everything onscreen plays a part in Cleo’s story.

Thus, Cleo from 5 to 7 can be watched as a piece of visual art, proving that imagery and fluid movement can reveal just as much insight as dialogue and other uses of story exposition. Her film, using both story and visuals, documents the intellectual and emotional journey from ignorance to enlightenment.

7. Andrei Rublev (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1966)

Often exploring ponderous themes of spiritualism and existentialism, Tarkovsky uses dreamlike, ethereal imagery to meditate on nature, memory and human existence.

Such is apparent even in his earliest movies, with Tarkovsky arriving with aplomb in the 1960s with Ivan’s Childhood in 1962 and the masterpiece Andrei Rublev in 1966. A biographical drama, Tarkovsky’s film explores the life and times of the 16th-century Russian iconographer St. Andrei Rublev. Starring Anatoliy Solonitsyn as the titular character, Tarkovsky delivers a remarkable monochrome study into the life of a complicated icon.

As well as a biography of the painter, the film is also an accurate breakdown of life in medieval Russia, capturing the majesty of Rublev as well as the fundamental importance of Christianity as a piece of national identity. Discussing the themes of free speech, religion, political ambiguity and the restriction of a repressive regime, it’s no wonder Tarkovsky’s classic was not released domestically in the Soviet Union, with a censored release only being shown to the public in 1971.

The Russian filmmaker would go on to become a pivotal piece of 20th-century cinema, releasing such classics as Solaris, Stalker and The Sacrifice. Still, Tarkovsky’s second feature film, Andrei Rublev, remains one of his very best.

6. Charulata (Satyajit Ray, 1964)

In truth, we could have included around seven movies from the Indian mastermind Satyajit Ray on our list of the best 100 movies of the 1960s, but we’ve opted for Charulata over the likes of The Expedition, The Hero and The Big City. Based on the 1901 novella Nastanirh (The Broken Nest) by Bengali author Rabindranath Tagore, the movie follows Charulata (Madhavi Mukherjee), the lonely wife of a newspaper editor who falls in love with her visiting cousin-in-law, who shares her love for literature.

Once calling Charulata his favourite of all his movies, Ray injects a passionate sense of vivid urgency into his 1964 masterpiece, crafting an intense romance that rivals any Hollywood offering. Set in 1880 and shot in gorgeous monochrome, the film traces a beautiful drama of repressed desire, with many considering it to be one of the most vehement movies ever made.

Whilst there’s much to enjoy throughout the whole movie, it is the film’s first and last scenes that have become the most iconic, with the dialogue-less introduction perfectly setting up the meditative movie to come. Fast-forward to the last scene, and Ray treats us to one of the most famous freeze-frames in cinema history, with Charu and her husband about to embrace before Ray decides to end the sequence.

An all-time favourite of not only Ray but also of the French innovator Jean-Luc Godard, Charulata was bizarrely snubbed from the Cannes Film Festival, with the likes of David Lean and Ingmar Bergman each coming out in protest of the film’s omission. Still, despite this, it received praise at the Berlin Film Festival and has gained a significant amount of appreciation in the ranks of contemporary cinema.

5. Winter Light (Ingmar Bergman, 1963)

In the great pantheon of European filmmakers, the Swedish director Ingmar Bergman deserves to be considered among the very best, standing shoulder to shoulder with the likes of Jean-Luc Godard, Mike Leigh, François Truffaut and Federico Fellini. Just like these filmmakers, Bergman enjoyed a flourishing decade in the 1960s, directing several classics, including The Virgin Spring, Through a Glass Darkly, The Silence and Hour of the Wolf.

Though it was no easy decision, we’ve opted for the 1963 movie Winter Light as his best movie of the decade, with the 1963 drama telling the story of Tomas Ericsson (Gunnar Björnstrand), a pastor of a small rural Swedish church and his struggles to deal with an existential crisis about his Christianity. The second in a thematically-related trilogy that explores the influence of religion in the inner workings of a man’s mind, Bergman’s unofficial trio of films also includes the aforementioned movies Through a Glass Darkly and The Silence.

What results is a meditative masterpiece, carried off with a classy aplomb that only Bergman seems capable of, picking apart the meaning of spirituality in the normality of a humble life. As the filmmaker stated in Ingmar Bergman: A Reference Guide: “These three films deal with reduction. Through a Glass Darkly – conquered certainty. Winter Light – penetrated certainty. The Silence – God’s silence – the negative imprint. Therefore, they constitute a trilogy”.

Perfectly summing up the grace, consideration and cinematic mastery of Bergman, Winter Light is one of the filmmaker’s most accomplished works, challenging the remainder of his filmography to significantly up its game.

4. Au Hasard Balthazar (Robert Bresson, 1966)

Speaking of iconic European filmmakers, the French mastermind Robert Bresson was as important in the rise of the national new wave as Jean-Luc Godard, François Truffaut and Agnès Varda. Creating a number of classic French movies throughout the decade, Bresson worked from a traditional foundation and provided a quality foothold for such aforementioned names to flourish into excellence.

Whilst we’ve opted for Au Hasard Balthazar as his best of the decade, one could quite easily make a case for his 1962 film The Trial of Joan of Arc, or 1967’s Mouchette, with the director being quite the influential name during the time. Often considered one of the greatest ever movies period, Bresson’s Au Hasard Balthazar was inspired by a passage from Fyodor Dostoyevsky’s 1868–69 novel The Idiot and follows a donkey as he is given to various owners.

Reserved and restrained, Bresson’s film is an act of personal expression that leaves a profound emotional effect on the viewer. Whilst inspired by Dostoyevsky’s tale, Bresson also took creative licence from the story of the seven deadly sins, with each section meant to represent a different sin whilst also intersecting to make one magnificent whole. As a result, the film has long been praised for its magnificent religious imagery, spiritual subtext and naturalistic style.

Bresson would go on to become one of the most influential filmmakers of the 20th century, creating such classics as Four Nights of a Dreamer, Lancelot du Lac and The Devil, Probably in the 1970s. Due to such films, and the eternal allure of Au Hasard Balthazar, Bresson remains a magnetic figure of cinematic influence.

3. High and Low (Akira Kurosawa, 1963)

Our list has been long and expansive, speaking of filmmakers from all across the globe, from Senegal to Sweden, but for our top three, we’ve stuck to a trio of iconic figures, with the first being Japan’s Akira Kurosawa. Indeed, forget the 1960s, Kurosawa is one of the most influential filmmakers of all time, having a direct impact on the direction of Hollywood moviemaking in the latter stages of the 20th century, manipulating the future of the western genre, hailing in George Lucas’ Star Wars franchise in the process.

Thriving long before the dawn of the ’60s, Kurosawa had released the likes of Rashomon, Ikiru and Seven Samurai in the decade prior, gaining great popularity as a result of each release. Success continued the decade to follow, however, with the samurai flicks Yojimbo and Sanjuro joining our pick for the filmmaker’s best movie of the decade, the 1963 crime drama, High and Low.

Often compared to William Shakespeare’s Macbeth, High and Low is a police procedural crime film loosely based on the 1959 novel King’s Ransom by Ed McBain, following an executive of a Yokohama shoe company who becomes a victim of extortion when his chauffeur’s son is kidnapped by mistake and held for ransom. A tense thriller, as well as a gripping drama, Kurosawa’s brief departure from the world of samurai was well worth it.

Foregrounding the modern infrastructure of the economic miracle years prior to the 1964 Tokyo Olympic games, the film is an important artistic and historical document that speaks to the ambition and vibrancy of Japanese cinema throughout the 1960s. Respected across the globe, Kurosawa’s 1963 film is considered by American maestro Martin Scorsese as one of the 39 essential foreign films.

2. 8 ½ (Federico Fellini, 1963)

This surrealist drama (with a liberal sprinkling of comedy) directed by acclaimed Italian filmmaker Federico Fellini follows filmmaker Guido Anselmi (Marcello Mastroianni) in his struggles with creative stasis as he attempts to get a new movie off the ground.

8 ½ received the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film and Best Costume Design and ranks in countless film lists as one of the greatest movies ever made, with the majority of its praise going to its exploration of the artist’s struggle, with an undeniable influence on filmmaking. Blending intellectualist ideals with surrealist imagery whilst breaking conventions by showing a film being made in a film, 8 ½ makes reality and fiction indistinguishable, exploring how film can be distinguished as both entertainment and art. It breaks boundaries by showing both mayhem and heart at its core.

There may need to be a number of viewings to fully process the material presented. However, each one will bring something different to its audience. 8 ½ is a layered, complicated story, yet, those traits bring an exhilarating and thriving element to the film. Fellini tells a story that is as inventive as it is entertaining whilst developing a challenging form of visual storytelling.

Merging the world of dreams and surrealism together, Fellini creates a masterpiece that is today appreciated as one of the most iconic movies of world cinema, influencing the likes of Martin Scorsese, Christopher Nolan, Denis Villeneuve and many more. Whilst the whole movie is a special cinematic package, it is in the detail of Fellini’s film where the true magic can be found, treating cinephiles to a delectable medley of innovative splendour.

1. 2001: A Space Odyssey (Stanley Kubrick, 1968)

Film master Stanley Kubrick’s epic science fiction classic is adapted from Arthur C. Clarke’s writing and tells the story of a spacecraft being sent to find mysterious artefacts’ origins. This spacecraft is manned by two men and a sinister AI named HAL 9000.

2001: A Space Odyssey is iconic for its innovation in visuals and special effects. Kubrick was praised for his scientifically accurate depiction of space flight and for avoiding conventional cinematic and narrative techniques. The film not only explores space but the world of filmmaking as a whole. Furthermore, it experiments with storytelling, with music being the central source of the sound, with limited dialogue expositing the story. It also utilises a seemingly simple plot by immersing it in mysteries and never-ending questions, provoking some insightful conversations about its interior ideas and exterior ones about the power of film. Critics also praised Kubrick’s work for its intellectual exploration of themes such as human evolution, technology, artificial intelligence, and the possibility of extraterrestrial life. It also utilises a seemingly simple plot by immersing it in mysteries and never-ending questions.

As a film, it presents its concepts both effectively and beautifully, communicating all values and elements in some profound photography and sequences. 2001: A Space Odyssey is respected for understanding its genre and filmmaking as a whole, celebrating everything both can mean while still progressing their value. Its cited as an untouchable accomplishment in its medium, paying close attention to every detail and taking all the time needed to complete an intelligent piece of filmmaking.

Indeed, whilst the 1960s was an experimental time for filmmaking for more reasons than one, there’s something about Kubrick’s iconic piece of cinema that remains impenetrable, like a puzzle box that morphs and evolves consistently, changing as your own worldview adapts. As one of the most influential filmmakers of all time, Kubrick’s most iconic masterwork has to take our top spot, with science fiction directors of the contemporary world still trying to better its greatness.

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