We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars

(as Mr. Wilde says)
We drift in and out. We sometimes stay up here in our attic for days, only going downstairs for books or food. We get lost in sensation when the snow piles upon the skylights and the light that filters through makes us feel as if we are underwater. We drink too much tea and get giddy. We drink too much red wine and become languid. We drink too many martinis and become morose. There are stacks and stacks of DVDs up here, and each one is like a memory we can revisit or hide within. Some movies comfort, some inspire, some take us to places we couldn’t possibly imagine ourselves.

It started last night, Elisabeth was making felt penguins for our show (hm, hm, hm which we can’t tell you about yet!) and started talking about suspension of belief, how sometimes you can watch a movie and see the dolly track or the boom and it just jars you right out of the picture and you frown, and how others can present angels sitting in a car dealership, checking off a list of what they saw that chilly Berlin day and you go, ‘of course.’ And it’s the later that we pay tribute to today in our never ending list of lists and obsessions.

What follows is a by no means complete, comprehensive, exhaustive or in an order list of movies that have transported us, made us hold our breaths as they were so fragile, made us cry at their beauty, made us believe that humans can elevate mere existence just ever so slightly off the ground and make that rare, wonderful and magical thing – art. Interestingly almost all of these films are rife with melancholy.

Innocence
This is an extraordinary French film made with amateur actors all for the most part under the age of 13 by Lucile Hadzihalilovic. How could you not be enthralled by a movie that opens with the arrival of the main protagonist, 6-year old Iris, played by Zoe Auclair, in a coffin. When she asks, “what is this place?” She is told by the girls surrounding her, “home”. Home being a number of Victorian orphanages clustered in a foreboding forest linked by lit paths and underground tunnels. At no point is anything explained and at no point do you not marvel at the beauty (like glass breaking) and taste the sinister undercurrent never revealed.

Wings of Desire
Wim Wenders long time collaborator Peter Handke said no when asked to write this film, but made a deal – each day he would send Wim a letter. Because it was that time (wave your hands in the air) and it was Germany and Nick Cave was going to sing he thought, (in a German accent), “what a good idea,” and proceeded to make one of the most majestical, magical and moving two hours of cinema you will ever experience. It is a film where angels haunt gray February Berlin, in shadow by the still standing wall, overhearing the sad inner thoughts of the cities downcast. A few they take special interest in; a girl left behind by the circus, an aging poet, Peter Falk there to film a movie. Shot in gorgeous black and white with some colour by Jean Cocteau’s cinematographer Henri Alekan, it is a moving piece of art, and it contains one of the best band performances in cinema next to the Yardbirds in Blow Up, Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds doing From Her To Eternity. Absolutely haunting. (warning, NEVER see the remake with Nicolas Cage, NEVER)

The Red Shoes
Made in 1948 this is simply the most beautiful film for colour ever made. Vaguely based on Hans Christian Andersen’s tale, produced, deliriously overwritten and directed by team Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger it is the story of a ballerina who must chose between art and life. Astounding in its audacity for sets, colour and outlandishness. Gorgeous.

George Washington/All The Real Girls
David Gordon Green made these two quiet indie films in 2000 and 2003. There are only a few films that have made us hold our breaths while watching as they seem so close to shattering before our eyes. Long takes, natural dialogue and real sadness.

Russian Ark
Speaking of holding ones breath, we were in a panic by the end of this astounding film and also in tears. The premise was, director Alexander Sokurov was given the Hermitage Museum, at one point the Royal Winter Palace for one day to film in 33 rooms 300 years of modern Russian history, all in one glorious sweeping take by cinematographer Tilman Büttner. One. Two hour. Take. It’s astonishing, breathtaking and heart wrenching. In the final, swirling scene a contemporary orchestra conducted by Valery Gergiev plays a waltz, whilst the Russian elite of 1905 laugh and dance then swarm out in to the wintry night and ultimately to their death. It is heartbreaking, just heartbreaking.

La Belle et la bête/Beauty and the Beast
If you have not seen this movie, you must see it now. Immediately. The second world war had just ended, the crew had trouble finding white sheets without holes, there were shortages, fields were clotted with the dead, what better time for Jean Cocteau to make one of the most magical fairy tale movies ever made. Vous volé ma rose. Sigur Ros was the only band touring after 9/11, they never said so, but we saw it as the only true response to what just happened, beauty shall conquer. No words, just see it.

The Street of Crocodiles
We’ve written about the Brother’s Quay before. This is our favourite amongst their stop-motion shorts. Again, a suspension of belief, another world entirely made up of doll parts and wires, screws that screw themselves in to wood and dancing pins. Long shadows. Sepia tints. A haunting musical score. It influenced everything from then on.

Drowning By Numbers
Poopy Mr. Greenaway, when we were in the festival audience for his probably best know film The Pillow Book he was said to be attending. Mr. Greenaway could not attend, he regretted, he sent a fax, “Here was his film,” he said, “a film about books and fucking, what could be better?” And we have to agree. Although that or The Cook, The Thief, His Wife and Her Lover might be more popular, to us, Drowning By Numbers is the most accessable and also the most Peter Greenaway. 100 scenes, duly numbered, 100 violent deaths, drowning, reading, sex, naked fat men, food, three sisters named Sissie. It’s perfect. And a lovely musical score by Michael Nyman.

Oh, it’s gotten so late and we still haven’t talked about Spirited Away, Orlando, Café Lumiere, OldBoy, The Navigator, Pan’s Labrynith, The illusionist, Days of Heaven, Tekkonkinkreet or Summersault yet! Next time. What do you think? Send us your lists.