Films of 2011 Part 3: 80-71

And it's a very merry Hanukkah everybody. Here is my present to you: the third instalment of my exhilarating countdown.

*Pauses to absorb riotous cheers, women throwing underwear, etc.*

#80. Blazing Saddles (1974, Mel Brooks)

Now I love a good Western, and I love a good spoof, so naturally I should expect to love the combination of the two? Yes and no. As with all of Mel Brooks' work, at times the silliness factor here becomes a bit self-conscious, where the actors are too aware of having to overplay everything. But there are plenty of laughs, and the final showdown sequence is quite brilliant. I feel like all spoof films need the mock-gravitas of a Leslie Nielsen (ideally the Leslie Nielsen) in order to work on every level.

#79. The Major & the Minor (1942, Billy Wilder)

Ah, accidental pedophilia. Such a rich font of comedy potential. Seriously though, this borderline-creepy screwball comedy about an out-of-pocket working girl disguising herself as a schoolgirl to ride the train half-fare would probably not work without Billy Wilder at the helm. He manages to extract all the humour from the scenario without shying away from the troubled premise. Ginger Rogers is almost believable in both personas but there's still a bit of disbelief in the idea that nobody - from Ray Milland's titular major to the boys at his military academy - would notice that something was seriously afoot.

#78. Carnage (2011, Roman Polanski)

Another film I think hasn't yet graced our shores but one I will recommend when appropriate. Two pairs of parents meet in an apartment to have a frank and open discussion about a schoolyard spat involving their two sons. Basically Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? ensues without the same level of absurdist dialogue. With such a claustrophobic setting it's essential for the actors to carry the film, but when you're looking at Kate Winslet, John C Reilly (in his second 'hapless husband' role this year) and Jodie Foster you're in good hands. The great Christoph Waltz, however, really takes it to another level, and his smarmy, smartphone-obsessed lawyer is the shining star here.

#77. Nights of Cabiria (Le Notti di Cabiria, 1957, Federico Fellini)

Another of my top 250 catch-up, I went into this one a bit apprehensive since I'm not the biggest Fellini fan. To my surprise I mostly enjoyed this one, with the sassy mini-dynamo Giulietta Masina adding heart and soul to yet another largely incoherent Fellini fantasy. I was on the verge of believing this could have been an exception to his 'carnivalesque' oeuvre (he says with a very pretentious tip of the cap to Bakhtin) with some semblance of realism entering the mix towards the end... but then, oh the final sequence. It even has a carnival in it for no reason.

#76. The Best Years of our Lives (1946, William Wyler)

Another in my top 250 catch-up which coincides with an ongoing 'maybe I should watch all the Best Picture Oscar winners' project, this somewhat depressing film deals with three veterans of WWII (one with hooks for hands) who all return to the same small town after the conflict, and their struggles to reintegrate into 'normal' life. It's got a largely spirited message but the characters at times seemed so flawed that I didn't quite buy the ambivalence they were supposed to be feeling. It might be more an interesting historical statement now than a perfect film, but it's well put together and worth a look.

#75. American Psycho (2000, Mary Harron)

This is one of very few instances where I've read and enjoyed the book before encountering the film, so my main apprehension going in was that half the book was completely unfilmable. Fortunately Mary Harron struck a decent balance, not shying away from the shock factor while omitting Easton Ellis' more electrifying sequences (plenty of in-puns here for fans of the book). The film dwells more on 80s excess in general than on Pat Bateman as a figurehead for the culture, but the satire is very nicely toned, and the business card sequence is one of the most brilliantly hilarious I've seen this year.

#74. Crimes & Misdemeanors (1989, Woody Allen)

Oh dear, I have a feeling I may have to mention Anjelica Huston again. There, I've done it. This was classic Woody Allen territory, with flawed characters, both jaded and unrequited romance, a delightfully pretentious git played by Alan Alda, and a central theme of trespass and its various consequences. It's hard to cover such an ensemble piece in a few sentences, but suffice to say that this film and its excellent cast did not disappoint.

#73. My Cousin Vinny (1992, Jonathan Lynn)

I was quite surprised to find out after watching this that it was directed by Jonathan Lynn (of Yes, Minister fame), but at the same time it does carry similar hallmarks of hapless characters comically struggling out of their depth. Joe Pesci is the cocky but infelicitous New York lawyer called in to defend his cousin and his friend who are wrongly accused of murder in the deep south. Marisa Tomei in her Oscar-winning role puts in what I can only describe as a lovely performance, and while the film has certain long-bow contrivances, it's primarily an amusing and well-paced fish-out-of-water comedy.

#72. A Christmas Story (1983, Bob Clark)

This is such an iconic film, I think, to people who grew up in a certain time and a certain place. Watching it now for the first time, it's undeniably dated and quite childish. But having said that, you have to have a soft spot for a sweet Christmas story, particularly one that's told with a good sense of humour. I think the voiceover narration by writer Jean Shepherd drives this film and keeps it grounded, where otherwise it may have had a tendency to come across too whimsical and cutesy. Appropriate that I'm running through this one on Christmas day.

#71. Muhammad & Larry (1980, Albert and David Maysles)

And I round off this block of 10 with a sad and uncompromising documentary from the inimitable Maysles brothers. It deals with the commercially-driven push for Muhammad Ali to come out of a well-earned retirement for one last fight against Larry Holmes - a fight he had no chance of winning. It's a tough indictment of the world of boxing and its fans that there is this hero worship and love of spectacle that ultimately leaves at least one man bashed and bruised and gasping for breath. The Maysles hold a steady, subtle hand as we watch the drama unfold naturally.

And with that, I bid you a fond adieu until the morrow, in which I will probably put up two chunks of ten in order to catch up and finish the countdown on New Year's Eve. I shall now leave you slavering over that thought like the dogs you are.