The 100 best movies of the 1970s
By the 1970s, Hollywood had left the archaic studio system behind in pursuit of something new and innovative, inspired in part by the growth of ‘free love’ that was emanating through contemporary culture. With the death of Hollywood’s stiff past, the industry gave way to a swathe of burgeoning young filmmakers looking to shake up the image of popular cinema, embracing a relaxation on restrictions of adult content, sexuality and violence.
As such, the decade became a creative cauldron of artistic expression, where filmmakers such as Francis Ford Coppola, George Lucas, Paul Schrader and Steven Spielberg changed the industry with movies that blurred the lines between arthouse and commercial cinema. Donned the ‘Movie Brats’, these directors were the products of film schools that gave them an essential history of contemporary world cinema, bringing new ideas, styles and cinematic visions.
Inspired by the ‘New Wave’ movements of French cinema seen in the films of Jean-Luc Godard, François Truffaut and Agnès Varda in the decade prior, Hollywood prompted a new movement of its own defined by new storytelling techniques and idiosyncratic cinematic expressions. Swirling in this storm of change was the rise of the civil rights movement, hippie subcultures, rock and roll and national optimism, particularly following the end of the Vietnam War in 1975.
In the very same year that the contentious war came to a close, Steven Spielberg redefined Hollywood cinema with the release of the first commercial blockbuster, Jaws. Providing the building blocks on which contemporary cinema would flourish, Spielberg’s shark thriller forced punters to queue on the streets of any given theatre (hence the term ‘blockbuster’), making forward-thinking studios reconsider the structure and material of their own upcoming movies.
The emergence of such movies helped to quell industry fears of the rise of television, with cable networks providing a very real threat to studios upon their emergence in the early 1970s. So-called ‘blockbusters’ gave people a reason to visit their local cinema, especially when these modern movies were created with cutting-edge technology, like George Lucas’ seminal science fiction classic Star Wars, released in 1977.
Meanwhile, other savvy studios saw that provocative thrillers could be made on a tight budget, with filmmakers like John Carpenter helping to foster an appreciation for independent cinema. His third feature film, the 1978 horror flick Halloween, became the highest-grossing independent film in US history, sparking an obsession with masked slasher killers that spilt over and obsessed the youths of the subsequent decade.
Hollywood wasn’t the only place where cinema was thriving either; across the world, movies were becoming more daring, more experimental and more narratively ambitious. In Japan, the animation industry was beginning to take shape, with Eiichi Yamamoto creating the spellbinding Belladonna of Sadness, a beautiful and complex hand-drawn animation that would prove to be a pioneer of adult animations in the following 20th century.
Elsewhere, Djibril Diop Mambéty put African cinema on the map with the exploration of post-independence Senegal in Touki Bouki, a deeply moving film that delves into the history of the continent whilst toying with an ambiguous narrative. Russian filmmaker Andrei Tarkovsky also challenged the spectacular nature of Hollywood cinema with a number of ambitious projects of his own, releasing science fiction epics that interweaved personal tales of tragedy with existential plots that questioned one’s own existence.
More innovations were happening on Hollywood’s doorstep, too, with female filmmakers gaining critical acclaim and commercial traction for a number of memorable releases. Belgian writer and director Chantal Akerman released multiple successful movies throughout the decade, with her efforts reaching a creative pinnacle with Jeanne Dielman, 23 quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles in 1975, a feminist masterpiece that has gained increasing admiration in contemporary cinema.
Similarly, the filmmaker and documentarian Barbara Kopple won an Oscar in 1977 for her extraordinary study into the stark differences between local communities and national corporations in Harlan County USA, whilst the French new wave icon Agnès Varda continued her impressive work, and the Soviet filmmaker Larisa Shepitko reached the culmination of her artistry with 1977s The Ascent.
Enjoy our list of the 100 films that made the cut of the very best movies of the 1970s below, where the likes of Ingmar Bergman, Andrei Tarkovsky, Miloš Forman, Agnés Varda, Martin Scorsese and Francis Ford Coppola are celebrated in all their glory.
The 100 best movies of the 1970s:
100. Salo (Pier Palo Pasolini, 1975)
Opening our list of the 100 greatest films of the 1970s is Pier Paolo Pasolini‘s 1975 film Salo. It is a loose horror film adaptation of the Marquis de Sade’s novel The 120 Days of Sodom and focuses on four wealthy Italian libertines who kidnap 18 teenagers and sexually and psychologically torture them.
While the film is one of the most brutal and disturbing of all time, it is deserving of its place on this list because it explores the themes of corruption, authority, morality, sexuality and nihilism. Pasolini elevates the barbarity of humankind into high art with references to Nietzsche, Ezra Pound and Marcel Proust.
99. Deep End (Jerzy Skolimowski, 1970)
Deep End is Jerzy Skolimowski’s 1970 romantic drama film starring Jane Asher and John Moulder-Brown. The film takes place in London and makes the relationship between two young co-workers at a bathhouse and swimming pool the centre of its focus. Brown plays the 15-year-old dropout Mike who is trained by Asher’s Susan, a woman ten years his senior.
The film is widely acclaimed, even by legendary director David Lynch, who admitted in 1982 that it was one of the few colour films that he actually admires. “I don’t like colour movies, and I can hardly think about colour,” he said. “It really cheapens things for me, and there’s never been a colour movie I’ve freaked out over except one, this thing called Deep End, which had really great art direction.”
98. Monty Python’s Life of Brian (Terry Jones, 1979)
One of Monty Python’s most beloved works is Life of Brian, the 1979 feature film directed by Terry Jones. The comic brilliance of the troupe was put to excellent use in the movie that tells of young Brian Cohen, a clumsy Jewish-Roman man born on the same day as (and just next door to) Jesus Christ. From that coincidence, the proto-Christians mistakenly believe that Brian is the Messiah rather than his son-of-God neighbour.
George Harrison, a close friend of the Pythons, was partially responsible for funding the film through his HandMade Films production company. Given the blasphemous nature of the plot, Life of Brian drew widespread criticism, especially from religious groups, so much so that it was actually banned in some cinemas in the United Kingdom.
97. Punishment Park (Peter Watkins, 1971)
In 1971, Peter Watkins released his pseudo-documentary drama Punishment Park, which focused on a British and West German film crew creating a production about the National Guard soldiers and police while they relentlessly chance a counterculture organisation across the desert during the escalation of the Vietnam War.
The film’s brilliance comes from the fact that it creates an alternate history whilst being filmed in the cinema verité style, using hand-held cameras. By employing a number of amateur actors and telling them to improvise their dialogue and actions, Watkins managed to heighten the level of believability in the film and made it one of the best efforts in the genre.
96. A Swedish Love Story (Roy Andersson, 1970)
Roy Andersson’s 1970 romantic drama is certainly one of the best efforts in the genre released in the 1970s. Andersson had been inspired by the Czechoslovak New Wave movement when he set about making his feature film debut, which starred Ann-Sofie Kylin and Rolf Sohlman as two teenagers destined to fall in love.
Prior to making the film, Andersson had just graduated from film school, having made two short films and a more extended 48-minute feature during his time there, which makes A Swedish Love Story’s excellence all the more impressive. The film was entered into the Best Foreign Language Film category at the 1971 Academy Awards but was not accepted as a nominee.
95. The Illumination (Krzysztof Zanussi, 1973)
Krzysztof Zanussi has a background in academia; he studied physics at Warsaw University and philosophy at Jagiellonian University in Krakow. As well as studying extensively, the Polish filmmaker is also a professor of European film at the European Graduate School in Saas-Fee, Switzerland. In light of his background, his third feature film, The Illumination, makes a lot more sense.
The 1973 film sees a young man from the Polish country move to Warsaw to study physics but is faced with more profound human questions about the meaning of life. His one-time devout belief in rationality and science is shaken by the tremors of his heart. Much of Zanussi’s biography is present in the film and features an appearance from the Polish philosopher Władysław Tatarkiewicz.
94. Hausu (Nobuhiko Obayashi, 1977)
Nobuhiko Obayashi’s 1977 experimental comedy horror film tells of a young schoolgirl travelling to her sick auntie’s house in the Japanese countryside with her six friends. When they arrive, they face up to several supernatural events that seem to originate from the house itself.
The brilliance of Hausu comes from the fact that it mostly stars amateur actors. Obayashi has been tasked with making a film like Jaws but ran into difficulties getting the project off the ground. However, he was insistent about the film, and eventually, Toho Studios allowed him to direct it himself when no one else came forward. Thankfully, we were treated to one of the best cult films of the decade.
93. Suspiria (Dario Argento, 1977)
The original Suspiria is one of the most celebrated horror films of all time, let alone of the 1970s. Dario Argento wrote the screenplay in collaboration with Daria Nicolodi, based on an 1845 essay by Thomas De Quincy entitled Suspiria de Profundis. The film focuses on an American ballet student who transfers to a dance school in Germany but discovers that it is run by a coven of witches who undertake a series of conspiratorial murders in the school.
Argento’s film is accompanied by a beautiful score by the prog-rock outfit Goblin and lends the feature a truly harrowing weight. In 2018, Luca Guadagnino released a remake of the film, equally excellent, starring Tilda Swinton and Dakota Johnson with a Thom Yorke score, but it would be nothing without Argento’s brilliant original.
92. Deliverance (John Boorman, 1972)
John Boorman’s Deliverance is one of the most memorable films of the 1970s, notably because it featured two scenes that long stay in the memory after watching them. The first famously depicts a city man playing ‘Duelling Banjos’ with a young lad from the Georgian countryside. The second is a brutal rape scene in which the victim is told to “squeal like a pig”.
Deliverance tells of four businessmen from Atlanta taking a trip into the wilderness to canoe down a river before it is dammed. However, the locals are less than impressed by their arrival, leading to the rape of one of the men. When the men take revenge, all hell breaks loose in the film starring Jon Voight, Burt Reynolds, Ned Beatty and Ronny Cox.
91. The Passenger (Michelangelo Antonioni, 1975)
Michelangelo Antonioni signed a three-picture deal with Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, and after the release of 1966’s Blowup and 1970’s Zabriskie Point, he completed the deal with one of his best films, 1975’s The Passenger. The film tells of an alienated journalist who takes on the fake identity of a dead businessman whilst working on a documentary in Chad.
However, Jack Nicholson’s character, David Locke, does not know that he is pretending to be a weapons dealer with a connection to the Chad Civil War rebellion. Nicholson stars alongside Maria Schneider, who plays an unnamed woman who joins him along the way. Schneider’s performance drew acclaim from Roger Ebert in 2005, who called it “a performance of breathtaking spontaneity”.
90. Chess of the Wind (Mohammad Reza Aslani, 1976)
The magnificence of Mohammad Reza Aslani’s 1976 film Chess of the Wind lies in the story of its actual tapes themselves. Prior to the 1979 revolution in Iran, Chess of the Wind was screened just once and was greeted by a mostly negative reception. However, the original negatives were rediscovered in 2014, and a restored version was screened in 2020 in several countries worldwide to a positive reception.
The film focuses on a tussle for the inheritance of an aristocratic family when the head of the family dies. The natural heir to the estate is a paralysed girl, although she comes up against the family’s maid, the nanny and the nephews. Most remarkable is Aslani’s use of light, which he claimed to have been inspired by Stanley Kubrick’s Barry Lyndon.
89. Solaris (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1972)
Andrei Tarkovsky’s 1972 science fiction masterpiece is an adaptation of Polish author Stanislaw Lem’s 1961 novel of the same name. It tells of a space station that orbits the titular planet where its crew have descended into emotional and psychological madness. A psychologist is sent to the station to evaluate the mental state of the crew, only to experience the same fate.
Solaris is considered by many to be Tarkovsky’s answer to Stanley Kubrick’s science fiction epic 2001: A Space Odyssey. Tarkovsky felt that many of the most popular science fiction films lacked the emotional intensity that great cinema ought to possess, with their primary focus on technological innovation. With Solaris, Tarkovsky restored the inner workings of humankind to the genre.
88. The American Friend (Wim Wenders, 1977)
In 1977, legendary German director Wim Wenders adapted Patricia Highsmith’s 1974 novel Ripley’s Game into a neo-noir classic entitled The American Friend. Dennis Hopper starred as the career criminal Tom Ripley while Bruno Ganz played Jonathan Zimmermann, a terminally ill man whom Ripley pressurises into becoming an assassin.
A remarkable feature of The American Friend is its use of language; Zimmermann talks in German with his family and friends while conversing effortlessly with Ripley in English and the scenes set in Paris. Tom Ripley is, of course, featured in a number of Highsmith novels, including The Talented Mr. Ripley (where he was portrayed by Matt Damon in the 1999 film adaptation), but perhaps Hopper’s version of him in The American Friend is the best.
87. All the President’s Men (Alan J. Pakula, 1976)
Alan J. Pakula delivered one of the best political drama-thrillers of the 1970s with his 1976 film All the President’s Men. He based the movie on a 1974 non-fiction book of the same name by Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein, in which the two Washington Post writers tell of the Watergate Scandal that brought down the United States President, Richard Nixon.
Robert Redford plays Bob Woodward, while Dustin Hoffman plays Carl Bernstein in two career-defining roles. However, where the book tells of the entire Watergates scandal, Pakula’s film provides a more focused intensity by centring on a seven-month period from the initial break-in of the Democratic National Committee headquarters up to Nixon’s second Presidential inauguration, subsequently implanting the term “follow the money” into the American consciousness, which had not appeared in the book’s text.
86. Pink Flamingos (John Waters, 1972)
Pink Flamingos is the first film in what its director John Waters dubbed the Trash Trilogy, completed by 1974’s Female Trouble and 1977’s Desperate Living. It stars the famous countercultural drag queen Divine as herself whilst living under the name Babs Johnson, a career criminal who takes great pride in being “the filthiest person alive”. Equally proud is the film’s tagline, “An exercise in poor taste”.
The black comedy film focuses on a pair of criminals who are jealous of Divine’s filthiness and try to outdo her in that respect. This competition led to a series of grotesque and outlandish occurrences (including the consumption of dog faeces) that revolted the film’s original audiences, leading to a ban in several countries. However, since it was rereleased in 1997, Pink Flamingos has gone on to achieve cult status.
85. 3 Women (Robert Altman, 1977)
Robert Altman’s 1977 psychological drama 3 Women concerns the peculiar relationship between a woman (played by Shelley Duvall) and her roommate and work colleague (Sissy Spacek). The film takes place in a remote Californian desert town and takes its primary inspiration from a dream that Altman had, focusing on the themes of psychoanalysis and identity.
When his wife was in the hospital, Altman had a restless sleep in which he dreamt he was directing a film about identity set in the desert starring Spacek and Duvall. When he awoke, he quickly made notes on a pad before trying to gather more details by going back to sleep. However, he did not garner a specific plotline, so he began the project without a proper screenplay, although Ingmar Bergman’s 1966 film Persona undoubtedly influenced him.
84. Demons (Toshio Matsumoto, 1971)
Toshio Matsumoto’s 1971 masterpiece Demons tells of Gengobe Satsuma, who has been exiled from his samurai clan. However, the disgraced Ronin is given another chance to rejoin his kin in order to take up arms against the horrific onslaught of the Shogunate. Satsuma’s servant helps him to raise the money required to be accepted back into the clan: 100 Ryo.
Satsuma comes into moral difficulty, though, because he falls in love with Koman, a conniving geisha. When Koman is set to be sold to another man, his allegiances are torn as the price to keep her for himself is exactly 100 Ryo. Demons is a beautifully tender yet powerful feature that demonstrates Matsumoto’s expertise in storytelling and visual art and design.
83. A Grin Without a Cat (Chris Marker, 1977)
In 1977, Chris Marker released an essay in the form of a film entitled A Grin Without a Cat, which centres on the political upheaval in the 1960s and 1970s. Marker explores the rise of the French New Left and the several socialist movements that had arisen in Latin America. The film’s title is of particular importance, implying that a socialist revolution is imminent (the grin) without it ever actually appearing.
The English translation of the French title of the film (Le fond de l’air est rouge) is “The essence of the air is red,” which implies that the socialist movement (often referred to by the colour red) merely exists in the air, in the whispers of those involved, rather than in any historical actuality. Marker predominantly explains this notion through interviews with a number of French socialist leaders, theorists and students.
82. In the Realm of the Senses (Nagisa Ōshima, 1976)
Nagisa Ōshima’s In the Realm of the Senses was the source of great controversy upon its release in 1976. The film is a fictionalised and highly sexual account of a 1936 murder committed by Sada Abe, a geisha who strangled her lover and cut off his genitals, then carried them around in her kimono. It also features unsimulated sex scenes between Eiko Matsuda and Tatsuta Fuji.
The censorship laws in Japan at the time meant that the film could not be released as Ōshima had intended, so he listed it as a (fittingly) French production. The raw footage was sent to France to be edited, and when it returned to Japan in its final form, the explicit sex scenes were censored using a blurring technique. Japan was not the only country to take issue with In the Realm of the Senses, though, as Germany, Belgium, and the United States also took issue with it.
81. The Wicker Man (Robin Hardy, 1973)
The original The Wicker Man is often considered one of the best horror films of all time. Robin Hardy directed the pagan-centric movie from a screenplay by Anthony Shaffer, inspired by Ritual, a 1967 novel by David Pinner. The film focuses on a police sergeant sent to a remote Scottish island to try and find a missing young girl.
Sergeant Neil Howe is a faithful Christian and is shocked when he discovers that the island’s inhabitants have shunned the word of God in favour of practising a form of Celtic Paganism. Hardy’s film brought the very notion of the druidic sacrificial wicker man into the consciousness of 20th-century society and is fully deserving of its widespread acclaim. We ought to ignore the awful 2006 American remake starring Nicolas Cage, of course, as the only Wicker Man we should ever watch burn is Hardy’s chilling masterpiece.
80. The Sting (George Roy Hill, 1973)
Caper/heist films were still all the rage in the early 1970s, and in 1973, a classic of the genre was released. The Sting stars Paul Newman and Robert Redford as a pair of professional conmen who devise a complex plot in 1936 to rob a mob boss played by Robert Shaw. Director George Roy Hill had already directed Newman and Redford in Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, so the electric chemistry is practically seeping through the screen with this later effort.
The film was inspired by confidence tricks of real life, particularly those of the brothers Fred and Charley Gondorff. There’s an old-fashioned feel to The Sting, and is a welcome throwback to days gone by. The film ended up being nominated for ten Oscars at the Academy Awards and won seven of them, including ‘Best Picture’ and ‘Best Director’, so it’s certainly deserving of its place on this list.
79. Young Frankenstein (Mel Brooks, 1974)
It’s not often you find one of the first instances of science fiction horror on the receiving end of a comedy film treatment, but that’s thankfully what we got with Mel Brooks and Gene Wilder’s 1974 movie Young Frankenstein. Wilder plays the titular role of the grandson of the legendary Dr. Victor Frankenstein from Mary Shelley’s famous 1818 novel Frankenstein.
The brilliance of the movie comes from young Frederick Frankenstein’s reluctance to follow in his forebearer’s footsteps and his trying to carve out a career as a lecturing physician. When he inherits the family’s property in Transylvania, though, he finds the old way of life hard to resist and even harder to adapt to. The film, beautifully shot in black-and-white, is a refreshingly hilarious take on a longstanding narrative and a homage to the many Frankenstein films of the 1930s.
78. The Last Waltz (Martin Scorsese, 1978)
Documentaries might not be the first kind of films that you associate with Martin Scorsese, but the legendary director took charge of the greatest movies in the genre. The subject of 1978’s The Last Waltz was the final concert of the iconic American-Canadian rock band The Band, which took place at the Winterland Ballroom in San Francisco on November 25th 1976.
The band’s former tour manager, Jonathan Taplin, had suggested that Scorsese would be the perfect man to capture the event on film, and through the resultant movie, we see The Band lay it all down one final time with guest appearances from some of the biggest musical names of the 20th Century, including Bob Dylan, Neil Young, Eric Clapton and Joni Mitchell. The Last Waltz is simply a celebration of rock and folk music and is now an exhilarating voyage into the past.
77. Carrie (Brian De Palma, 1976)
There have been countless adaptations of the novels of Stephen King by now, with some excellent and others admittedly lacking in quality. One of the best, however, is certainly Brian De Palma’s take on King’s 1974 novel Carrie, which was realised for the screen by Lawrence D. Cohen. Carrie was King’s first published novel, so it only took two years to show that his stories were perfect film narratives as well as prose ones.
Carrie stars Sissy Spacek as Carrie White, a young teenage girl who is bullied at school and made a mockery of at every opportunity. Carrie comes from an abusive religious family, and when a prank on prom night sees her doused in blood and humiliated in front of her peers, she unleashes her telekinetic powers and wreaks havoc on those who brought such misery into her life. Carrie is a true classic of the horror genre and is a must-watch movie of the 1970s.
76. Midnight Express (Alan Parker, 1978)
In 1977, Billy Hayes released a memoir by the name of Midnight Express, which told of his experience of being sent to a Turkish prison after trying to smuggle hashish out of the country into the United States. Hayes’ sentence was extended to 30 years when the US decided to make an example of him in the “War on Drugs”. A film adaptation arrived the following year, written by Oliver Stone, directed by Alan Parker and starring Brad Davis as Hayes.
Midnight Express – slang for an escape attempt – is a harrowing retelling of Hayes’ story, and Davis plays the character with true dedication and poignancy and a Giorgio Moroder score elevates the tension of the narrative, winning the ‘Best Original Score’ in the process. Parker’s film drew criticism for taking liberties with the source material and for portraying Turks in an overly violent light, but his movie is still one that sticks long in the memory after viewing.
75. The Bitter Tears of Petra von Kant (Rainer Werner Fassbinder, 1972)
Rainer Werner Fassbinder directed the 1972 German romantic drama The Bitter Tears of Petra von Kant as a screen adaptation of his own play of the same name. The movie boasts an all-female cast and focuses on the life of the titular protagonist, Petra von Kant (played by Margit Carstensen), a narcissistic fashion designer from Bremen, Germany, and her ever-changing relationships with a string of other women.
Fassbinder’s movie arrives in four acts that take place in Petra’s bedroom, each distinguished by her differing hair and clothing, which also represent her current state of mind. There’s a real theatrical element behind the film, which gives an undeniable sense of beauty. The motif of loneliness and the ensuing battle for love that comes with it is central to The Bitter Tears, and it is a true classic of European cinema.
74. Case for a Rookie Hangman (Pavel Juráček, 1970)
Pavel Juráček’s brilliantly titled drama Case for a Rookie Hangman arrived in 1970. The work of the Czech New Wave is loosely based on Jonathan Swift’s third book, Gulliver’s Travels, but Juráček takes the narrative and transports it to the beginning of the 20th Century when the world looks to be in a ruinous state.
There are undoubted nods to the work of fellow Czech artist Franz Kafka and also to Lewis Carroll in Case for a Rookie Hangman in the way it uses surrealist and absurdist modes of storytelling. And like Kafka, there is an underlying satirical humour with Czech socialist society being the certain target of derision. The film was “banned forever” upon its release, which largely contributed to the end of Juráček’s film career, but that only makes it all the more important in a cultural context.
73. Don’t Look Now (Nicolas Roeg, 1973)
Allan Scott and Chris Bryant took a 1971 short story by Daphne du Maurier and handed it to the legendary English filmmaker Nicholas Roeg to direct. The result was 1973’s Don’t Look Now, in which Donald Sutherland and Julie Christie play a married couple who venture out to Venice when Sutherland’s character, John Baxter, accepts a job to restore a church following the accidental death of he and his wife’s daughter.
Upon arriving, the couple is informed that their daughter is trying to contact them through a clairvoyant, and John soon starts having mysterious visions despite his scepticism. Don’t Look Now is a fascinating insight into how the human heart and mind work when they are in the process of grief, portrayed through a cinematic style that is utterly impressionistic. Roeg’s film features some of the best editing of the 1970s from Graeme Clifford and is a truly compelling, moving watch.
72. Cries and Whispers (Ingmar Bergman, 1972)
Ingmar Bergman’s 1972 period drama Cries and Whispers takes place in a mansion at the close of the 19th Century. It focuses on three sisters (played by Harriet Andersson, Liv Ullman and Ingrid Thulin) and their servant (Kari Sylwan) and the relationship difficulties that arise when one of the sisters is diagnosed with terminal cancer.
Bergman was inspired by the life of his mother, Karin Åkerblom, and also by a recurring dream he had of four women in white clothing in a red room conversing in whispered dialogue with one another. The Swedish director felt that this dream was an allegory for his lonely, unhappy childhood and Cries and Whispers is the resultant reflective work of cinematic art. Each of the women in the film is said to represent a different part of Bergman’s mother’s personality, and the emotive nature of this conception shines through in every moment.
71. The Conformist (Bernardo Bertolucci, 1970)
In 1970, Italian director Bernardo Bertolucci adapted Alberto Moravia’s 1951 novel The Conformist for the screen. The film stars Jean-Louis Trintignant, Stefania Sandrelli, Dominique Sanda and Gastone Moschin and takes place in 1930s fascist Italy. At the centre of the narrative is a young fascist named Marcello Clerici, who is sent to murder his former professor, an antifascist dissident who lives in Paris.
If things weren’t complicated enough to start off with for Marcello, then they certainly are when he begins an affair with his former professor’s wife. The greatest thing about The Conformist is certainly its excellent cinematography, expertly captured by Vittorio Storaro. If the initial widespread critical acclaim won’t convince you of Bertolucci’s film’s magnificence, then the fact that it inspired Francis Ford Coppola’s Godfather trilogy certainly should.
70. The Mouth Agape (Maurice Pialat, 1974)
Maurice Pialat’s 1974 drama The Mouth Agape tells of a woman in the throes of terminal illness whilst simultaneously managing the difficult respective relationships she has with her husband and her son. The film uses a realistic approach to cinema to portray its narrative, and even though the final result was one of the worst commercially performing films of Pialat’s career, it is arguably one of his artistic high points.
There’s a real tragedy at the heart of The Mouth Agape – the title refers to the position one’s mouth often assumes upon death – and it all comes down to that reality, that honesty, through which Pialat chooses to tell his story. It’s believed that there’s an element of autobiography in his film, and it tells of the death of his own mother. In that light, it’s easy to see why The Mouth Agape is so well-championed; it’s a tough watch at times but a truly rewarding one nonetheless.
69. News From Home (Chantal Akerman, 1977)
Avant-garde filmmaker Chantal Akerman made waves with her feminist masterpiece Jeanne Dielman, 23 quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles in 1975. Two years later, she released the experimental documentary News From Home, cementing her as one of the decade’s most vital filmmakers. The film is based on a period of Akerman’s life where she was “living like a vagabond” in New York City, attempting to bolster a filmmaking career.
Long takes of significant places from Akerman’s life, such as the Times Square subway and Staten Island Ferry, are framed with Akerman’s voice added over the top. She reads letters she received from her mother during this period of her life, revealing themes of isolation, detachment and family. News From Home is astoundingly nostalgic and melancholic, harnessing an effortless beauty in its simplicity.
68. Amarcord (Federico Fellini, 1973)
Known for his work in the 1950s and 1960s, such as La Dolce Vita and 8½, Federico Fellini released Amarcord in 1973, winning him his fourth Oscar for ‘Best Foreign Language Film’. The film, partly inspired by Fellini’s own childhood memories, follows a young boy, Titta, living in 1930s Italy under Fascist rule. Based on Fellini’s old friend Luigi Titta Benzi, Titta lives amongst a vibrant cast of characters who are portrayed as though they’re members of a circus. Nostalgia and comedy blend together as Fellini recalls his youth, making light of the dominance of the Catholic Church and the Fascist leadership.
The larger-than-life characters are fascinating to watch, framed through brightly-coloured cinematography. As is common in Fellini’s work, he explores fantasy and dreams, and Amarcord does so with tenderness reflected in its young protagonist. The eccentricity of Amarcord is joyous, yet Fellini also provides a nuanced look at life under an authoritarian regime.
67. Harold and Maude (Hal Ashby, 1971)
Hal Ashby started his career as a movie editor, winning an Oscar for his work on Norman Jewison’s In the Heat of the Night. After he made his film debut in 1970 with The Landlord, Ashby released Harold and Maude the following year. It remains his most-loved film, although it was notoriously divisive upon its arrival. The dark comedy follows Bud Cort’s Harold, a 19-year-old existentialist obsessed with death. While indulging in humorously bizarre behaviour, such as driving a hearse and attending strangers’ funerals, he meets a woman whose beliefs couldn’t be more different.
79-year-old Maude is a carefree woman in love with everything life has to offer. The pair strike up an unlikely connection, resulting in a controversial age-gap relationship. Despite its taboo subject matter, the film is unmistakably warm and tender, retaining the recently passed hippie era’s optimistic sensibilities. In the decades since its release, it has been rightfully recognised as one of the greatest American movies ever made.
66. Padatik (Mrinal Sen, 1973)
Part of the New Indian Cinema movement, otherwise known as Parallel Cinema, Padatik (The Guerilla Fighter) forms part of Mrinal Sen’s Calcutta trilogy, which also includes Interview and Calcutta 71. The film focuses on a young political activist (Dhritiman Chaterji) who escapes from a prison van and finds respite in a flat owned by an equally rebellious yet well-off woman (Simi Garewal).
A desperate cry for people to recognise the social and political state of India during the early 1970s, Padatik is bold and ambitious. The characters reflect on their ideologies and the organisation of political structures. Similarly, audiences cannot walk away from Sen’s film without questions about their own beliefs and the world around them. Complete with a fragmentary structure, Padatik was a revolutionary entry to the political cinema canon in India, perfectly capturing the state of the country with immediacy.
65. The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (Tobe Hooper, 1974)
Tobe Hooper’s seminal slasher The Texas Chainsaw Massacre was a feat of the horror genre, emerging in 1974 with enough gore and grossness to make audiences physically uncomfortable. With its unpolished aesthetic and low-budget qualities, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre possesses an unnerving atmosphere that feels strikingly real. The film’s simple yet unforgettable plot helped pioneer the slasher genre, making it one of the most influential horror films of all time. At the start of the film, Hooper introduces us to a group of naive teenagers who explore an abandoned house, only to find themselves the victims of a ruthless chainsaw-wielding killer wearing a mask made of human flesh.
The film boasts one of the earliest examples of the ‘final girl’ trope, as well as establishing other common horror tropes, such as the menacingly silent, mask-wearing murderous stalker. Although the film received mixed reviews upon its release, it redefined the horror genre’s potential, inspiring generations of directors to come.
64. The Holy Mountain (Alejandro Jodorowsky, 1973)
After the success of El Topo, an acid western, Alejandro Jodorowsky returned with The Holy Mountain, a surreal masterpiece partly funded by John Lennon and Yoko Ono. Not only did the director star in the film, but he also produced, wrote, co-edited, and co-scored it, alongside assisting with the set and costume design. The auteur plays a powerful man who leads a group of people, including a holy, god-like figure, towards The Holy Mountain.
The movie is ripe with bizarre, acid-fuelled imagery that feels simultaneously modern and distinctively ‘70s. The filmmaker was dedicated to the production, even staying awake for a week straight with a Japanese Zen master and taking plenty of LSD to aid creativity. Although the bright colours are a slight attack on the senses, you can’t help but be blown away by the sheer beauty of every frame. Jodorowsky’s movie is evocative and visceral – one you’ll certainly never forget.
63. Paper Moon (Peter Bogdanovich, 1973)
After releasing his breakthrough film, The Last Picture Show, in 1971, Peter Bogdanovich continued to cement himself as a key figure of New Hollywood with movies such as What’s Up, Doc? and Paper Moon. The latter remains one of his greatest achievements, earning an Academy Award nomination for ‘Best Adapted Screenplay’. Although the movie lost out to The Exorcist, Tatum O’Neal, the ten-year-old star of Paper Moon, won ‘Best Supporting Actress’. O’Neal starred in the road movie alongside her real-life father, Ryan O’Neal, playing an unlikely duo – Moses and Addie.
The movie follows the pair as they journey from Kansas to Missouri during the Great Depression, with Moses responsible for delivering the orphaned child, who is quite possibly his daughter, to her aunt’s house. Despite her initial stubbornness and bold attitude, Addie soon proves herself to be a helpful pawn in Moses’ scams, as he goes door-to-door selling bibles. Both funny and warm, Bogdanovich’s film is beautifully acted and astutely written.
62. Fantastic Planet (René Laloux, 1973)
One of the most visually stunning animated movies is easily Fantastic Planet, a retro-futuristic dream that invites the audience to revel in gloriously surreal imagery. Directed by René Laloux, who also co-wrote the movie with the film’s production designer, Roland Topor, Fantastic Planet was inspired by the novel Oms en série by Stefan Wul. The film took home the Grand Prix prize at the Cannes Film Festival in 1973, a testament to its sheer brilliance.
The film follows a group of blue humanoid creatures called Traags, who live on the planet Ygam, keeping humans, known as Oms, as pets. The Traags view the Oms as less advanced, routinely killing them to control the population size. Fantastic Planet, which was released a few decades after World War II and the Holocaust, is ripe with allegory, using lucid imagery to explore themes of racism, destruction and human rights. Its soundtrack, created by Alain Goraguer, is also incredible, blending psychedelic synths with jazz, folk and lounge stylings.
61. Trafic (Jacquea Tati, 1971)
French filmmaker and comic Jacques Tati was known for playing his humorous character Monsieur Hulot, who appeared in several films, including Mon Oncle and Playtime. His last appearance came in 1971’s Trafic, where he features as a clumsy car designer. On the way to an auto show, Hulot and his companions get themselves into a series of laughter-inducing events.
Inspired by silent movie slapstick stars, Hulot often finds himself at odds with the rapidly developing modern world, and his naive nature is a pleasure to watch. Tati uses humour well, brandishing it as an attack on consumerism and the monotony of modernity. Trafic endures decades later due to its universality and comedic assault on capitalism, something we are all victims of. With a nostalgic brand of humour that recalls youth and simplicity, Trafic is a fantastic comedy from the ‘70s that is consistently enjoyable to revisit.
60. Through and Through (Grzegorz Królikiewicz, 1973)
Directed by Grzegorz Królikiewicz, Through and Through is an incredibly underrated film based on the real-life case of a couple who murdered multiple people in their desperate attempts to survive poverty. The film depicts the meeting between Maria and Jan, who encounter each other in a bar in Krakow. Unemployed and financially depleted, the couple, who soon marry, resort to disastrous means as a way to secure monetary security. After a few hours of living lavishly, they are arrested and sentenced to death, attempting to explain their meagre existence to a bunch of unsympathetic court members.
The two attempt to take the blame for the other to spare their lover, demonstrating the intensity of their romance. Naturally, the film poses many moral questions and explores the desperation and violence that can occur as a result of poverty, attacking the government’s lack of support for its citizens. The movie also utilises many interesting techniques, such as allowing major events to take place off-screen, adding a further layer of moral ambiguity to the narrative.
59. The Spirit of the Beehive (Victor Eric, 1973)
Victor Erice’s debut film, The Spirit of the Beehive, is a fascinating portrayal of childhood set in 1940s Spain. The movie follows a six-year-old girl, Ana, a quiet child who finds herself obsessed with the 1931 horror film Frankenstein after a mobile cinema comes to her isolated village. Despite strict censors operating in Spain at the time, Erice loads the film with symbolism to communicate the effects of civil war and authoritarianism.
By centring the young child at the centre of the narrative, Erice depicts the world framed through innocence and naivety. Through an exploration of imagination, dreams and spirits, The Spirit of the Beehive is a unique look at childhood, but it also reflects the social turmoil that spawned from political unrest. Beautifully shot in muted tones by Luis Cuadrado, Erice’s movie is incredibly poignant yet understated.
58. Being There (Hal Ashby, 1979)
In this American satire starring the wonderfully versatile Peter Sellers, Hal Ashby presents us with the tale of a simple-minded gardener who has spent his entire life in the employment of a much wealthier man. Completely cut off from the outside world and devoid of any other contact, Chance (played by Sellers) lives in his boss’ townhouse and has been raised and educated solely on television. When the owner of the house dies, Chance is forced to relocate, incurring all the difficulties that come with acclimatising to an entirely new life.
Despite his simplicity, he has learned the outward appearance of a man of high standing, walking and talking like his former boss and wearing finely tailored suits too. This causes everyone around him to mistake him for something he’s not, and what ensues is a hilarious yarn about an uncomplicated man whose gardening-based truisms make him an absolute hit with the high-society elite. Funny yet tender and moving, Being There finds its finely tuned balance early on and maintains it to the very end.
57. Star Wars (George Lucas, 1977)
The impact that George Lucas’ 1977 sci-fi space epic Star Wars has exerted over cinema and popular culture since its release cannot be understated. The movie helped to popularise blockbusters and the science-fiction genre, becoming one of the most financially successful films ever made. Star Wars follows Luke Skywalker and his crew as they attempt to save the Galaxy from the Galactic Empire and rescue Princess Leia from the evil Darth Vader. Discussing the film’s plot, Lucas said, “It’s the flotsam and jetsam from the period when I was twelve years old. All the books and films and comics that I liked when I was a child. The plot is simple – good against evil – and the film is designed to be all the fun things and fantasy things I remember. The word for this movie is fun.”
The film birthed countless iconic, albeit oft-misquoted lines, such as “I am your father” and “May the force be with you”, alongside recognisable characters such as Chewbacca and R2-D2. The release – and subsequent success – of Star Wars dramatically changed the film industry, leading to a shift towards big-budget blockbusters and franchises. Moreover, the use of special effects also led to major developments in the field, shaping the future possibilities of cinema.
56. Four Nights of a Dreamer (Robert Bresson, 1971)
French director Robert Bresson is perhaps best known for his work in the 1950s and 1960s, including Pickpocket, Au Hasard Balthazar, and A Man Escaped. However, the filmmaker released three films in the 1970s, the strongest being Four Nights of a Dreamer, a severely underrated entry from the renowned director. Often incorporating flashbacks, the film, inspired by Fyodor Dostoyevsky’s 1848 short story White Nights, follows Jacques, an artist, who saves a woman from committing suicide. Over the course of the film, the pair connect as they wander through Paris, only for Jacques to find out that Marthe’s former lover is not as absent as he initially believed.
Bresson’s tale of heartache and unrequited love is shot beautifully, incorporating elements of humour, which are often purely visual. Bresson’s poetic and sometimes erotic tale is a sumptuous exploration of desire, sensitively acted by both Guillaume des Forêts and Isabelle Weingarten.
55. Grey Gardens (Albert Maysles, David Maysles, Muffie Meyer, Ellen Hovde, 1975)
Grey Gardens is a seminal documentary from the 1970s, primarily directed by Albert Maysles and David Maysles, with additional direction from Muffie Meyer and Ellen Hovde. The film follows Edith ‘Big Edie’ Ewing Bouvier Beale and Edith ‘Little Edie’ Bouvier Beale, a reclusive upper-class mother-daughter duo living in their derelict poverty-stricken mansion, Grey Gardens. The pair were the aunt and first cousin, respectively, of the former US First Lady and wife of President John F. Kennedy, Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis.
However, for years, they lived in squalor with little money, and several publications eventually exposed their animal-infested living conditions. Facing eviction, Kennedy and her sister Lee Radziwell provided the pair with enough money to restore the house, which became the focus of Grey Gardens. The filmmakers use a direct cinema technique to intimately allow the pair to tell their story. Grey Gardens is a fascinating yet tragic look at the lives of two women whose lives had not turned out the way they planned. The fragility of the American dream lingers over Grey Gardens, making for an incredibly insightful, albeit heartbreaking, watch.
54. The Adversary (Satyajit Ray, 1970)
Whisking us away to the streets of Kolkata, The Adversary (known in India as Pratidwandi) tells the story of Siddhartha, a well-educated middle-class medical student who must put his studies on hold when his father dies. Seeking employment so that he can fill the financial void left by the recently deceased patriarch, Siddhartha’s job hunt takes him across a city that is exploding with turmoil and civil unrest.
As the streets behind him are set ablaze, caught in the throes of violent upheaval, the protagonist navigates from unsuccessful interview to unsuccessful interview, growing increasingly anxious and taking on a level of stress that causes him to begin hallucinating.
Fluctuating between epic wide shots, personal close-ups and even documentary archive footage, this collage of sound and sight illustrates a turbulent time in India’s history and the first in a trio of films known as the ‘Calcutta’ trilogy, which announced a powerful voice in Indian cinema with a lot to say about the state of the country.
53. Picnic at Hanging Rock (Peter Weir, 1975)
Peter Weir’s second film was the hypnotic Picnic at Hanging Rock, adapted by Cliff Green from the 1967 novel of the same name by Joan Lindsay. The movie, a cornerstone of the Australian New Wave, explores the disappearance of a group of teenage girls and their teacher during a Valentine’s Day picnic at Hanging Rock.
Set in 1900, the movie features stunning costume design, which earned designer Judith Dorsman a Bafta nomination. Moreover, Picnic at Hanging Rock boasts dreamy visuals inspired by Impressionist paintings, often draping various veils over the camera to achieve a hazy look. The film’s visual and thematic style has been hugely influential, most notably reflected in the work of contemporary filmmakers like Sofia Coppola.
Picnic at Hanging Rock bubbles with tension and sexual repression, mounting in the heat of the sun-drenched trip. Upon its release, many audiences complained that the film failed to offer a solution to the mystery, but this, of course, entirely misses the point of Weir’s covert horror, which aims to unsettle through exploring the unexplainable.
52. The Man Who Sleeps (Bernard Queysanne, 1974)
This brazen French film from 1974 is a psychological investigation into the psyche of one man referred to as ‘You’. Experimenting with themes of identity, as well as the inclusion of the audience themselves, the narrative framework involves the adventures of a university student whose inner monologue is narrated in the form of a diary, as read by a woman.
The Man Who Sleeps is ground-breaking in its application of the second-person narrative, which in turn came from the book of the same name by Georges Perec. Inviting us to walk in his shoes, the movie chronicles You as he attempts to completely and utterly extract himself from civilization, having grown disillusioned by humanity. Society is portrayed as an oppressive and claustrophobic force, with a narration wracked with paranoia and delirium, and with its gloriously luminescent black-and-white photography, the film evokes a visceral feeling similar to what Darren Aronofsky would do 24 years later with Pi.
51. Investigation of a Citizen Above Suspicion (Elio Petri, 1970)
A darkly comic yet scathing satire that tears into the political corruption plaguing Italy, Elio Petri’s crime thriller Investigation of a Citizen Above Suspicion leaves a legacy still revered today. This 1970 crime thriller follows a high-ranking police officer who tests the limits of diplomatic immunity by first murdering his mistress and then meddling with the investigation into her demise.
Winning the Grand Jury Prize at Cannes, the Academy Award for ‘Best Foreign Language Film’ and earning a ‘Best Screenplay’ nomination, too, Petri’s masterclass in melodrama made waves with audiences and critics alike and dazzled the international film community with his unflinching character study of the wretched ‘Il Dottore’. Known simply as ‘the Doctor’, the object of the film slyly navigates the justice system, playing fellow investigators off against other criminals, before cranking the stakes up to 11 by purposefully leaving clues that lead to himself. His purpose? To arrogantly prove that he’s a citizen above suspicion.
50. Perfumed Nightmare (Kidlat Tahimik, 1977)
This defining piece of Filipino cinema is a sumptuous and lyrical tale of a small-town taxi driver with big dreams. Written and directed by Kidlak Tahimik, Perfumed Nightmare also has the filmmaker in the lead role and follows his journey from a rural village in the Philippines to the cultural centre of Europe. Hailing from the province of Laguna, situated in a country once colonised by three different nations, Kidlak’s desire to become an astronaut and experience the American dream leads him on a journey of both self-discovery and tragic disillusionment.
Lavish soundscapes and documentary-style camera work come together to create an immersive experience that lets the audience see Western culture through the eyes of Kidlak. Partly influenced by his years working there, the depiction of Kidlak in Paris serves to interrogate the notion of European supremacy and acts as a playful yet poignant analysis of neocolonialism.
49. The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser (Werner Herzog, 1974)
Pioneering New German Cinema director Werner Herzog, a champion of both narrative and documentary cinema, released his fourth fictional feature film in 1974, The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser. The film, starring Bruno Schleinstein and Walter Ladengast, mirrors the real-life story of a foundling named Kaspar Hauser, using his real letters as source material. For the first 17 years of his life, Hauser was chained inside a cellar, his only interaction with a human coming in the form of a mysterious black-clothed man. Werner’s film chronicles Hauser’s release into the world as he learns to read, write, walk, and talk, discovering a love for music.
With echoes of David Lynch’s future release, The Elephant Man (it’s hard to imagine that the director didn’t take inspiration from Herzog’s tale), the film is told sensitively and intimately. Moreover, Herzog chose to cast Schleinstein, a non-actor, who had spent much of his childhood in a mental institution when he wasn’t being abused at home. In doing so, Schleinstein brings an added realism to the story, no doubt influenced by Herzog’s experience as a documentary filmmaker. The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser is an underrated gem from Herzog’s early period and a captivating must-see film about humanity and survival.
48. Ali: Fear Eats the Soul (Rainer Werner Fassbinder, 1974)
As a key figure of the New German Cinema movement alongside contemporaries such as Werner Herzog, Margarethe von Trotta, and Wim Wenders, Rainer Werner Fassbinder created plenty of influential films. However, one of his most enduring is Ali: Fear Eats the Soul. The 1974 drama has been praised as one of his greatest works, taking home multiple awards, such as the ‘Prize of the Ecumenical Jury’ at the Cannes Film Festival.
In Ali: Fear Eats the Soul, an old cleaning lady, Emmi, embarks on an unlikely relationship with a younger mechanic, Ali, whom she meets at a bar predominantly visited by Arabian immigrants. People are quick to criticise the relationship, leaving them to reckon with feelings of uncertainty and loneliness. The movie is expertly crafted, and Fassbinder demonstrates his genius through flawless introductions to each character, both of whom are portrayed incredibly by Brigitte Mira and El Hedi Ben Salem. Emotional and intense, Fassbinder’s film explores racial tensions and societal prejudices, and the result is one of his finest masterpieces.
47. Wanda (Barbara Loden, 1970)
Wanda is a landmark of independent American filmmaking. Written and directed by Barbara Loden, who also stars as the eponymous protagonist, Wanda tells the tale of a woman who inadvertently goes on the run with a bank robber, inspired by her own feelings of aimlessness, alongside a newspaper article detailing the story of a female robber. Loden shot the film on location with a skeleton crew of about seven people, often improvising much of the dialogue herself.
Loden’s powerful film was her only feature, yet leaves us wishing she had the chance to create more enthralling pieces of cinema before her tragic passing in 1980. Wanda is a gritty, realistic image of America, unsentimentally painting the portrait of a woman, disengaged and struggling, that stands in stark contrast with the shiny Hollywood movies Loden had previously starred in. She claimed she was only interested in presenting the world “as it actually is” and utilised a cinema-verite style to achieve her aims.
Discussing the process of making Wanda, Loden once told the American Film Institute, “I don’t see how anybody can predetermine how their movie is going to turn out, or why anybody would want to. […] You start to make a movie, and when you finish it, you’ll be a different person.”
46. Annie Hall (Woody Allen, 1977)
Although we cannot ignore the realities of controversy that surrounds Woody Allen‘s personal life, a list of the best films of the 1970s would not be complete without the inclusion of Annie Hall, especially considering its influence over the romantic comedy genre. Before the film’s release, Allen typically made light-hearted comedies. However, with Annie Hall, Allen blended his self-deprecating, neurotic humour with an intricate analysis of gender differences, Jewish identity and love, often referencing psychoanalysis. Allen plays the leading role of Alvy Singer, heavily based on himself, alongside Diane Keaton as the eponymous love interest, in a role specifically written for the actor.
Over the course of the film, Alvy attempts to figure out what went wrong in his relationship with Annie, not without cameos from iconic actors such as Christopher Walken and Shelley Duvall. Allen stated in Woody Allen on Woody Allen that “I really count Annie Hall as the first step toward maturity, in some way, in making films,” aided by his collaboration with cinematographer Gordon Willis.
Allen’s film is one of the most influential comedies ever made, perfectly mixing thoughtful character studies and social commentary with smart humour. Annie Hall took home four Oscars: ‘Best Picture’, ‘Best Director’, ‘Best Original Screenplay’ and ‘Best Actress’ for Keaton.
45. Love in the Afternoon (Eric Rohmer, 1972)
When we think of directors associated with the French New Wave, names such as Jean-Luc Godard, Francois Truffaut and Jacques Rivette spring to mind. Yet Eric Rohmer, older than his contemporaries by at least a decade, became one of the era’s most enduring figures, maintaining a high standard of captivating work decades after the end of the movement. The director’s first film series, Six Moral Tales, began in 1963 with the short The Bakery Girl of Monceau. However, the final instalment in the series, 1972’s Love in the Afternoon, is Rohmer at his best.
The film follows the bourgeois businessman Frédéric, who claims to be happily married to Hélène yet finds himself inexplicably attracted to an old friend, Chloé. The pair spend afternoons together, talking about things Frédéric feels too shy to share with his wife. Torn between the traditionalism of the family unit and the arrival of a bohemian, sexually liberated woman, Rohmer’s film excellently examines post-May ‘68 France with equal doses of humour, sensitivity and echoes of Hitchcock. Love in the Afternoon is a stunningly shot study on both masculinity and femininity, proving Rohmer to be one of the greatest French filmmakers of the era.
44. Walkabout (Nicolas Roeg, 1971)
After the iconic 1970 film Performance, starring The Rolling Stones’ Mick Jagger and co-directed with Donald Cammell, Nicolas Roeg released his first solo project, Walkabout, in 1971. Loosely based on the 1959 novel of the same name by James Vance Marshall, Roeg’s film stars Jenny Agutter and Roeg’s son, Luc, as two white school children left to fend for themselves in the Australian outback. Soon, they meet an Aboriginal teenage boy, played by David Gulpilil, who helps the pair survive. Walkabout is considered one of the first entries in the Australian New Wave movement, which soon included works such as Peter Weir’s Picnic at Hanging Rock and Gillian Armstrong’s My Brilliant Career.
Roeg described the film as “a simple story about life and being alive, not covered with sophistry but addressing the most basic human themes; birth, death, mutability.” Moreover, the film addresses themes of lost innocence, often using biblical imagery such as the Garden of Eden to portray the destructive changes brought about by Western civilisation and industrialisation, suggesting that we can no longer go back to a simpler time and state of purity. The film was nominated for a Palme d’Or at the Cannes Film Festival, losing to The Go-Between by Joseph Losey.
43. Dog Day Afternoon (Sidney Lumet, 1975)
Al Pacino continued to prove himself to be one of the most talented and sought-after actors of the era when he starred in Sidney Lumet’s Dog Day Afternoon. Alongside the late great John Cazale, the actors play a pair of inexperienced bank robbers who attempt to remain calm despite media and FBI intervention. The film was based on a Life magazine article called ‘The Boys in the Bank’ by P.F Kluge and Thomas Moore, about the 1972 robbery and hostage carried out by John Wojtowicz and Salvatore Naturile.
Dog Day Afternoon remains one of Lumet’s finest films and one of Pacino’s most stunning performances, leading the movie with hysteria and intensity. The film sensitively tackles complex topics with a distinctively anti-authoritarian stance, perfectly capturing the tensions of the era. Lumet’s masterwork was nominated for six Oscars, taking home the award for ‘Best Original Screenplay’.
Discussing the film, which was a box office success, Pacino said, “I thought basically that the most important thing to capture was the human conflict, the human cry, the human need. And to tap that. To try to find that somehow and convey it in this bizarre situation was what we were trying to do.”
42. Nashville (Robert Altman, 1975)
Robert Altman was one of the most influential directors to emerge from the 1970s, releasing some of the era’s most beloved and well-respected works, such as M*A*S*H, McCabe & Mrs. Miller, and 3 Women. With Nashville, Altman created what many have labelled his magnum opus – a humorous musical satire starring an extensive ensemble cast. The film follows a group of country and gospel musicians as they prepare for a gala concert over the course of five days. Featuring David Arkin, Barbara Baxley, Ned Beatty, Karen Black, Ronee Blakley, Timothy Brown, Keith Carradine, and many, many more, Nashville has 24 main characters and several storylines that are brought together by an hour’s worth of musical numbers.
The movie was written by Joan Tewkesbury, who based many of the events on real-life experiences she witnessed as an outsider visiting Nashville and observing the music scene. Nashville oozes originality and comedy, balancing various forms of humour with well-developed character studies. The film went on to win an Academy Award and Golden Globe for ‘Best Original Song’. With 11 nods from the latter ceremony, it still remains their most nominated film to date. Moreover, Nashville was a box-office success, becoming one of the year’s biggest hits, grossing over $10million in the US alone.
41. Throw Away Your Books, Rally in the Streets (Shūji Terayama, 1971)
Not the first title in this list about a young man’s disillusionment with society, this experimental 1971 film from Japanese director Shūji Terayama plays out like a fragmented fever dream. Incorporating stylistic elements from his previous short film/art projects, Throw Away Your Books takes on an episodic structure that tells a very bleak coming-of-age tale.
Trapped in a disintegrating family, the youngest son grows increasingly horrified – and angry – at the contentment he sees around him to simply remain in poor economic conditions and low social status. Fuelled by an adolescent innocence, a youthful energy and a drive to better himself, he manages to temporarily escape the social rut and make a living for himself. After setting out on a journey of improvement, however, it all too quickly gives way to crippling disaffection and hopelessness.
Claw-hammering its way onto the international film circuit, screenings at Rotterdam’s International Festival and the Vienalle won the filmmaker well-deserved acclaim and heralded a singular voice of foreign cinema. Audacious, bold, angry and juvenile in all the best ways, Terayama’s debut feature is charged with a rarely seen sense of righteousness that seeks to grab Japanese society and its obsession with materialism and consumer culture and scream loudly into its face.
40. Soleil O (Med Hondo, 1970)
From French/Mauritian director Med Hondo comes this fierce, angry and rallying political film that rages against racist oppression and the legacy of colonial oppression. Soleil O tells the story of a nameless Black immigrant who, starry-eyed and still full of wonder, travels from West Africa to Paris in search of work, intellectual stimulation and a reconnection with his Gaul ancestors.
Not the only foreign film on this list to use Paris as the exemplifying nexus of culture and frightening ignorance, our hero – referred to in the credits only as the Visitor – quickly finds the French capital to be a place of unbridled xenophobia and hostility. Upon arriving, his presence elicits fear and contempt from the citizens, and soon, he and the other immigrants find themselves with no other recourse than revolution and uprising.
Despite its heavy themes and refusal to shy away from the very real brutality that Soleil O depicts, Hondo still manages to maintain a streak of dark and bitter comedy throughout. Deeply experimental and rallying in its attack on capitalism and white supremacy, this film is a milestone in African cinema. All the more impressive for being his debut, Hondo’s vision is one of an awakening of Black consciousness.
39. The Long Goodbye (Robert Altman, 1973)
In this hazy retelling of Raymond Chandler’s noir classic of the same name, Robert Altman transports the story from 1950s downtown Los Angeles to 1970s Hollywood. Derided at the time by hardcore Chandler fans, the casting of Elliot Gould as the private eye, Philip Marlowe, puts an entirely new spin on the character.
In contrast to the previous brash and macho Marlowe’s, made famous by actors like Humphrey Bogart and Dick Powell, this interpretation is very much a product of its time; Gould’s version of the detective slinks around Tinseltown like a cat, laid-back and mellow, navigating the mystery as if it was a stroll on Venice Beach. The WWII veterans and upper-class dames – the usual Marlowe fare, clients that draw the detective into their conspiracies – are swapped for junkies, hipsters, and Hollywood rejects.
The Long Goodbye seeded DNA that would be reborn 25 years later in the Coen brothers’ The Big Lebowski, which took the hip detective aesthetic and pushed it to the max. Then, when Inherent Vice came out in 2014, director Paul Thomas Anderson cited both as paving the way for his own stoner-noir, demonstrating how Altman’s film, then 40 years old, has left a legacy that continues to inspire filmmakers in the 21st century.
38. Chinatown (Roman Polanski, 1974)
The indelible mark made by Roman Polanski with Chinatown on the noir canon is impressive, especially considering it had 40 years of worthy predecessors behind it. Unlike The Long Goodbye, released only a year before, this private investigator mystery is firmly set in the era that made the genre so famous.
Following Jake Gittes, featuring a performance best by Jack Nicholson, the film leads the audience into a dark and murky conspiracy involving corporate espionage and corruption and depicts a 1930s California plagued by shadowy business tycoons. When private eye Gittes is hired by the wife of an engineer at the LA Department of Water and Power, he becomes embroiled in a web of deception, stolen identity and murder.
By setting the story against the backdrop of commercial disputes over water, in turn, based upon the ‘California water wars’ at the beginning of the 20th century, director Polanski and screenwriter Robert Towne interrogate the idea of land ownership and shed light on the dirty and illicit dealings that happen under the noses of City officials. Widely regarded as one of the greatest films of all time, let alone the 1970s, Chinatown serves as an example of how talented filmmakers can take a well-established genre, with all of its tropes and cliches, and use it to make a movie that both harks back to a classical time of filmmaking and reinvigorates it as something entirely new.
37. The Last Picture Show (Peter Bogdanovich, 1971)
The sophomore feature from critic-turned-director Peter Bogdanovich boasts the first major role from Jeff Bridges and is one of the early examples of an era of director-driven cinema that would come to be known later as ‘New Hollywood’. Following two high-school seniors on the brink of graduation and reaching a defining and pivotal stage in their lives, The Last Picture Show acts as both a coming-of-age drama and a sweeping portrayal of small-town American life.
Set in the early 1950s in the rural and waning town of Anarene, North Texas, Duane Jackson (played by Bridges) and Sonny Crawford (played by Timothy Bottoms) are confronted with the question of what they’re going to do with the rest of their lives. Exploring the complex and colourful relationships and dynamics within the rural community and presenting to us a town that has been neglected by America’s booming industrialisation, The Last Picture Show bravely tackles broad themes whilst always allowing the small, personal stories of the people within Anarene to take centre stage.
Amongst all of this is the build-up to the screening of Howard Hawks’ Red River, which will mark the final showing – the titular ‘last picture show’ – of the local cinema, thus signifying the end of an era and a prompt to move on.
36. The Hourglass Sanatorium (Wojciech Has, 1973)
One of the most surreal, metaphorical and down-right trippy entries to Polish cinema, Wojciech Has’ 1973 film is an adaptation of the 1937 short story collection by Polish writer and painter Bruno Schulz, Sanatorium Under the Sign of the Hourglass.
After taking a run-down train through a bizarre dreamscape, Joseph arrives at the sanatorium, a dilapidated facility which houses his dying father. Upon arrival, he finds that his old man has stopped breathing — but isn’t dead. As if his very presence has ruptured the space-time continuum itself, Joseph finds that the hospital no longer responds to the regular rules of physics, and reality seems to be a malleable, free-flowing concept, like sand in an hourglass.
What follows is a psychedelic odyssey into the very depths of memory, identity and consciousness, and the director bombards the audience with a rich palette of vivid hallucinatory dream sequences and high-concept allegory.
Touching upon the nature of the father-son relationship whilst also hinting at the Holocaust and the collective trauma Poland as a country has inherited since World War II, the film very loosely guides us on a phantasmagoric journey composed equally of dreams and nightmares. Challenging but deeply rewarding, the film is a masterclass in investigating the unknown.
35. Donkey in a Brahmin Village (John Abraham, 1977)
In 1966, Robert Bresson achieved a remarkable feat with Au Hasard Balthazar, creating a moving dramatic work with a donkey as its protagonist. In 1977, John Abraham surpassed Bresson’s magnificent work by using Au Hasard Balthazar’s existential themes about evil and suffering and translating them for the Indian sociopolitical framework, one that had injustice and oppression embedded deep in its core.
One of the most powerful Indian films ever made, Donkey in a Brahmin Village is a scathing indictment of the violent and dangerous structures of casteism that forms the foundation of Indian society. It tells the story of an innocent donkey who faces strict resistance when it is brought to a Brahmin village, exposing the cruelty that humans are capable of when the hatred of their baseless prejudices fuels them.
Like all great works of art that challenge the status quo, Donkey in a Brahmin Village was criticised by the ruling social classes in the country when it was first released. Thankfully, younger generations of film fans rediscovered Abraham’s genius, and now it is considered to be a vital part of the Indian cinematic canon that defined the art form in the 20th century.
34. The Mother and the Whore (Jean Eustache, 1973)
When making your debut feature, it’s already hard to decide on your style, let alone combine all your stylistic influences into one coherent vision that elevates both the substance of your film as well as the visual language. However, it wasn’t that difficult for Jean Eustache, who managed to create a singular masterpiece while making his seminal debut feature, The Mother and the Whore.
Starring Jean-Pierre Léaud in a rivetting film about a complex love triangle, The Mother and the Whore conducts an interesting examination of sexual liberation and love within the context of France during the 1970s. Although some labelled the film as obscene when it was first screened at Cannes, it won the coveted ‘Grand Prix’ while also shaping French cinema’s artistic identity during the decade.
Before he made the film, Eustache was almost about to quit the industry. He told a reporter in 1972: “If I knew what it was that I wanted, I wouldn’t wake up in the morning to make films. I’d do nothing, I’d try to live without doing or producing anything.” Thankfully, the French auteur didn’t give up, and he ended up making one of the most important European works of the decade.
33. F for Fake (Orson Welles, 1973)
Many film fans continue to judge Orson Welles’ genius solely on the basis of Citizen Kane, but doing so is nothing short of a gross injustice. Although Citizen Kane announced the arrival of the auteur to the entire world in a way that had never been seen before, Welles continued to work on his unique directorial style and developed it with each subsequent project. That’s exactly why some believe Welles produced his best work during the latter half of his career.
Within the overall trajectory of his filmography, F for Fake represents an interesting pivotal moment when Welles broke down all preconceived barriers between various genres to create one of the most fascinating essays on the fundamental illusions of the cinematic medium. Raising questions about the complex concept of authorship in the art world, Welles’ 1973 masterpiece proves that he only became a better filmmaker as the years progressed.
According to the film’s chief editor, Welles worked on F for Fake for an entire year with no breaks, not even on the weekends. It’s a labour of love, and it shows, featuring the American auteur’s passion for the medium and his willingness to break all barriers to arrive at something completely original.
32. One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest (Miloš Forman, 1975)
Another seminal masterpiece that asks piercing questions about the oppression inherent in government institutions, it’s almost impossible for Miloš Forman’s 1975 film to be left out of any lists concerning the 1970s. Starring Jack Nicholson as a convicted criminal who claims to be insane in order to escape the harsh prison conditions of high-security facilities, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest paints a detailed picture of mental institutions in America.
Drawing from the monumental groundwork laid down by Frederick Wiseman in Titicut Follies, Forman managed to make his film’s commentary reach wider audiences by using the compelling narrative arcs and the phenomenal acting work of his cast. As a result, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest brought Forman unprecedented fame and success since it ended up winning all five major Academy Awards.
During an interview, Forman once explained his approach to the casting process. He said: “I’d learned long before that it’s better to cast against type in the leading roles and with it in the minor roles. For reasons of economy and clarity, I prefer to give the audience a quick read of secondary characters by casting obvious physical types, but with the principal roles, it’s more engaging to uncover a different personality under the obvious type, to peel away the erroneous expectations, to be surprised by a deeper knowledge of the character.”
31. A Clockwork Orange (Stanley Kubrick, 1971)
Considered to be among the most controversial films ever made, Stanley Kubrick’s 1971 adaptation of Anthony Burgess’ eponymous novel remains an important step forward for psychological thrillers. Methodically recreating the dystopian world presented in Burgess’ book, A Clockwork Orange is about a young delinquent who is subjected to extreme state-sanctioned torture after committing disturbing crimes.
Although Kubrick himself called for the film to be banned after copycat crimes took place which were allegedly inspired by it, A Clockwork Orange is an indispensable historical document that raises important questions about the future. At a time when increasingly authoritarian governments are coming up with new ways to deal with crime at “their source”, it’s essential for us to revisit Kubrick’s film because it compares the brutality of individual crimes with the inescapable punishment enforced by the government.
Burgess, who had been forced to publicly defend his book after Kubrick’s adaptation, also approved of Kubrick’s vision. He said: “I was not quite sure what I was defending – the book that had been called ‘a nasty little shock’ or the film about which Kubrick remained silent. I realised, not for the first time, how little impact even a shocking book can make in comparison with a film. Kubrick’s achievement swallowed mine, whole, and yet I was responsible for what some called its malign influence on the young.”
30. The Conversation (Francis Ford Coppola, 1974)
It’s a crime that The Conversation usually doesn’t get mentioned in the same breath as The Godfather or Apocalypse Now because it’s one of the greatest American thrillers of all time. Starring Gene Hackman as a surveillance expert, Francis Ford Coppola creates an interestingly neurotic air of anxiety and paranoia.
Coppola once revealed that the idea had been floating around in his head for a while. “The idea originated in a conversation between me and Irving Kirshner,” he admitted. “We were talking about espionage, and he said that most people thought the safest way not to be bugged was to walk in a crowd, but he had heard that there were microphones which were capable of picking out specific voices in a crowd. And I thought, Wow, that’s a great motif for a film—and it started there, around 1966. I actually started working on it around 1967, but it was an on-again, off-again project which I was just never able to beat until 1969 when I did a first draft.”
The narrative features Hackman as a man who is deeply paranoid about privacy, especially because it’s his job to invade the privacy of others. When he believes he has recorded details of a potential murder, his entire life turns upside down. In many ways, The Conversation will always be the most technically impressive film Coppola ever made.
29. The Exorcist (William Friedkin, 1973)
The first horror film to be nominated for the coveted ‘Best Picture’ category at the Oscars, William Friedkin managed to transcend the inherent bias against the genre through his 1973 masterpiece The Exorcist. Based on William Peter Blatty’s eponymous novel, it revolves around the strange possession of a young girl.
Conflicted by the widely different solutions offered by religion and medicine, the girl’s mother tries everything at her disposal to help her child, but it becomes apparent that there is a great force of evil at play. Despite the fact that most horror films age terribly, The Exorcist has only strengthened its reputation over the years.
To this day, The Exorcist is routinely cited as the golden standard of the horror genre, not just because of its ability to win critical appreciation while penetrating the mainstream consciousness but also because it demonstrated a highly effective understanding of the distinct frameworks of the genre. Having developed quite a reputation for being Mark Kermode’s favourite film of all time, The Exorcist has transcended the horror world and has now become an integral part of popular culture – mythologised in critical commentaries.
28. Killer of Sheep (Charles Burnett, 1978)
The LA Rebellion movement played a pivotal part in the evolution of American cinema during the latter half of the 20th century, but none of the films associated with it is as crucial as Charles Burnett’s Killer of Sheep. Shot on a budget of around $10,000, it makes a strong case for being the greatest student film ever made.
Burnett’s riveting film examines the sociopolitical conditions of the Black community in Los Angeles, following the life of Stan, who works at an abattoir. Due to the dehumanising nature of his work, Stan grows increasingly detached from his personal life while his psychological constitution is irreversibly affected.
Killer of Sheep also deviated from the highly codified visual language used by Hollywood. Burnett explained: “I was against anything that looked like Hollywood. On Killer of Sheep and My Brother’s Wedding I wanted it to look like I just set the camera up and only shot what I could, almost documentary style. An un-manipulative look to it. That was a conscious attempt to give you that look of ‘reality’.”
27. Mirror (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1975)
Despite the fact that most fans immediately think of popular masterpieces like Stalker and Solaris when they remember the cinema of Andrei Tarkovsky, it can be argued that Mirror is the film that is the most representative of the director’s genius. A painfully personal account of semi-autobiographical experiences, Mirror is nothing short of a miracle.
Structured in a non-linear format, the narrative presents ephemeral vignettes that dance across the screen. Operating like a dream, Mirror weaves together a poignant story about the creation of art and an artist’s confrontation with death. Although it was initially dismissed by critics who couldn’t engage with the complex narrative structure, nobody can deny its all-encompassing influence.
Within the context of Tarkovsky’s filmography, Mirror has also become an increasingly important part because of its ominous value. In many ways, it anticipates Tarkovsky’s own demise since he also passed away after succumbing to a deadly illness that slowly sucked all signs of life from him. Because of that, Mirror almost feels like a death rattle from the mind of a man who saw his own future.
26. Le cercle rouge (Jean-Pierre Melville, 1970)
If you’re a fan of heist films but haven’t seen the films of Jean-Pierre Melville, you’re in for a delightful surprise. Although the French auteur made multiple fascinating entries to the exciting genre, it’s safe to say that Le cercle rouge is the grandest of them all – showcasing Melville’s command over the language of cinema.
Right after making it, Melville called it the most challenging project of his career: “Le cercle rouge is by far the toughest movie I have tackled, because I worked the plot out myself and I didn’t do myself any favours in writing my scenes. I said to myself, ‘This is going to be difficult to shoot, but I don’t care, I want to do it.’ And I did manage to film what I had written. But instead of completing it in fifty days, which would have been normal, it took me sixty-six days.”
Alain Delon delivers the performance of a lifetime as Corey, a reserved ex-con who gets out of prison and dives right back into the lucrative world of crime. While the entire film is bound to keep audiences on the edge of their seats, the almost silent heist sequence (like Rififi) is Melville at the peak of his creative powers.
25. Badlands (Terrence Malick, 1973)
One of the most impressive directorial debuts in the history of American cinema, Badlands introduced the world to the mastery of Terrence Malick. Starring Martin Sheen and Sissy Spacek, this remarkable cinematic achievement is a violent odyssey that is fuelled by the stupidity and courage of youth.
Malick, who started working on the screenplay after going on a road trip, was surprised by the funding process. He revealed: “I wrote and, at the same time, developed a kind of sales kit with slides and video tape of actors, all with a view to presenting investors with something that would look ready to shoot. To my surprise, they didn’t pay too much attention to it; they invested on faith”.
Inspired by real criminal events, Badlands reflects on what it means to be young and in love, but it takes it to a gory extreme – examining the psyche of the young lovers who embark on a murder spree. To this day, many fans insist that Badlands is Malick’s greatest work because of its unforgettable exploration of America’s troubling relationship with violence.
24. Alien (Ridley Scott, 1979)
Among the definitive masterpieces of the 1970s, Ridley Scott’s Alien revolutionised the way in which artists approached the subgenre of sci-fi horror. Starring Sigourney Weaver in the most iconic role of her career, this 1979 gem is fondly remembered by horror fans because of its unparalleled ability to construct an atmosphere of pure terror.
Set on a commercial spaceship, the film focuses on the trials and tribulations of the crew, who are confronted by an unimaginably horrifying extraterrestrial entity. Perfectly utilising the anxiety-inducing claustrophobia and the fundamental fear of human mortality, Alien completely changed the game.
Sigourney Weaver delivered the performance of a lifetime in Alien, which is even more impressive considering the casting was coincidental. “I found Sigourney by word of mouth. Somebody had been told that Siourney was on an off-Broadway stage doing something, that I should meet. And I did,” Scott said. “And there it was, she was perfect. In terms of scale, size, intelligence, her acting is just fantastic. And so it was made for her, really.”
23. Scenes from a Marriage (Ingmar Bergman, 1973)
Originally structured as a miniseries, Scene from a Marriage remains one of Ingmar Bergman’s greatest cinematic achievements. While many cinematic representations of love inevitably exploit the infinite fantasies of audiences, Scenes from a Marriage isn’t interested in that. It follows the crests and troughs of a complex marriage, documenting its slow disintegration.
Based on his own experiences, Bergman’s explorations of love, time and ageing influenced the works of countless dramatists and filmmakers – including prominent names such as Richard Linklater and Woody Allen. Scenes from a Marriage conveys something so essential about the human condition that it’s almost impossible not to be moved by it, even if you’ve never had the experiences depicted on the screen.
Ullmann, who worked with Bergman on some of his greatest films, later confirmed that this was her favourite Bergman project. She said: “It is probably Scenes from a Marriage. We did it all on Fårö Island, in six weeks, as a film and TV series in six parts. I knew everybody, we had so much fun, and Ingmar was happy. We would wake up early, at 4 AM, to work on the text. And I liked what it is about– a woman who grows, who makes choices. She finds out who she is, what she wants, stops making choices for others and makes them for herself.”
22. Day for Night (François Truffaut, 1973)
François Truffaut’s collaborations with Jean-Pierre Léaud are nothing short of spectacular, especially the entries in the magical Antoine Doinel saga. However, Day for Night also ranks particularly high in their respective filmographies. A deeply personal love letter to the craft of filmmaking, Truffaut set out to make a film that “would do Fahrenheit 451 did for books”.
Operating on multiple registers of reality, Day for Night is one of the greatest films ever made about the cinematic medium. It captures the duality of the craft, highlighting how beautiful it can be but also how you have to possess some form of insanity to venture into it. If you’ve ever wanted to make films, this is essential viewing.
Day for Night is one of the most interesting additions to the already extensive corpus of ‘films about films’, ranking alongside the masterpieces of directors like Federico Fellini, Jean-Luc Godard, Woody Allen and Charlie Kaufman. Although it didn’t exactly do what Fahrenheit 451 did for literature, Day for Night is definitely remembered for what it is: a layered and complex love letter to filmmaking.
21. The Ascent (Larisa Shepitko, 1977)
Larisa Shepitko will always be remembered as one of the finest Soviet filmmakers of the 20th century, and The Ascent was undoubtedly her magnum opus. Set during the overwhelmingly bleak conditions of the Second World War, The Ascent follows the journey of two poor Soviet soldiers who set out to search for food.
Based on a 1970 novella by Vasil Bykaŭ, The Ascent expands on Bykaŭ’s work by adapting and magnifying the serious philosophical concerns of the book for the silver screen. “It pinpoints the crucial importance of the spiritual fortitude of the Soviet man in the face of the Nazi military machine,” Shepitko said while speaking about the source material. “I thought it very important the idea that the Soviet people won the war not only by the force of arms, but also by their strength of spirit. By their superior moral makeup. Like Bykov’s story, our film is an attempt to trace the sources of that spiritual fortitude and glorify the exploits of the human spirit.”
Instead of getting a brief respite from their hardships, the two soldiers soon realise that German troops have occupied the territory. Forced to retreat deeper into a hostile landscape, their quest for resources turns into a nightmarish struggle for survival. This was the last film Shepitko made before she tragically passed away in a car accident.
20. One Sings, the Other Doesn’t (Agnès Varda, 1977)
While the French New Wave gathered the most momentum during the 1960s, many of the auteurs associated with the movement continued to produce even more interesting works in later years, and Agnès Varda is certainly no exception. Known for her hybrid frameworks that blur the lines between fiction and documentary filmmaking, Varda’s oeuvre is both formidable and delightful.
In the ‘70s, Varda added another masterpiece to her body of work in the form of One Sings, the Other Doesn’t. At the time, the subject of female friendships was often portrayed in problematic ways, which is why Varda’s 1977 film still feels like a breath of fresh air. It studies the friendship of two women over a period of 14 years, contextualised by the political movements that emerged during the decade.
Handled with care and developed in Varda’s characteristically assured manner, the narrative is given time to breathe as it slowly paints a comprehensive portrait of not just personal relationships but the wider political spectrum.
19. Duvidha (Mani Kaul, 1973)
When people talk about Indian cinema, the powerful Statist Realism championed by filmmakers like Satyajit Ray is often touted as the apotheosis of the country’s cinematic vision. While the Parallel Cinema movement definitely changed Indian cinema forever, there were many interesting undercurrents in the Indian landscape which were influenced by the pioneering experiments of Ritwik Ghatak.
Among the latter, Mani Kaul’s cinema pushed an alternative form of Indian artistic expression that continues to inspire younger generations of artists who are currently working within the relatively obscure domain of the Indian avant-garde. Throughout his career, Kaul created several interesting gems, but it’s safe to say that his 1973 work Duvidha is still seen by many as one of his finest projects.
Inspired by a Rajasthani story, it presents a complex allegory about a ghost who becomes enamoured by a newlywed bride. Frustrated by her husband’s neglect and absence, she falls in love with the illusion conjured up by the ghost, who is simultaneously in touch with and severed from his own desires.
18. Manila in the Claws of Light (Lino Brocka, 1975)
Although Filipino cinema has had its fair share of pioneers throughout the 20th century, it can be argued that Lino Brocka was the single most influential auteur because his works breached the global consciousness. Through his illustrious cinematic output, Brocka tackled various pressing sociopolitical issues that plagued the country while developing a unique artistic identity for Filipino films.
Brocka’s 1975 opus, Manila in the Claws of Light, is frequently referred to as his greatest work, and while that’s up for debate, it’s definitely the most popular one. Using thematic concerns about globalisation and rapid urbanisation that are highly prevalent in Asian cinema, the film tells the story of a young man who travels to the urban hub of Manila in order to track down the woman he fell in love with.
However, his journey is riddled with obstacles and suffering as he confronts the oppressive socioeconomic conditions in the capital city.
In addition to the stunning cinematography by Miguel de Leon, Brocka’s delicate treatment of the material ensured that Manila in the Claws of Light would be a vital classic of Asian cinema for years to come.
17. Belladonna of Sadness (Eiichi Yamamoto, 1973)
Japanese animation has one of the most decorated lineages in the history of the art form, leading the world by incorporating new and exciting techniques. While there have been several definitive Japanese masterpieces throughout the 20th century, very few of them have been as influential as Eiichi Yamamoto’s 1973 film Belladonna of Sadness. Known for its uniquely psychedelic imagery, it is also included within the feminist canon.
Presenting a fascinating allegory about revenge and justice, it tells the story of a young woman who makes a deal with the devil after being violated by multiple men on her wedding night. Unleashing death and destruction on all those who wronged her, Yamamoto animates the manifestation of a woman’s rage unlike anything anybody has ever seen. Through bursts of colour and a delightfully fluid art style, Belladonna of Sadness transcends the medium itself.
It’s a powerful commentary about violence and the exploitative structures of power that govern society, complemented by the erotic subtext and other essential thematic elements that solidify its status as an indispensable social document. Although some have claimed that Yamamoto’s artistic statement feels dated by today’s standards, evidence suggests otherwise since it has been steadily garnering a solid cult following in recent years.
16. Network (Sidney Lumet, 1976)
With each passing day, the landscape of contemporary media becomes increasingly volatile, continuously exploiting sensationalised conclusions and misinformation campaigns. That’s exactly why the vision presented in Sidney Lumet’s haunting 1976 film Network looks more and more like a self-fulfilling prophecy, as the absurd reality of the post-truth era surpasses the biting satire of Paddy Chayefsky’s brilliant screenplay.
Starring Peter Finch in one of the stand-out performances from his illustrious career, Network revolves around a TV anchor named Howard Beale who threatens to kill himself live on the broadcast after discovering that he is going to be fired soon. Despite the expectations of a negative backlash to such an announcement, audiences go crazy for Beale’s outrage politics and hail him as a modern prophet.
Chayefsky’s story demonstrates a deep understanding of media structures, conducting an incisive examination of the way in which media apparatuses manipulate mob psychology instincts and keep audiences sedated.
As these traditions of outrage politics migrate to social media platforms, Network becomes an even more prescient masterpiece that anticipates the irreversible rot of modernity.
15. Jeanne Dielman, 23 quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles (Chantal Akerman, 1975)
Regarded by many as one of the most influential pieces of feminist filmmaking in the history of the medium, Chantal Akerman’s Jeanne Dielman is a remarkable experiment that redefines the cinematic experience. While creating an awe-inspiring, larger-than-life spectacle is definitely an art of its own, there is something to be said for the cinema of the mundane: the kind that reflects the soul-crushing emptiness of modern existence.
Starring Delphine Seyrig as the titular character, Akerman’s magnum opus focuses on the monotonous life of a housewife whose source of income is sex work. Building a poetic rhythm that takes complete control of our senses, Akerman creates a uniquely oppressive cinematic atmosphere that resonates with audiences across cultural barriers.
Often cited as an example of Slow Cinema, Jeanne Dielman was deliberately structured with a crawling pace because Akerman didn’t want to reduce the monotony of the action and the space to a thousand fragments with cuts. The result is nothing short of cinematic sublime, laying the groundwork for future feminist cinema.
14. Harlan County USA (Barbara Kopple, 1976)
Well-known as one of the most innovative documentaries of all time, Barbara Kopple’s 1976 classic movie Harlan County, USA follows the true story of the Brookside Strike, a protest held by over 180 coal miners against the Duke Power Company. Well-deserved of its Academy Award for ‘Best Documentary’, Kopple’s study is a powerful statement in support of workers’ rights.
To quell the rowdy protest, the Duke Power Company employed armed guards to escort those willing to work into the mines, and Kopple isn’t afraid to insert herself in the very middle of the chaos, even getting knocked down and beaten alongside her cameraman at one point. A pertinent study that will be relevant for generations to come, Harlan County, USA is a rousing piece of documentary filmmaking.
The takeaway from Kopple is a revealing film that carefully dissects the psychology of the strikers, discussing their tenacity in the face of great power. It’s an enduring expression of the potency of worker’s unions, well-documenting the plight of the miners with personal stories and touching cinematic sequences that make the most of a left-leaning soundtrack, featuring such classics as Hazel Dickens’ ‘United we stand, divided we fall’ and Florence Reece’s ‘Which Side Are You On?’.
13. Eraserhead (David Lynch, 1977)
The idiosyncratic American filmmaker David Lynch landed in the industry in 1977 with ethereal grace, much like if a UFO had descended onto LA, spreading its curious rays. Indeed, Lynch’s debut, 1977’s Eraserhead, was a film like no other at the time, telling a surreal tale about a young man who tries to survive in a dystopian and industrial version of America where his home life is, too, plagued by his angry girlfriend and mutant child.
Illustrating several hallmarks that would soon be iconic of Lynch’s cinematic style and form, at the time, people weren’t quite sure what to think about Eraserhead, but some filmmakers, like Stanley Kubrick, were immediately fond of the peculiar feat. Shot on a budget of just $100,000, Lynch shows off his resourcefulness with Eraserhead, creating an enigmatic film where the style is substance, and the viewer is allowed to bathe in wonderful surrealism.
Greatly inspired by Federico Fellini, who also toyed with surrealism, the arrival of Lynch in the 1970s was a precursor to the kind of experimental cinema that would flourish in the following decades. Still, none of this would have existed without the remarkable influence of Lynch, who gave substance to his zaniness, instilling an eerie psychological message beneath his debut feature.
12. Stalker (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1979)
When we discuss some of the finest sci-fi movies of all time, the Russian movie maestro Andrei Tarkovsky always comes up in conversation, making two masterpieces in 1979’s Stalker and 1972’s Solaris. We discussed Solaris further down this list, but his later movie, Stalker, is far superior, telling a story that is layered with deep psychological material and radiates mystery through each and every carefully composed frame.
Loosely based on the novel Roadside Picnic by Arkady and Boris Strugatsky, Tarkovsky’s rich and complex movie tells the story of a guide who leads two men through a mysterious area known as ‘The Zone’, which holds a room that grants an individuals’ deepest desires. Playing with the cinematic form, Tarkovsky’s film is a joy to solve, with the director allowing us to get to know the characters and The Zone itself thanks to a slow free-flowing narrative.
Effortless performances from the likes of Alisa Freyndlikh, Aleksandr Kaydanovskiy and Anatoliy Solonitsyn make Stalker feel almost like a piece of strange found-footage non-fiction. Tied into themes about faith, free will and existentialism, Tarkovsky’s film has influenced countless filmmakers over the years, including Gus Van Sant, Steven Soderbergh, Claire Denis, Terrence Malick and Nuri Bilge Ceylan.
11. The Godfather (Francis Ford Coppola, 1972)
American cinema wouldn’t have looked quite the same without the release of Francis Ford Coppola’s iconic 1972 classic The Godfather, a seminal crime movie that would influence the remainder of cinema in the 20th century. Starring Marlon Brando, Al Pacino, James Caan, Diane Keaton and John Cazale, the film tells the story of Don Vito Corleone, who is looking to hand over his leadership at the top of the mafia to one of his sons.
Telling a complex tale that spans many years, Coppola creates a film that feels both vast and intimately tight, allowing Brando’s magnificent performance as Vito to dominate the film, with characters slowly orbiting his gravity with varying degrees of efficacy. Despite the personalities that dominate the screen with brutish masculinity, perhaps the movie’s greatest strength lies in its characterisation of Pacino’s Michael and Keaton’s Kay, with the pair’s relationship flowing with a tragic inevitability.
There’s a reason why, even generations after its release, The Godfather remains at the top of many people’s lists of the greatest movies of all time, with Coppola creating the template of modern gangster flicks, reinventing modern cinema at the very same time with a film that questions the problems inherent within the concept of the American dream, asking whether the fantasy is worth pursuing at all.
10. Celine and Julie Go Boating (Jacques Rivette, 1974)
An undisputed classic of the French New Wave, Jacques Rivette’s Celine and Julie Go Boating is a delightful movie about the spiritual journey of a pair of young women, told with a playful approach to the cinematic form. A masterpiece of cinematic creativity, Rivette, the same mind behind 1969’s L’amour fou, effortlessly draws the viewer into the whimsical world of the titular protagonists.
The film itself tells the story of two women who are mysteriously linked, whose lives are played out in the form of a bizarre melodrama that creates a psychedelic parallel reality. Where the likes of Agnès Varda, Jean-Luc Godard and François Truffaut innovated modern cinema in the 1960s with films like Cleo from 5 to 7, Breathless and Jules and Jim, Rivette continued their efforts with a film that sang from the same hymn sheet whilst adding a punch of colour and a dose of innovate surrealism.
With a postmodern approach, Rivette’s film is a pastiche of classic Hollywood cinema, with scenes of melodrama that speak to the movies of Douglas Sirk and slapstick comedy reminiscent of Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton. Despite being released in 1974, Celine and Julie Go Boating has an excellent grasp of the history of cinema, as well as its own place within contemporary cinema.
Starring Juliet Berto and Dominique Labourier as the two female leads, alongside the likes of Bulle Ogier, Marie-France Pisier, and Barbet Schroeder, Celine and Julie Go Boating is a classic of the late new wave that would go on to inspire countless innovative filmmakers.
9. A River Called Titas (Ritwik Ghatak, 1973)
World cinema thrived throughout the 1970s, with filmmakers across the globe getting the recognition they deserved on an international stage. One such person was the Indian director and screenwriter Ritwik Ghatak, the mind behind such classics as 1957’s Musafir and The Cloud-Capped Star in 1960, who released A River Called Titas in 1973, a mesmerising drama that follows the life of a fisherman on the Titas River in Brahmanbaria, Bangladesh.
Based on the novel of the same name penned by Adwaita Mallabarman, Ghatak’s film became part of film history when it popularised hyperlink cinema, showing off a narrative that featured multiple characters interacting in interlinked stories, a writing device that Robert Altman would later adopt for 1975’s Nashville. Ghatak uses this narrative format to tell a story that bulges with romance and gripping melodrama, creating a passionate film in the process.
On the surface, the narrative may seem somewhat humdrum, but it’s how Ghatak tells the story that unlocks the magic beneath the surface, with one particular marriage scene being made poignant by the director sucking all the sound from the scene aside from the bride’s heavy breath.
Tackling some pretty heavy themes, including murder and suicide, Ghatak tells a generational tale that examines the inner workings of village life, breaking down the internal politics and external pressures of the outside world. By the end, A River Called Titas washes over the viewer with a powerfully haunting tale about human survival that features some excellent performances from the likes of Rosy Samad, Golam Mostafa, Roushan Jamil and Prabir Mitra.
8. The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie (Luis Buñuel, 1972)
Luis Buñuel, the iconic Spanish-Mexican surrealist, made a number of influential films throughout his career as a filmmaker and an artist, helming Los Olvidados in 1950, The Exterminating Angel in 1962 and Belle de Jour in 1967. His 1972 classic The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie might be his most enduring piece of cinema, however, telling a surreal tale about six middle-class people who keep having their group meal interrupted in increasingly bizarre circumstances.
An iconic ‘Eat the Rich’ movie that features food as a key part of its narrative, Buñuel’s film mocks and examines the lives of the guests whilst creating a surprisingly riveting comedy at the very same time. Starring the likes of Fernando Rey, Paul Frankeur, Delphine Seyrig, and Bulle Ogier, Buñuel’s film is a timeless, pertinent movie that parodies the absurdity of modern life with hilarious accuracy.
Starting off with some degree of logical sense, as the film goes on, Buñuel finds great joy in toying with his characters, with the second half focusing on the dreams of the unfortunate dinner guests. Despite the film’s events being utterly bizarre, they are accepted by Buñuel’s characters, creating a space akin to the worlds of David Lynch, where the impossible is made tangible, and the dreamworld intersects with reality.
Winning the Academy Award for ‘Best Foreign Language Film’ whilst also being nominated for ‘Best Adapted Screenplay’, The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie made a considerable impression on a global audience, with Buñuel speaking a truth that many others found it hard to articulate.
7. Taxi Driver (Martin Scorsese, 1976)
There’s no doubt that modern cinema wouldn’t be the same without the influence of the American cinematic master Martin Scorsese. The director of such movies as 1973’s Mean Streets and 1974’s Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore created his finest film of the decade in 1976 with the release of Taxi Driver, a brooding drama about the state of contemporary America that starred who would soon be his regular collaborator, Robert De Niro.
The film itself tells the story of Travis Bickle (De Niro), a veteran with a fragile mental state who drives a taxi around New York and witnesses first-hand the sleaze that has corrupted his city. Penned by Paul Schrader, the screenplay is water-tight, being first and foremost a character study into the mind of a broken individual whose country has essentially failed him and those around him.
A fierce comment against contemporary America, the film pulses with life, largely thanks to the magnificence of De Niro’s lead performance, fueling Bickle with an authentic erraticism, giving the character a sense of unbridled insanity. As a result of this performance, supporting characters played by Harvey Keitel, Jodie Foster and Albert Brooks are allowed to effortlessly thrive.
Inspiring countless filmmakers and stories across the years, Taxi Driver remains a truly powerful piece of cinema that speaks to the state of the contemporary country and the allure of the American dream that promises financial stability and social superiority. To this day, the film is picked apart and analysed, showing off the very best of Scorsese’s meticulous direction and Shrader’s layered screenwriting.
6. Aguirre, Wrath of God (Werner Herzog, 1972)
Having made a name for himself in the documentary space in the early 1970s with such classics as Fata Morgana and Land of Silence and Darkness, Werner Herzog achieved his first true success in the narrative space with the release of Aguirre, Wrath of God in 1972. The first collaboration between the idiosyncratic German filmmaker and the eccentric actor Klaus Kinski, the film tells the story of a Spanish soldier who leads a group of soldiers down the Amazon River in search of El Dorado, the fabled city of gold.
Inspired, in part, by the accounts of Gaspar de Carvajal’s expeditions in the Amazon, the film is a fascinating and methodical insight into the madness of man, specifically of the protagonist, Lope de Aguirre (Kinski). With minimal dialogue and a reserved approach to cinematography, Herzog prefers to frame his drama with a slow and steady pace, contrasting the still naturalism of the surrounding environment with Aguirre’s steadily dwindling mental state.
Despite considerable tension between Herzog and Kinski on set, the fruit of the pair’s labour shows none of the behind-the-scenes scars, with the production being shot on location in the Peruvian rainforest. A passionate investigation of human greed and desire, the film is made by Kinski’s portrayal, playing the titular character like a man possessed, delivering a performance that physically excels.
Under the scorching sun, Aguirre goes insane in his search, and Herzog exposes the unsettling anxieties of the human condition, leaving our character lost under the towering metropolis of trees floating blindly down the river.
5. Barry Lyndon (Stanley Kubrick, 1975)
Well-known as being one of the greatest filmmakers of all time, Stanley Kubrick had made Dr. Strangelove, 2001: A Space Odyssey and A Clockwork Orange by the time he’d gotten around to making Barry Lyndon in 1975. Whilst many are quick to name some of his more cinematically baffling films, his 1975 movie may be his greatest achievement, diverting from his usual narrative interests to bring a spectacular period drama to the silver screen.
It all follows the story of the titular Irish rogue, played by Ryan O’Neal, who assumes the identity of a dead aristocrat in 18th-century England to win the heart of a rich widow. A character study unlike anything Kubrick had created before, Barry Lyndon is a spectacular drama that features an iconic central performance from O’Neal, elevating the performances of the supporting cast that includes the likes of Marisa Berenson, Patrick Magee, Steven Berkoff and Murray Melvin.
As well as a terrific script penned by Kubrick, adapted from the novel The Luck of Barry Lyndon by William Makepeace Thackeray, and an exemplary starring performance, the 1975 classic is well-known for featuring a revolutionary approach to cinematography. Insisting on using natural lighting, with many scenes being merely lit by the flicker of candlelight, Kubrick gave the film a magical glow that extracted the raw beauty and style of 18th-century Ireland.
In addition, the groundbreaking cinematography utilised long double shots with slow zooms and compositions that emulated the paintings of William Hogarth. As a result, the movie was awarded four Academy Awards, including ‘Best Original Song’, ‘Best Costume Design’, ‘Best Art Direction’ and ‘Best Cinematography’. It’s one of Kubrick’s most decorated feature films, and the movie indeed deserves all the plaudits, being a slow, methodical portrait of a fascinating figure.
4. Jaws (Steven Spielberg, 1975)
Some films are so iconic that they coin a phrase as a result of their mere existence, with Steven Spielberg’s influential 1975 classic Jaws popularising the concept of the modern blockbuster thanks to the hundreds of movie lovers who were willing to queue outside the cinema to watch the marine-based horror flick across the world. With the tense car movie Duel and the crime drama The Sugarland Express already under his belt, Spielberg created his best movie to date with the release of Jaws in 1975.
Part drama, part traumatic horror movie, Jaws tells the story of a killer shark who stalks the beach community of the fictional Amity Island in New England, with the local authorities being forced to choose whether to close the beach and solve the problem or run the risk of loss of life. What unfolds is one of Spielberg’s most gripping masterpieces, a film that toys with the very structures of the American dream and the follies of capitalism.
Roy Scheider is the protagonist, playing police Chief Martin Brody, an all-American hero who seeks justice and equality over greed, with the character being joined by Robert Shaw’s Maverick fisherman Quint and Richard Dreyfuss’s oceanographer Matt Hooper. Together, they create an unlikely trio of heroes that reflect seemingly every aspect of the national psyche, heading out into the dangerous blue to tackle a lesser-spotted aquatic behemoth.
Featuring revolutionary practical effects and one of the most iconic movie monsters ever made, Spielberg helped write the template for how every creature feature should be made. By only showing rare glimpses of the shark, popping up for sudden moments of visceral violence, Spielberg creates a simmering fear of the unknown, where the beast may lurk anywhere and everywhere, constantly ready to attack.
3. Touki Bouki (Djibril Diop Mambéty, 1973)
Often, it is Hollywood and the realms of European and Asian cinema that are given the greatest focus when it comes to film criticism, with African cinema too regularly being sidelined. Yet, the 1973 classic Touki Bouki is one of the few African movies to have been given the credit it deserves, with Djibril Diop Mambéty’s Senegalese classic being a quiet and intricate piece of localised drama.
Screened at the Cannes Film Festival in 1973, Mambéty’s film tells the story of Mory (Magaye Niang), a cow herder and Anta (Myriam Niang), a student, attempting to break free from their situation of circumstance. Steadily raising petty cash in order to save to go to Paris and leave their old lives behind, the film is a pertinent study of contemporary Senegal, which boasts an important narrative as well as a revolutionary approach to filmmaking.
Influenced by French New Wave filmmaking, Touki Bouki is equally revolutionary in style and tone, setting a new standard for camera and sound work in African cinema with a refreshing, frenetic pace. Still, whilst this may sound as if Mambéty has borrowed entirely from world cinema, much is also influenced by African filmmaking, with the director creating a postmodern movie that fuses both the past and present of cinema.
As a statement of identity, Touki Bouki is a masterpiece of the 1970s that would open up African cinema to a wider audience, presenting an example of a filmmaker restricted by budget and resources who still managed to create something of great cultural significance.
2. Apocalypse Now (Francis Ford Coppola, 1979)
How does one translate the tortuous horrors of the Vietnam War? Oliver Stone’s first-hand account in 1986’s Platoon does a pretty great job, as does Stanley Kubrick’s visceral 1987 movie Full Metal Jacket, but Francis Ford Coppola approached the subject from a new existential point of view. Seeing the event as a catastrophic failure of human dignity and honour, Coppola’s film took audiences into the heart of darkness.
The story follows the journey of Martin Sheen’s Captain Benjamin L. Willard, a soldier tasked with assassinating a rogue Colonel who has fled into the jungle and pronounced himself a God amongst a local tribe. The chaos is captured in the backdrop of America’s wild conflict with the Vietnamese forces, with Coppola putting an unprecedented amount of time, effort and funds into making the setting feel as authentic as possible.
Apocalypse Now succeeds on several fronts, but it is the contrast between the bombastic, even exciting, action scenes where American forces bomb a small village with fire, fury and the sound of Richard Wagner’s ‘Flight of the Valkyries’ and the central theme of internal human despair where the film truly excels. This existential terror that fuels the film is elevated by the marvellous performance of Marlon Brando as the insane Colonel Walter E. Kurtz.
“The horror, the horror,” Kurtz utters upon his final breath, coming to terms with the futility of war and the folly of man, with Brando’s character perfectly embodying the spirit of a film that feels monolithic in its cinematic importance. Much praise is heaped on Brando, but it is Coppola who somehow manages to tie the project together, with his co-written script making for a riveting American masterpiece.
1. A Woman Under the Influence (John Cassavetes, 1974)
Our greatest film of the 1970s has to go to John Cassavetes’ 1974 drama A Woman Under the Influence, starring his wife/frequent collaborator Gena Rowlands and Peter Falk, famously of Columbo, who had previously appeared in Cassavetes’ Husbands. In fact, Peter Falk invested half a million dollars into the movie when his friend Cassavetes could not find studio financing.
Rowlands plays Mabel Longhetti in this gorgeous masterpiece, a housewife and mother who looks to be on the persistent verge of a mental breakdown. Her husband Nick (Falk) does little to help her condition, though; he agrees to work late, having promised Mabel they will spend a night together, brings all his work colleagues home for dinner the following day and then says he is ashamed of his “crazy” wife when she serves their food and is ridiculously pleasant to them, if a little odd.
The entire movie is a careful and intense examination of the minutiae of pressures that women faced in the 1970s, and both Rowlands and Falk deliver performances of genuine captivation. A Woman Under the Influence is a harrowing watch indeed; it’s undoubtedly sad and moving and can border on the domestically terrifying at times.
This is a descent into madness borne not of any deeper, underlying psychological issue but of the regular domestic and societal pressures of the times. In that light, Cassavetes’ film is a stroke of genius, and he brings out the best in his actors at all times, so much so that it is quite often that one forgets they are watching a fictional narrative and not a documentary.
Perhaps the beauty of A Woman Under the Influence comes from the fact that Cassavetes struggled to finance the film, so he had to use a real house to shoot in, and Rowlands was responsible for her own hair and makeup, and that’s the air of reality hangs so thick in the air and why Rowlands seems to truly embody Mabel Longhetti in arguably her greatest ever performance. This is a film you simply must watch.
