Ten Films to Lead Geek Teens to Greatness
I propose the following thesis: The geek lifestyle is a bridge, and not a destination. Allow me to elucidate:
I was recently, as is my want, discussing films with a friend. For the purposes of this essay, I shall call him Norman. Norman is an upbeat, tattooed young cove of about 21. He loves movies, and has seen all of the good geek standbys. He talked about “Army of Darkness,” “The Human Centipede,” and mentioned that he really loves old horror movies like “A Nightmare on Elm Street.” I intentionally failed to mention the fact that I was alive in 1984. I mentioned some recent films that I had really liked (“Rango” came up, and I mentioned my eagerness to see “Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives”). It was then that he quickly demanded a list from me. He wanted to know my ten favorite movies of all time…
Now, I was born in 1978. I’m 32 years old as of this writing. I have been watching movies voraciously for most of my life, and I have been writing about them in some capacity (be in college newspaper, local rag, or online ‘blog) since 1996. I have seen thousands of films in my day. When I was 21, I probably could have given you a list of my ten favorite movies, but now I don’t think I have that talent anymore. At some point along the way, I lost my drive to stringently catalog the films I had seen in my mind. I no longer needed to adhere so closely to some immutable “greats.” I didn’t need to clump a group of ten together, and leave it there, untouched and untouchable, to act as a guidepost for my identity.
There is a tendency, I remember, in one’s geeky teen years, to not only collect the things you find great, but closely merge your identity with them. As a teen, I felt there was no better movie than “Army of Darkness.” It was an immutable fact. It was at the top. I quoted it relentlessly. As the years passed, though, and as I was exposed to more and more movies, I began to see “Army” as a great film, one that I will always feel nostalgia for, and will always enjoy watching, but one that would eventually be joined by good company. There was no longer a “top-10” list in my mind. There grew, in its place, a cloud of great films that were no longer ranked, but all generally great in their own rights.
As geeks, we tend to over-categorize our beloved movies. There’s seems to be, I have observed, an unwritten hierarchy of films in the geek mind. This is not a bad thing, as the geek experience has led many thousands of teenagers into sublime genre glory. The concept of The Geek has brought to the mainstream every single one of your favorite movies. “Star Wars,” “Evil Dead 2,” “The Dark Crystal,” “Terminator 2.” They’re all part of the geek cloud. But too many kids, I feel, as they reach their 20s, begin to stagnate. They have reached the geek level, and have indeed become open to all kinds of freaky genre films, but they have closed themselves off to reaching higher. They haven’t traversed those final few steps to The Greats. Too many teenagers have, I feel, reached a place where they can worship Peter Jackson, and then stopped looking for new things to enlighten them.
As a result, we have a generation can can be sat in front of a great film like “2001: A Space Odyssey” and kind of snort at it. We have all had that conversation with that teenager who has refused to watch anything before the year of their birth. They will see nothing in black & white, nothing in a foreign language, and silent films are way out of bounds.
It is our instinct, as their impromptu, self-appointed film teachers, to sit them in front of a great film, just so they’re exposed to something beyond “The Big Lebowski.” Sadly, in such a teaching exercise, we tend to go too far. You can’t sit down an uninitiated teenager in front of “L’Avventura” or “Breathless” and expect them to love it. “Eraserhead” is not a film for someone who’s only into “Battlestar Galactica.” It takes many years of appreciation to really see what Ozu was doing; he’s not going to be appreciated by someone who just discovered “Holy Grail.”
Here then, in addition to this little rambling essay, I propose ten films for the uninitiated. These are films that you can show to teenagers with relative confidence that they will love them, but will also, perhaps, open up their worlds to stuff beyond what they’re used to. These are gateway films. Films that will turn a run-of-the-mill teenage geek into a nascent lover of all great film. A True Geek. An expert.
“12 Angry Men”
1957, dir. Sidney Lumet
Twelve unnamed jurors, all played by stellar character actors, spend the entire film in one room, deliberating the case of a teenage boy who is poised to be executed for committing murder. We do not see the case, we do not see the trial. We only hear the 12 jurors’ reactions to what has been presented in court. At the film’s outset, 11 vote guilty, and one, resolute and doubting holdout (Henry Fonda) votes not guilty. By the film’s end, we see who has changed their mind and why. This is a film that, despite (or perhaps because of) its single setting and bloody-minded tenacity, draws in the most casual observer. It’s a film about crime, about pride, about ego, about the subtle interplay of conflicting personalities.
But, more than that, it’s singular and linear and intense. It’s so streamlined that it becomes easy to consume. It’s a film that was shown to my 7th grade class back in the day, and one that all of my fellow 12-year-olds could get behind (well, except for that one kid who fell asleep). If the thought of a black-and-white film, set in one room, driven entirely by dialogue sounds alien to you, then I implore you watch “12 Angry Men.” It’ll get you.
“The Man Who Laughs”
1928, dir. Paul Leni
Silent films are a tough sell to kids raised on talkies. Many people find the grainy look, the overacting, and the melodramatic storylines to be alienating. And while something like say, “Birth of a Nation” is an excellent and controversial film, full of revolutionary film techniques and debatable politics, it’s a difficult one to start with. In it’s stead, might I recommend the fantastic fable of Paul Leni’s “The Man Who Laughs.” This is a fantasy melodrama that takes place in an alternate past, where pirates regularly maraud, and scarred children grow up to be circus stars. It stars Conrad Veidt as Gwynplaine, who, as a child, has a smile permanently carved onto his face. It’s clear to see that the makeup was the central inspiration for The Joker in the Batman comics.
Gwynplaine grows up to be a circus star, and has secured the love of the beatific and blind Dea, although he is drawn to the lusty advances of the freak-loving Duchess Josiana. This is a film that reaches a level of dramatic ecstasy rarely seen in sound films, but still manages to keep the viewer within arms reach through its gorgeous visuals, wicked characters, and strange settings.
“Stray Dog”
1949, dir. Akira Kurosawa
It’s not hard to get teenagers into Japanese animated films, but it may be a struggle to get them to watch some classic Japanese live-action films. Rather than stick with the obvious “Seven Samurai” (which you should see), I will opt to recommend Kurosawa’s earlier cop drama “Stray Dog,” about a cop (Toshiro Mifune) spending a few sweltering days trying to locate his missing gun (called a “stray dog). Kurosawa may be best known for his samurai dramas, so it’s easy to forget that he was just as adept at the seedy underbelly of modern cities.
Yes, the film is a stellar character drama, full of mounting tensions and increasing shame, but I’d rather sell it on its crime elements, and its steadily increasing investigation. It’s an easy-to-follow story with some great exposure to the dirtier side of 1940s Japan. If you’re into anime, now that there is a great filmmaking tradition behind it, and I recommend that you start with “Stray Dog.”
“Rififi”
1955, dir. Jules Dassin
And if you like crime flicks, why not dip your toe in the vast world of French noir? There are scads of truly excellent French heist capers in the world, all of which are worth a look. For the purposes of this article, I will focus on the 1955 thriller “Rififi.” “Rififi” is about a cleverly pulled-off heist, and the subsequent fall from grace of the criminals. What’s notable about “Rififi,” though is it’s clever, 30-minute-long, dialogue-free heist scene in the middle, where they break into an apartment and… well, I’ll let you watch to find out. The heist itself, though, is hypnotic, and proves that you need not speed and screaming to make a scene exciting.
And, if you’re down with “Rififi,” go a step further, and checkout some of the films of Jean-Pierre Melville. Start with “Bob le Flambeur,” work your way through “Le Samourai,” and land on “Le Cercle Rouge.” find out where the famous gangster tropes all came from, and how they still stand the test of time. There is something kind of fun and personable about all these films. They may have driven crime plots, but they also feature some strangely effervescent characters. See how a real heist oughtta be pulled off.
“Rear Window”
1954, dir. Alfred Hitchcock
Alfred Hitchcock has a daunting body of work, and I can see how teens may be scared off. The tendency with film teachers is to start with his stylish and psychologically complex “Vertigo,” but I have seen too many people become soured by “Vertigo” to start there. Even some hardcore horror fans may be turned off by the overly clever plotting in “Psycho,” so I turn instead to 1954’s “Rear Window” as a means of introducing the master of suspense to people.
This is a film that is insular in its premise, and intriguing in its dramatic velocity. A man (James Stewart), recovering from a broken leg, has nothing better to do with his time than spy on his neighbors through his back window. Across his courtyard, he espies his neighbor (Raymond Burr) doing… something… something suspicious. He is helpless to change the events happening in front of him. I will not harp on the voyeuristic qualities of cinema here, but I will say that “Rear Window” is gloriously intense, and unbelievably terse. So-called “thrillers” these days are often lacking in tension. See what happens when it’s done correctly.
“Top Hat”
1935, dir. Mark Sandrich
Movie musicals, these days, seem to be dominated by juvenile and bland style exercises that barely register as films. While I will defend “Step Up 3D,” I can’t get behind films like “High School Musical 3,” “Nine” and “Chicago.” They have no joy. No brightness. No hard work and dancing virtuosity that once marked the genre. For that, you must go back, my kitties. Go back to the 1930s, when Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers were setting the screen on fire with their talent and unbeatable moves.
Of the Astaire-Rogers films, I would start with “Top Hat,” a cute little Depression-era film about rich people and mistaken identity. The story is a trifle, of course, but it’s fun and compelling, and the dancing, oh the dancing, it’s so very, very beautiful. Just watch up to the “Fancy Free” number, where Fred Astaire accidentally awakens Ginger rogers, sleeping on the floor below. He ends up sprinkling sand on the floor, and slow dances her back to sleep again. If you’re not hooked by then, then you have no heart.
“Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!”
1965, dir. Russ Meyer
I feel that this shouldn’t need hyping, as it’s full of violence, fights, loud cars, fast women, and several pairs of massive, massive breasts. But, oddly, the b-films of ages past seem to get the short end of the stick in many people’s imaginations. Know, hen, that Russ Meyer was making some of the best exploitation movies generations before you managed to sneak limp pseudo-sexy retreads on Cinemax. “Faster, Pussycat!” manages to be sexy, tough, weird, angry, and awesome all at once.
It follows the exploits of a trio of biker chicks (led by the recently late Tura Satana), and their run-ins with the various lecherous males in their paths. Some they want to seduce. Most they want to destroy. This is a film with a lurid story, leather clothing, and more attitude than any filmmaker these days can ever hope to muster. There was a time when action films were less about mindless movement, and more about actual ass-kicking. Why not start down that path with some of the best kick-ass chicks in moviedom?
“The Changeling”
1980, dir. Peter Medak
If you were born in the 1990s, and you’ve seen little before the year you were born, and you’re interested in horror, let me start you down the path to the past with this little creep-fest from 1980. “The Changeling” stars George C. Scott as a man staying in an historical mansion. Of course, he soon learns that the house might be haunted. Rather than take the haunting for granted, though (as so many haunted house pictures do), we see him slowly and methodically uncovering just how far the haunting extends, and just how it works. He is a practical man, and watching him snoop around corners and discovering creepy stuff is a terrifying experience.
I feel sorry for a lot of young horror fans, who were forced to grow up on paltry remakes and uncreative torture porn. They never had the pleasure of being truly frightened in the dark by old fashioned fears. To them, I recommend “The Changeling.” And then continue to go back. Start in the 1980s, when the slashers reigned, and head into the 1970s, when existential dread was the word of the day. Then keep going. See “The Haunting.” See “Cat People,” and also see…
“The Tingler”
1959, dir. William Castle
If you want an endlessly enjoyable corny horror flick, William Castle is your man. He was a schlockmeister of the highest order. His films were all glib and weird and kinda fun. He was the man who first understood that a good ad campaign could trump any quality in cinema. It was from this attitude that he invented infamous gimmicks like “Emergo” (a skeleton emerges from the screen, or special filters that allowed you to see hidden ghosts in “13 Ghosts.” For “The Tingler,” Castle notoriously hooked up electrical buzzers to random seats throughout the theater, giving innocent theater viewers a little “buzz” at appropriate moments.
“The Tingler” is about a doctor (Vincent Price) who is doing experiments in fear. He seems to want to find the biological source of the fear response, and is willing to inject himself with LSD (yes, LSD) to get it. It turns out that fear manifests itself as a creepy bug monster that grown on your spine. Soon it will be loose in the theater. Scream. Scream for your life. Horror, it turns out, can be fun too.
“Richard III”
1995, dir. Richard Loncraine
Shakespeare and film has always been a comfortable marriage, but still one that is seen more as a classroom exercise than an actual cinematic joy. Rather than start you with the penny arcade nightmare of Julie Taymor’s “Titus,” or Kenneth Branagh’s truly majestic “Hamlet,” might I introduce you to Sir Ian McKellan playing the mutated despot Richard III? Here is a film with a great cast (Robert Downy, Jr. shows up at one point), and an interesting way of approaching an ancient story, but still makes it quick and exciting and violent. McKellan chews scenery with glee as he limbers about the screen, offing his competitors and abusing animals.
Many students have said they have trouble with Shakespeare’s language. Here’s a film that allows you to understand not just the story of “Richard III,” but the actual words and poetry. This is not a patronizing, jejune style exercise like “Romeo + Juliet.” This is a poetic adaptation of a classic play.
Now that you’ve seen these ten, get back to me. I have dozens more. Perhaps soon, you’ll be on the path through mere geekdom, and ready to enter the realm of the Master Geek. The film lover. The true cineaste. The person who can cite Howard Hawks, John Ford, Yasujiro Ozu, Ingmar Bergman, Werner Herzog, Jean-Luc Godard, Marcel Carne, Jean Renoir, Sam Fuller, Herschel Gordon Lewis, Billy Wilder, Martin Scorsese, Ernst Lubitsch. You are ready for the Greats.
Witney Seibold is a film lover and sometime pretentious snot living in Los Angeles with his wife and his video collection. He maintains a ‘blog, Three Cheers for Darkened Years! and is the occasional co-host of The B-Movies Podcast over at Crave Online. If you want some more film recommendations, just list what you like, and Witney will be happy to give you some new things to see.
