This photo was created for Variety’s article about Rep. Castro’s list.
Sometimes I wonder if after 35 years, any Members of Congress still care about the preservation of American film and/or the National Film Registry they helped create. Thankfully, we’ve got Representative Joaquin Castro carrying the torch over in Texas’s 20th congressional district. On August 15th (this year’s deadline for NFR nominations), Rep. Castro wrote an open letter to Librarian of Congress Dr. Carla Hayden and the National Film Preservation Board nominating 27 films for NFR consideration, compiled by the Congressional Hispanic Caucus. On the heels of his successful campaign to get “Selena” on the list two years ago and “The Ballad of Gregorio Cortez” last year; Castro is going for the three-peat with his nominations, all of which are either by Latino filmmakers, about the Latino experience, or both. I’m glad Rep. Castro is out there shining his spotlight on the NFR, and particularly films by Latino artists, which make up less than 3% of the films currently on the Registry.
I’m not going to go through every film one by one; you can peruse the list yourself. But I do want to write down some of my initial takeaways about this selection.
Castro’s list isn’t presented in any particular order, which leads me to believe that Gregory Nava’s 1995 film “My Family” is Castro’s top choice by virtue of being listed first. Nava already has two films on the NFR – “El Norte” and the aforementioned “Selena” – and a third wouldn’t seem out of place. Plus “My Family” has Edward James Olmos, who appears in five movies already on the NFR! If betting on the NFR was legitimate, I’d put some money down on “My Family” joining the class of 2023.
The 27 films are a good sampling of Latino filmmaking, with comedies, dramas, documentaries, and even a sci-fi film highlighting various Latino experiences in America throughout the years. Among the more recognizable titles are “Frida” (2002), “The Milagro Beanfield War” (1988), “Maria Full of Grace”, “Up in Smoke” (1978), and “A Better Life” (2011). Directors represented include Alfonso Arau, Aurora Guerrero, Patricia Riggen, María Ripoll, Mariano Barroso and…Robert Redford? Oh right, I forgot he directed “The Milagro Beanfield War”.
It’s interesting to note that of these 27 films, a majority of them were made after 2000. This is no doubt in correlation with the rise of independent filmmaking, which is unfortunately still the only way most filmmakers of color can get their films made and their stories told.
I’m embarrassed to admit that I have not seen any of these films (though the person in front of me on a plane a few months ago was watching “Frida”, so I got the gist of it). At first I thought I had seen Eugenio Derbez’s “Instructions Not Included”, but then I realized I was thinking of the Aubrey Plaza time-travel movie “Safety Not Guaranteed”. Two very different movies. From this list, 2010’s “La Mission” piques my interest. Not only is it set in San Francisco in the late 2000s (aka my college years), but it was directed by Peter Bratt and starring his brother Benjamin. We love to see more “Law & Order” alumni on the list!
In addition to appearing in a few of these movies, Edward James Olmos directs two of them: the 1992 crime drama “American Me”, and the 2006 HBO movie “Walkout”. Castro will not rest until every Edward James Olmos movie has made the NFR. Next year: “Beverly Hills Chihuahua”!
Shoutout to Chris Weitz, whose 2011 Oscar-nominated film “A Better Life” is up for consideration. If it makes the cut, Weitz will be the third generation of his family to make the NFR, after his mother Susan Kohner and her mother Lupita Tovar.
As much I hate to nitpick, I question the eligibility of Castro’s second pick: Alfonso Arau’s 1992 hit “Like Water for Chocolate”. From what I can gather, this was an entirely Mexican production. Heck, it was Mexico’s official submission for the Oscar’s Foreign Language category. Usually the NFR is willing to look the other way if an international film was at least co-financed by an American company, but all signs point to “Like Water for Chocolate” being ineligible for this list.
I submitted my own 2023 nominations back in March, so I didn’t get to include any of Castro’s choices on my own ballot. That being said I have previously nominated two of his 27 films: Julie Taymor’s “Frida” and Lou Adler’s “Up in Smoke”. I nominated “Frida” in a push to get more female-directed films on the list, and “Up in Smoke” because…come on, it’s Cheech & Chong! Cheech is already on the list, and who am I to break up the band?
As always, you can nominate films for NFR consideration. We’ve passed the deadline for 2023 (I’ll be posting my nominations post soon), but you can get a head start on 2024. Nominate here, check out their website’s list of films not yet on the list, and check out my own For Your Consideration page.
Written by Peter Shaffer. Based on his stage play.
Class of 2019
Note: This post is based on my viewing of the Director’s Cut, which runs about 20 minutes longer than the original theatrical version.
The Plot: In 1823 Vienna, elderly composer Antonio Salieri (F. Murray Abraham) confesses to the murder of his legendary contemporary Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (Tom Hulce). Via flashback to 40 years earlier, Salieri recounts his time as the court composer to Vienna’s Joseph II (Jeffrey Jones), devoting his life to composing in hopes of achieving fame and recognition. Upon meeting Mozart, Salieri is shocked to discover that he is a crude young man, yet with a seemingly God-given talent for composition. Salieri’s jealousy leads him to exact any sort of revenge he can on Mozart, who despite his alcoholism and troubled marriage to Constanze Weber (Elizabeth Berridge), is composing his most famous operas (The Marriage of Figaro, Don Giovanni, The Magic Flute). As Mozart succumbs to his alcoholism, it turns out Salieri’s murder of Mozart wasn’t literal, but rather a metaphorical one through his jealousy. Kind of a letdown after three hours.
Why It Matters: The NFR praises “Amadeus” for being a “deeply absorbing, visually sumptuous film”, highlighting F. Murray Abraham’s performance.
But Does It Really?: I guess. “Amadeus” is iconic enough for eventual NFR induction, though clearly no one was rushing to get it on there (it made the cut 25 years after becoming eligible). Everything about the movie works: the aesthetic, the direction, the overall story, and especially the lead performances by Abraham and Hulce. But ultimately, all I have to say about this movie is that it’s fine. In a way, “Amadeus” has become its own Salieri – or at least this film’s version of him: a highly respected if not spectacular film whose legacy has started to fade in the shadow of its low-brow but more impactful contemporaries like “Ghostbusters“, “The Terminator” and “This Is Spinal Tap“, all films from 1984 that made the NFR before “Amadeus”.
Title Track: Amadeus was, of course, Mozart’s middle name, and is Latin for “love of God”, a major theme of the film.
Seriously, Oscars?: A critical and commercial success upon release, “Amadeus” tied David Lean’s “A Passage to India” for the most Oscar nominations of the year (11), going on to win eight, including Best Picture, Director, Actor for F. Murray Abraham, and a boatload of tech awards. When “Passage to India” composer Maurice Jarre won Best Original Score, he accepted by saying he “was lucky Mozart was not eligible this year.”
Other notes
As your history teacher was quick to point out before plopping “Amadeus” into the VCR, the film is a fictional riff on historical events. There is no evidence to suggest that Salieri and Mozart were rivals, though they weren’t exactly best buds either. The mystery around Mozart’s tragic death has lent itself to creative theories over the years, with playwright Alexander Pushkin speculating that Salieri did it with his 1830 play “Mozart and Salieri”. 150 years later, Peter Shaffer took this idea and fleshed it out into the play “Amadeus”, turning Salieri’s envy into a metaphorical killing rather than a literal one. It was not long into the play’s theatrical run that director Miloš Forman and producer Saul Zaentz approached Shaffer about a film adaptation.
“Amadeus” was filmed primarily in Prague, which architecturally looked very much like Vienna did in the 1800s and didn’t need much set-dressing to look era-appropriate. It was Miloš Forman’s first trip back to Prague after he left his native Czechoslovakia following the 1968 invasion. Czechoslovakia was still under Communist rule at the time, and many cast and crew members, including Forman, recall the shoot being constantly under surveillance by secret police.
It occurred to me during this viewing that “Amadeus” is a bit of an outlier in the NFR. We rarely get this kind of expensive costume drama on the list, which tends to favor smaller, contemporary character studies by independent auteurs. Also interesting to note that “Amadeus” and “Platoon” are jointly the first Best Picture winners from the 1980s to make the list, despite being eligible since the mid-’90s. Compare that with later winners like “Schindler’s List” and “Unforgiven“, which made the NFR within their first few years of eligibility.
The film’s dance numbers were staged by legendary choreographer Twyla Tharp, best remembered today as the third name Robin Williams shouts during that one scene in “The Birdcage”.
As always, a tip of the hat to makeup artist Dick Smith, who knocks it out of the park with Salieri’s old age makeup. Making a middle-aged man convincingly appear to be 81 is no easy task, but Smith does an incredible job, and F. Murray Abraham is relishing the chance to disappear into the makeup.
Fun Fact: The F in F. Murray Abraham stands for Fahrid. His birth name is Murray Abraham, and he added the F to his stage name as a tribute to his father, Fahrid Abraham.
Once again, I struggle to write about registered sex offender/actor Jeffrey Jones, seen here as Emperor Joseph II. He’s very good in this, adding some light comic relief to the proceedings, and I found myself laughing at his performance and then immediately getting mad at myself for doing so. So much for separating the art from the artist. To the best of my knowledge, Jones had not committed any of the things he would later be arrested and charged for when he was making “Amadeus”, so I have that to cling to for my own sanity.
Man, Tom Hulce is great in this. He makes Mozart a living artist rather than a cardboard historical figure. Plus he did his own piano playing (I mean, it’s dubbed, but the actual playing is accurate). With all due respect to F. Murray Abraham’s great work, I think I would have voted for Hulce if I had an Oscar ballot.
This movie is a cornucopia of recognizable character actors, including Christine Ebersole, Roy Dotrice, Vincent Schiavelli (a Forman go-to), Simon Callow (the original Mozart on the London stage), Barbara Bryne, Douglas Seale, a 17 year old Cynthia Nixon, and personal MVP Patrick Hines as Kappelmeister Bonno. Plus, the “Don Giovanni” parody performance includes Kenny Baker in his only NFR appearance where he’s not hidden inside a remote-controlled trash can.
What was the wig budget on this movie?
Elizabeth Berridge was a last-minute replacement for Meg Tilly, who injured her leg the day before shooting began. No offense to Ms. Berridge, but I wish I could have seen Meg Tilly in the role. On its own the role of Constanze is little more than “the wife”, and you need an actor like Tilly to bring their own unique quality to make the part stand out. Berridge is not helped out by the fact that her main subplot, in which Constanze is seduced by Salieri, was cut from the theatrical release, depriving the character of most of her nuance. Also, is it just me or does Elizabeth Berridge kinda look like Stockard Channing?
It amuses me that this movie is so high-brow that not even a fart joke can convince me otherwise. Tom Hulce farts for musical punctuation and we still gave this movie eight Oscars.
Joseph: “My own dear sister Antoinette writes me that she is beginning to be frightened of her own people.” I assume this was originally followed by Joseph saying “Shall we eat cake?” and then winking so hard at the camera it cracked the lens.
It takes almost two hours, but the guy from the poster finally arrives. Turns out it’s the costume Mozart’s dad wears, later donned by Salieri when he commissions Mozart to write a requiem. I guess it’s a metaphor about death or something.
In one of his last drunken binges, I think Mozart accidentally invents rock and roll. “Charles! It’s your cousin Marvin von Berry! You know that new sound you’re looking for? Well listen to this!”
Points deducted from this movie for a severe case of “Volume Up, Volume Down”. Every time I had to crank up the volume to hear the dialogue, I get blasted by a choir belting Requiem. Bad form, “Amadeus”.
I always watch the full credits on these movies because you never know what gems you’ll find, and “Amadeus” has a real doozy. The special thanks section begins with the producers thanking different groups for “their boundless assistance in our effort to present the physical authenticity and aura you have seen and felt in ‘Amadeus’.” Sheesh. Get over yourselves, it’s just a movie.
Legacy
“Amadeus” was released in September 1984, and was an immediate hit. In addition to its acclaim by critics and end-of-year awards ceremonies, the film’s soundtrack sold over six million copies, making it one of the most successful classical music albums ever released.
Somewhat ironically, the success of both the play and film of “Amadeus” brought renewed interest in Salieri’s music. There have been a few revivals of his operas, but his work continues to be overshadowed by Mozart’s.
Miloš Forman’s next movie was 1989’s “Valmont”, another costume drama, this time with Meg Tilly. Unsurprisingly, “Valmont” received unfavorable comparisons to another recent adaptation of the same novel: “Dangerous Liaisons”. Forman’s latter filmography includes two quirky biopics: “The People vs. Larry Flynt” and “Man on the Moon”.
“Amadeus” is one of those films that gets referenced more than parodied, usually brought up in passing as part of Oscar history or the filmography of its stars. Most parodies revolve around the film’s overall concept and/or framing device, and this “Family Guy” parody has always tickled me just right. I think it’s Peter’s deadpan delivery of “Play Peter Griffin.”
And last, but far from least: In 1985 Austrian musician Johann Hölzel, aka Falco, blessed us with his hit song “Rock Me Amadeus”. I have no idea if it was made in response to the movie or not, but the two are forever linked. I would have given this movie an automatic four stars if it had ended with “Rock Me Amadeus”.
Written by Weber. Based on the play “Au Telephone” by André de Lorde.
Class of 2020
The Plot: The sudden resignation of a servant (Actor Unknown) leaves a Wife (Lois Weber) home alone with her newborn baby. Suddenly, a Tramp (Sam Kaufman) arrives, breaking into the house and cutting off the phoneline as the Wife calls her Husband (Valentine Paul). Sensing danger, the Husband steals someone’s car and speeds towards home, with the car’s owner (Douglas Gerrard) and the police in hot pursuit. As you can tell, this premise is ripe with…an uncertain tension.
Why It Matters: The NFR gives a detailed plot synopsis and recognizes Lois Weber as part of the “women directors [that] played a prominent role in the development of film as an art form.” Unusually for an NFR write-up, they include a link to an Amazon listing of a book they reference, in this case Charlie Keil’s book on early American film. Is the NFR an influencer?
But Does It Really?: Sure. “Suspense” has a lot going for it as long as you’re a film buff. On its own “Suspense” is a bit of a mess, but knowing that Lois Weber is behind the camera (as well as in front of it) makes it all the more interesting. Known for her moral melodramas of the late 1910s, it’s fun to watch Lois Weber making a film that favors sensationalism over the social commentary that would become her wheelhouse. I can give “Suspense” a pass as a stepping stone movie for Lois Weber on her way to bigger and better.
Everybody Gets One: We’ve covered Lois Weber and her move to Hollywood in 1912 with her husband Phillips Smalley in previous posts. What I’ll say here is that part of the reason for the move was Carl Laemmle’s initiative for more female directors and producers within Universal, and Lois started directing as soon as she arrived. Fun Fact: In fall 1913, Weber was named the first mayor of Universal City! Sure it’s an honorary title, but it looks good on a resume.
Wow, That’s Dated: If this film was remade today its treatment of the houseless character would either be completely different or exactly the same, and I’m afraid of what the answer would be.
Other notes
This film’s cinematography is easily its greatest asset. In the first few moments, we get a shot from the servant’s perspective as if she’s peeping through a keyhole. After that we get the film’s most iconic shot: the three-way split screen of the Wife in the living room, the Husband at his office, and the Tramp just outside the house. It’s the kind of visually impressive storytelling that wouldn’t be perfected until “24“, or at least “Bye Bye Birdie“.
Even after her pivot to directing, Weber continued to act in a handful of her own films, including this one. To the best of my knowledge this is Weber’s only on-screen appearance in the NFR.
While we’re on the subject of the film’s actors, let me dispel the rumor that Lon Chaney is in “Suspense”. There’s an actor in the film who kinda sorta looks like Lon Chaney, so it was suggested that it might be him in an early film role (his first film appearances were in 1913, the same year “Suspense” was released). With the advent of digital restorations and cleaner prints, however, those who made the initial claim have walked back their Chaney theory.
Another impressive shot is from the perspective of the husband’s rear-view mirror as he sees the police car quickly approaching him. Great to look at, though be warned that artistic compositions in mirror are closer than they appear.
This movie has a lot going on in 10 minutes. We get a tramp menacing this woman in her home (although he’s mostly there to eat), we get our alleged hero hitting a guy with his car (the Lon Chaney lookalike), and then everyone gets to the house at the same time and quickly resolve everything. Still, it was suspenseful, so I gotta give it that.
Legacy
Lois Weber would go on to direct two more films that have made the National Film Registry, both from 1916: “Where Are My Children” and “Shoes“.
“Suspense” is of no relation to the 1946 movie or radio/TV anthology series of the same name.
#658) Bert Williams Lime Kiln Club Field Day (1913)
OR “Gold Rushes”
Directed by Edwin Middleton and T. Hayes Hunter
Based on the “Brother Gardner’s Lime-Kiln Club” column by Charles Bertrand Lewis
Class of 2014
2024 UPDATE: This was originally a placeholder post as I could only find about six minutes of “Lime Kiln Club” online via the Museum of Modern Art YouTube channel (embedded above). Thankfully, the good people at the Criterion Channel have included the full film on their channel, plus all kinds of bonus goodies. Check it out!
The Plot: We’re pretty sure “Lime Kiln Club Field Day” is about a dandy (Bert Williams) who is vying with other suitors (Walker Thompson and Henry Troy) for the affection of a young lady (Odessa Warren Grey). The reason for my uncertainty is that “Lime Kiln Club Field Day” was never completed, and no script or plot synopsis survives. What has survived is an hour’s worth of outtake footage presented in an approximation of a narrative. Even in its incomplete form, “Lime Kiln Club” is the earliest surviving American feature film to include an all-Black cast.
Why It Matters: The NFR gives the film’s historical significance, and cites Bert Williams as “among the most gifted of screen comedians”.
But Does It Really?: Oh yeah, this one made its NFR case pretty clear from the get-go. “Lime Kiln Club Field Day” is a fascinating watch; documenting a rare showcase for Black actors, presented in a unique melding of narrative film and found footage. Without films like “Lime Kiln Club”, it’s easy to erase the presence of Black actors in silent film history, with only more popular, better preserved films like “Birth of a Nation” providing its own distorted perspective. But “Lime Kiln Club” shows that there were movies of the time willing to cast Black actors in leading roles, and this reconstructed version is an indispensable time capsule; a “what if” for the kind of progressive filmmaking that could have occurred had the film received a proper release in 1913. I’m glad “Lime Kiln Club” found its way onto the NFR, and equally glad that Criterion Channel has made it more accessible to the public.
Everybody Gets One/Wow, That’s Dated: Oh boy howdy, this is complex. On the one hand, Bert Williams was one of the most successful Black entertainers of the early 1900s, playing to White audiences as well as Black. On the other hand, he achieved this fame by wearing Blackface (he was a light-skinned Bahamian man) and resorting to the stereotypes of the day. Williams parlayed his stage success with the Ziegfeld Follies into film work starting around 1910. In keeping with his stage persona, Williams performs his role in “Lime Kiln Field” in Blackface. It’s distressing, but an important reminder of what it took for a Black actor to achieve any sort of crossover success in America.
Title Track: Brother Gardner’s Lime-Kiln Club was a fictional Black fraternal organization created by journalist Charles Bertrand Lewis for the Detroit Free Press. It should be noted that Lewis was White and that these columns were meant to humorously play on negative African-American stereotypes. As for the film itself, we don’t definitively know what it was actually titled. Research has shown that the film is based on the “Lime Kiln Club” sketches Williams performed on vaudeville, and was given the full name “Bert Williams: Lime Kiln Club Field Day” by MoMA after the footage came into their possession.
Other notes
“Lime Kiln Club” came to be thanks to Klaw and Erlanger, a theatrical management company that, among many accomplishments, produced the Ziegfeld Follies. Looking to expand their enterprise beyond the stage, Klaw and Erlanger entered a production deal with Biograph around 1913, with “Lime Kiln Club” chosen as a vehicle for Bert Williams, one of their biggest stars. The film’s co-directors were also part of this deal: Edwin Middleton was from Biograph, and T. Hayes Hunter from Klaw and Erlanger.
In the interest of preserving as much of this footage as possible for presentation, MoMA’s reconstruction includes each take in its full, uncut form, with no editing or crosscutting. This means almost every take begins with someone holding up the marker indicating which number take this is (no need for a slate, these are silent films after all), and we get brief glimpses of the actors out-of-character, standing around before a take or talking with the directors. In addition, this version limits itself to two takes per scene, enough for an audience to see the subtle differences in each take, but not enough to be too repetitive or boring.
Based on the available footage (including the outtakes), it appears that there were no more than four takes done for any scene. That would explain how these silent films were cranked out so quickly; it only needs to look good, not sound good.
Watching the full version of “Lime Kiln Club” was a fascinating experience. The most surprising aspect for me was that Bert Williams is the only person in the film wearing Blackface or doing the exaggerated Black stereotyping we associate with silent films. All the other Black performers are acting and behaving quite naturally (aside from the occasional over-acting, but hey, it was 1913). Oddly enough, this helps make Bert’s acting more palatable. Still cringe-inducing, but at least its not commentary on an entire race of people.
Shoutout to Odessa Warren Grey as the leading lady. Warren Grey started out as a performer, but by 1913 she was focused primarily on her millenary business and was known as quite the fashionable socialite. Warren Grey had performed alongside Bert Williams roughly 10 years prior to this film, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she acted in “Lime Kiln Club” as a favor to her old co-star. And it goes without saying Odessa looks incredible in the stylish outfits she wears throughout the film.
One interesting takeaway from the film’s unedited presentation: We get an uncut take of Odessa opening her window and looking down at her three suitors, followed by her mother (Abbie Mitchell) pouring a bucket of water out the same window. This is followed by an uncut take of her suitors on the ground floor, with Bert getting the water poured on his head. Obviously, it wouldn’t have been cut this way in the final film, but the extended delay between set-up and punchline made it funnier to me.
The “field day” of the title consists of a parade, followed by a picnic in the park, with plenty of food and even a few carnival-type rides. Most of this footage is club members participating in games, including a regrettably stereotypical watermelon eating contest. Somebody please invent the bouncy castle!
The Criterion presentation of “Lime Kiln Club” includes two different soundtracks composed by, respectively, Donald Sosin and Trevor Mathison. The Sosin score is a traditional silent movie soundtrack akin to what an audience in 1913 would have heard, while the Mathison score is more an electronic soundscape unrelated to the on-screen action. In other words, Sosin’s score makes you view this footage as a narrative film, while Mathison’s score makes you view the footage as an art installation. Two very different but equally important ways to approach “Lime Kiln Club” over a century after its creation.
The final scene of Bert walking Odessa to her house is noteworthy in that we get three variations on the same ending. After an hour of watching multiple takes that unfold roughly the same way each time, it was interesting seeing that the filmmakers were still figuring out what exactly they wanted for the ending. Also noteworthy is that all three include a kiss between Bert and Odessa, one of the rare recordings of affection between two Black people at the time. The third variation is a close-up kiss that goes on for so long it puts that couple from “Something Good” to shame.
Legacy
As “Lime Kiln” was nearing completion, Klaw and Erlanger’s deal with Biograph fell through, and Biograph retained the rights to all the films made under the agreement. While Biograph did release a few of their Klaw and Erlanger films, they did not release “Lime Kiln Club” due to – you guessed it – “concerns” about releasing a film with an all-Black cast in Southern theaters, and the film was abandoned.
In 1939, the long-defunct Biograph studio closed its film vault for good and planned on destroying all of its surviving film reels. Thankfully, the Museum of Modern Art’s first film curator Iris Barry learned of this, and was able to save over 900 cans of film. Among those cans were the original negatives of the abandoned “Lime Kiln Club” footage. The first positive print was made from these negatives in 1976, and the first public screening at MoMA was in October 2014 (two months before it made the NFR).
Bert Williams continued performing with Ziegfeld until 1919, around the same time that Klaw and Erlanger dissolved their partnership. While he was able to headline his own stage shows, Williams faced diminishing returns, which led to his steep decline into alcoholism and depression. After a brief bout of pneumonia, Bert Williams died in 1922 at age 47.
Most of Bert William’s songs from his stage act have been covered over the years, though mostly by White artists. The most recognizable tribute to Williams is in the Kander & Ebb musical “Chicago”, in which the character of Amos performs “Mr. Cellophane”, composed in the style of a Bert Williams number.
And of course a huge shoutout to everyone at the Museum of Modern Art who helped restore “Lilm Kiln Club Field Day” and make it available for viewing, as well as MoMA film curator Ron Magliozzi, who shares his insights with TCM’s Jacqueline Stewart on the film’s Criterion Channel intro video. If you don’t already have a subscription to the Criterion Channel, why are you reading this?
Listen to This: Bert Williams rose to fame with his stage partner George Walker, which led to the two recording their act for the Victor Talking Machine Company. The surviving recordings were added to the National Recording Registry in 2003, and its write-up includes an essay by music historian David Suisman.
On October 19th, 1990, the National Film Registry unveiled another crop of 25 films selected for preservation, bringing their total up to an even 50. Cut to 33 years later, when yours truly has finished watching all 25. To refresh your memory, here once again is the NFR Class of 1990, accompanied by my thoughts from my original write-ups:
Having gotten the impossible task of compiling the initial 25 films out of the way, the NFR can start having some fun, and the Class of 1990 is a mix of the kind of classics you expect from the list, plus a few welcomed surprises. While most of the 1990 roster reads like a runner-up list (I’m still baffled that “Godfather” and “It’s a Wonderful Life” didn’t make the ’89 cut), we get a large number of recent (by 1990 standards) films, plus the list’s first female directors (congratulations Maya Deren and Barbara Kopple!). The appearance of “Killer of Sheep” once again proves that this list isn’t just the preordained classics, and that people of color will be represented, as well as smaller films waiting to be discovered by movie lovers.
Looking back on my initial posts, I was all over the map with these movies. While most of them I deem iconic and important, there’s quite a few that didn’t hold up for me. I start seeing one of my go-to phrases in these write-ups: “lost in the shuffle”. These are films that were undisputed classics in 1990 that I suspect would have a harder time getting on the NFR if it was starting today. Still, I’m able to justify the importance of each one, never doubting their rightful spot on the list, even if a few of them feel like they cut the line to make the top 50.
Other notes
When the NFR Class of 1990 was announced, future NFR entries “Goodfellas” and “To Sleep with Anger” were playing in theaters, while “Paris Is Burning” was playing the festival circuit. Also in theaters was “Fantasia” as part of its 50th anniversary re-release, the first evidence in my theory that Disney occasionally sways the NFR to induct one of their movies as a bit of free publicity. And number one at the weekend box office was the Steven Seagal movie “Marked for Death”, which may be the first time I’ve ever mentioned a Steven Seagal movie on this blog.
The most amazing coincidence of all: The day the Class of 1990 was announced was the exact same day that “Dances with Wolves” held its premiere in Washington D.C. before playing a wide-release the next month. I’m sure nobody at that premiere could have predicted “Wolves” would make the NFR 17 years later…except maybe Costner in a bit of prophetic ego-stroking.
Among this year’s “double-dippers” are character actors Eric Blore, Ward Bond, Barry Fitzgerald, Walter Huston, and Charles Ruggles. Behind the cameras we get director/producer Howard Hawks, producer Darryl F. Zanuck, costume designer Edith Head, and a trio of legendary composers: Alfred Newman, Max Steiner, and Dimitri Tiomkin.
Thematic double dips: Rivers (be they “Red” or just “The”), coal miners and their hazardous work environments, European escapism, unhappy families in 1970s Los Angeles, Italian lowlifes in 1940s New York, dinosaurs, Disney cartoon characters, unsupportive studio bosses, and Eric Blore’s flawless reactions.
Favorites of my own subtitles: The New College Try, Say the Secret Word and Democracy Comes Down, Venice Match, Commie Dearest, A Little Mice Music, The Chaos Theory Holiday Special, Rat Baxter, and Angst for Nothing.
And finally, a special shout-out to Mario Puzo, who wrote in his novel “The Godfather” about the graphic decapitation of a Hollywood mogul’s prized horse. This of course led to the iconic moment in the film adaptation, which in turn gave me the name of the blog. I’m grateful every day that I went with “The Horse’s Head” and not my first idea: “Windmills on Film”. What the hell does that even mean?
The Horse's Head 