1. The Big Clock (John Farrow, 1948) This fantastically entertaining noir stars Ray Milland as a crime-magazine editor inadvertently targeted as a murder suspect ... by his own magazine! Really, though, by his fabulously evil rich-guy boss, played by Charles Laughton with mustache-twirling glee. The thriller storyline is expertly constructed, full of oddball characters, and director John Farrow makes it a visual marvel as well, especially the scenes in the elaborate art deco office building with, yes, a big-ass clock. The final act is like a noir version of a door-slamming farce, with a scene-stealing performance from Elsa Lanchester as an eccentric painter trying to milk every possible incentive out of her witness testimony.
2. River (Junta Yamaguchi, 2023) I actually watched this movie twice this year, revisiting it for a Tom's Guide article after enjoying it so much the first time around. I had a great time with Junta Yamaguchi's previous film Beyond the Infinite Two Minutes, and this is just as good, using its simple time-loop premise for clever comedy, sweet romance, and a refreshingly optimistic take on what the future holds. It's technically accomplished, but never in a way that distracts from the characterization or humor. An earnest, heartwarming delight.
3. The Changeling (Peter Medak, 1980) Four months after his wife and daughter die in a terrible accident, George C. Scott moves into the biggest, oldest, hauntedest house he can find, which seems like a bad idea (and is). After a brutal opening, this takes a little while to get going, but it's riveting once it does. There are lots of creepy moments (including a fantastic seance scene), but what I like most is that Scott's character skips right past being scared and appoints himself the advocate for a mistreated, forgotten child ghost. Startling empathy amid the spookiness.
4. Raw Deal (Anthony Mann, 1948) Wonderfully fatalistic noir featuring two women hopelessly in love with an escaped convict (Dennis O'Keefe). Gorgeously shot, with sharp dialogue augmented by Claire Trevor's haunted, emotionally expressive narration (which often intertwines with the dialogue). I watched a lot of noir this year, and this is the most accomplished, purest distillation of the genre that I saw, as the inevitable walls close around the main characters. Also features an almost entirely rectangular Raymond Burr as the bad guy, looming menacingly in great low-angle shots.
5. It Happened in L.A. (Michelle Morgan, 2017) This has major Whit Stillman/Greta Gerwig energy, so of course I was onboard right away, but writer/director/star Michelle Morgan also puts her own stamp on the dry, hyper-literary style, featuring amusingly narcissistic characters. She gets laughs out of Tokyo Story and La Strada references and subtly points to the central relationship as a burgeoning dom/sub dynamic. She also gives a pitch-perfect performance as the haughty lead character, whom someone else on Letterboxd compared derogatorily to Blair Waldorf. Honestly, though, the idea of Blair Waldorf in a Whit Stillman movie might be the greatest thing I can possibly think of.
6. Kitten With a Whip (Douglas Heyes, 1964) Ann-Margret is delightfully unhinged in this overheated mix of noir and exploitation. She plays a teenage delinquent who escapes from juvenile detention and terrorizes/blackmails/seduces a straitlaced businessman and aspiring politician played by John Forsythe. It's basically the template for future cult classic Death Game (and Eli Roth's vastly inferior remake Knock Knock), but with Roger Corman-style beatniks and Production Code-mandated comeuppance for immoral behavior. Even within those limitations, it's wonderfully deranged, with a wicked sense of humor and some absolutely gorgeous noir-style shot composition. It drags a bit whenever Ann-Margret is off-screen, but writer-director Douglas Heyes never lets up on the tension or the nastiness, making the most of his 83-minute running time.
7. Love Me Tonight (Rouben Mamoulian, 1932) Everything comes together beautifully in this lively, inventive musical, from the fantastic Rodgers & Hart songs to the witty pre-Code innuendo to the charming performances (including Myrna Loy and Charles Ruggles in scene-stealing supporting roles) to the visually sophisticated direction from Rouben Mamoulian.
8. Obsession (Brian De Palma, 1976) This is a more satisfying Brian De Palma riff on Vertigo than Body Double, with a less hyperactive style and more cohesive (but still bonkers) storytelling. John Lithgow and Genevieve Bujold are excellent in their somewhat absurd roles, but Cliff Robertson is no James Stewart (thankfully he's no Craig Wasson, either). The movie provides the missing link between Alfred Hitchcock and Park Chan-wook, deeply committing to the emotional reality of its over-the-top plotting and offering a bombshell plot twist that is both insane and sickeningly inevitable.
9. Night of the Living Dead (Tom Savini, 1990) It's a shame that Tom Savini never directed another feature film (although he's obviously extremely accomplished in other ways), because he does a great job of updating George Romero's original movie while staying true to the basic plot and perspective. It helps that Romero himself wrote the screenplay, making some of the social commentary even starker and tweaking the characterization in smart ways. Tony Todd and Patricia Tallman are excellent as the leads, and Savini and Romero only really falter when trying to come up with a different ending that has the same brutal impact as the iconic original.
10. The Initiation (Larry Stewart, 1984) I can't believe it took me this long to discover the link between '80s slasher movies and Melrose Place, which seems obvious in retrospect. This is the only feature film written by future Melrose Place showrunner Charles Pratt Jr., and it stars Melrose's Daphne Zuniga in her first major role. Pratt's screenplay is full of witty dialogue and quirky, well-developed side characters, with a story that mixes together familiar slasher elements and reliable soap-opera plotting. The performances are strong, and the finale takes place inside a fantastically labyrinthine department store. The movie ends with the kind of nutso twist that deserves a place alongside Kimberly Shaw dramatically removing her wig. I guess it has sort of a middling reputation among '80s slashers, but to this longtime Melrose Place fan, it was a wonderfully pleasant surprise.
Honorable mentions: Come Back to the 5 & Dime, Jimmy Dean, Jimmy Dean (Robert Altman, 1982); Guilty Hands (W.S. Van Dyke, 1931); Man of the West (Anthony Mann, 1958); Time Without Pity (Joseph Losey, 1957)
Previous lists:
