There are too many films to see. My DVR is packed to the brim (granted, Golden Girls reruns are somewhat to blame for that), and I’ve only been to the theater to see a new movie twice all year. So going back to revisit movies I’ve already seen seems completely out of the question. Some movies, though, not only deserve re-watching, but demand it. Whether it be due to a confusing plot, to revise my initial reaction, or just to peel back all the layers a film has to offer, there are several films I love that require multiple viewings. Here are some of them.
I will try to avoid obvious spoilers, but still, beware.
Chinatown (1974)
This, along with another movie on this list, are two of the finest examples of the neo-noir genre, where the stories and aesthetic of film noir were twisted with more modern sensibilities. Chinatown is expertly plotted, with a deceptively complex scheme inv0lving stolen water in Los Angeles that distracts from a more sinister secret. The first time I saw this, I was trying so hard to follow the convoluted (in a good way) plot that I didn’t pick up on John Huston’s amazing supporting performance, and Faye Dunaway’s performance gains extra resonance after you know her character’s true motivations. The moral decay evident in the city’s history is echoed in the twisted personal issues perfectly, but a second viewing is needed to pick up all of the nuances.
Citizen Kane (1941)
I know it’s cliched and unoriginal and obvious, but I eventually had to admit to myself that Citizen Kane is my favorite movie. Every single time I watch it, I find something brand new to appreciate. You can be well aware of the now-famous “twist”, but without seeing the movie, it’s completely meaningless. This story of a newspaper tycoon, told through interviews with his closest confidants and friends after his death, always has something new for me to discover every time I return to it. At varying times, I’ve picked up on the still-striking (and influential) visual style and the use of camera placement and movement as a storytelling device, or the complex and three-dimensional characterizations and performances, or the intricate jigsaw-puzzle of a plot, or the innovative editing. What I am most impressed with, though, is how apt, and prescient, a metaphor for America Charles Foster Kane’s story is. Rejecting the power that begot it, and amassing wealth and stature to wield for seemingly altruistic reasons, in support of liberty and equality and other virtues, but then losing site of those motivations and simply using its power to amass more of the same, still pining for those glory days when our values were pure and truly meant something. And all the brainchild of a 26-year-old Orson Welles.
L. A. Confidential (1997)
The other modern noir on this list, L. A. Confidential doesn’t hide nearly the depth and pathos as Chinatown, but the mystery is twice as intricate and byzantine. A tale of drugs and prostitution beneath the sheen of Hollywood glitz, told from the point of view of three Los Angeles detectives, I rewatch it so that I can focus on Russell Crowe and Guy Pearce’s incredible performances as extremely flawed men trying to police an even more corrupt city. Both this film and Chinatown deal with the birth of modern L. A., how it built its foundation on theft and shady dealings, and what it means to maintain a sense of justice and morality in a society built on sin and deceit.
Memento (2000)/ The Prestige (2006)
Both movies have intricate plots with convoluted time-lines and structure, both written by the brother team of Jonathan and Christopher Nolan, both directed by Christopher, both about men driven by guilt and obsession to make moral compromises, these are still two very different movies. Memento is a modern detective story about a man with short-term amnesia trying to find his wife’s killer, told in reverse order. The movie beginning with the protagonist standing over a dead body, and the film going back step by step to reveal the events that led him to that point. The structure forces us into his shoes, not knowing exactly what came before, keeping us just as unaware and confused as he is in each scene, eventually making us complicit in many of the choices that he makes. The Prestige is a period piece about the rivalry between two magicians at a time when science was creating real wonders. It also has a jumbled time line, and pulls the rug out from under the audience several times. It also has possibly the greatest casting decision of all time, with David Bowie playing scientist Nicola Tesla. To fully comprehend the weight of the choices that the characters in these movies make, they must be viewed many, many times, when the whole puzzle is more fully understood, and we can approach the stories from a distance. (I reserve the right to add Inception to this list after I’ve seen it.)
(I also just realized that three movies staring Guy Pearce have now popped up in my postings, once before, and twice here. I’ve never considered him one of my favorite actors, but may need to rethink that, since I list the only three movies I can think of him appearing in as some of my favorites. It may actually be a mark of how great an actor he is that I never think of him when I think of those movies. I’ll need to think on this.)
Primer (2004)
This is the least expensive science fiction film ever, with almost none of its money spent on special effects. The majority of the budget, in fact, was spent on the actual film used. This movie isn’t science fiction because of intricately designed extraterrestrials or space crafts, but simply because of its ideas. The fact that it’s so home-made, so bare bones, makes it feel so real. Two engineers, moonlighting in one of their own garages, hoping to develop something that they can patent and make enough to quit their humdrum day jobs, stumble upon what could potentially be time travel. That is all of the plot that I’m going to give away, since the way the movie unspools its tangled threads is most of the fun. We watch how they deal with the possibilities and costs of their discovery, both human and moral, and I have many more viewings left before I can appreciate the full ramifications of all of their decisions. I still don’t know what I would do given the potential power these characters wield, or what I would do in the tangled situations they end up in, but their decisions are presented in a very real, human way, and I completely understand every choice they make, even if I don’t agree with it. At least, I think I do. I’m still trying to figure this movie out.
The Royal Tenenbaums (2001)
Unlike many of the films on this list, the plot is easy enough to follow. I keep coming back to it, though, because of how dense and fully realized a world it is. The art direction is incredible, with each set or costume or character history or montage designed down to every minuscule detail. There is a room with wallpaper painted with scenes from the characters’ pasts that we never even learn about. Every time I watch this, a new treasure is there to await me, like the little Monopoly house hanging from the light string in the game closet, or characters who are always seen in red track suits change to black ones for a funeral. I could watch the movie on mute (even though it has plenty of treats for the ears) and be fully content. This was the first movie where I fully realized what film could be, and how all the pieces could come together to present a story that isn’t possible in other mediums. I love returning to discover new aspects of their world, to both escape and better understand our own.
Starship Troopers (1997)
This movie’s plot is pretty straight forward, but its intentions and philosophies are pretty hard to pin down. Or they were for me, at least, at the tender age of 13, when i first saw this movie. It’s one of the best examples of me seeing a movie multiple times, but different screenings seemed like a completely different films. What I (and many others) first saw as a slam-bang sci-fi actioner reveals itself to be a sharp, thoughtful critique of the consequences of militarism and nationalism. It’s subtle, too, because the movie seems to completely take the side of fascism, in the guise of an über-militaristic society on Earth waging a war against a distant race of giant insects. I first loved the movie, because it had explosions, space ships, and bare breasts. As I aged, to become a very mature (and pretentiously liberal) 18 year old, I hated the piece of crap. The script was cliched, the actors beautiful but shallow, giving performances that could be dubbed as hackneyed, at best. I later realized that this was all intentional, and completely disingenuous. It was a retread of WWII-era pro-war propaganda films, except this time, the enemy was completely inhuman (giant killer bugs), but innocent victims of unwarranted aggression, with the fascist human society played as the movie’s “heroes”. I realize now that this is one of the best satires of the past quarter century, and a great unsung movie, in no small part because it doesn’t hold the audience’s hand but expects you to figure out who the villains are for yourself. But any movie that ends with Neil Patrick Harris dressed as a member of the Gestapo is streets ahead in my book.
So these are some of my favorite movies that improve the more you return to them. Some are fairly universal in their need for revisiting (Primer) while some are fairly personal (Starship Troopers, Citizen Kane). What movies keep begging for you to come back, and keep improving when you do?
Related Posts:
Evan Mather lives just outside of Chicago and is a full-time student with hopes to eventually earn his Masters in Library Science. He spends his limited free time with his wife and cats, subjecting them to his cinematic, musical, literary and culinary interests. Sometimes this is a good thing, and sometimes it is not.
Dude, I didn’t know you had seen Primer. One of my all time favorites. I definitely need to rewatch Starship Troopers (I admit the reason I wanted to see it the first time was for the SFX, I think they still hold up pretty well), and I have never seen the Prestige . . .
“The Big Lebowski” and “Fargo” come to mind immediately… the first one isn’t nearly as funny until you’ve seen it at least twice, and the second is so jarringly muted and bizarre that — for me, at least, watching it when I did and having no earthly idea that it was supposed to be funny — it takes another viewing or two to really understand the humor, as well as the “moral,” if one can call it that.
And I have this overwhelming urge to rewatch “Syriana.” Does that make me a bad person?
Dan – next time we have more than 4 hours to hang out, we’ll do a marathon of Starship Troopers and the Prestige. And we’ll hash out Primer.
R. – I completely agree with your assessments of Lebowski and Fargo. I could have followed my Nolan section up with a Coen Brothers section easily.
And having an overwhelming urge to rewatch a movie never makes you a bad person. Unless that movie is “Good Luck Chuck.”
Side Note: Now that I’ve seen Inception, I can officially say it fits perfectly into this category with Nolan’s other works. Insomnia was that man’s last straightforward movie.