Best Movies

Today we talk about good cinema, those of projector (or big TV and comfortable sofa) and popcorn, great scenes that went down in history, unforgettable dialogues that can change the way you see the world, actors and actresses that we remember over and over again with affection and admiration in equal parts. Today we are making an attempt to mention some of the best tapes turned into works of art that we humans have given birth to.

When one proposes to make a list of the best films and thinks, the first ten minutes, that everything will go on Wheels, one gives such a slap in reality in the eleventh minute that the “”gauntas de padre”” remain in a subtle caress. In the before, during and after, it is a mobile list, restless, impossible; for the best films of all time are hundreds, thousands! not ten or twelve, thirty or fifty. That is why one has to do an almost monacal act of contrition and decide for one or the other simply because one has to finish it at some point, not because, after all, this or that which prevails is better or worse than that which remained out.

Bohemian Rhapsody (2018)

Including this film on this list may seem, in the eyes of most, meaningless and almost offensive. Compare Bohemian Rhapsody to Benur? If. I suppose some privilege I have to allow myself to have devised all this. Isn’t it?

I just got out of the movies from watching the movie about Freddy Mercury’s life, or, as many would say, the Queen Movie. It has been such a great impact, such a beautiful display of ingenuity, passion, tenderness and beauty, that I feel the need to put it on this list of best films that we have so humbly created. I think Bohemian Rhapsody can easily choose to win a ticket to Eternity and collective memory, yes, the same as the Queen band itself. I think making a film that was up to the life of Freddie Mercury and his music group shouldn’t be an easy task, and I’m surprised to see the majesty that that Masterpiece has been sculpted. It is simply perfect from beginning to end, inexplicably good, absurdly well done.

In front of the screen, there have been two unusual things: on the one hand I have felt chills and, on the other, I have had this desire that very rarely arises when you are sitting in a chair; “”may it never be over.””

Bohemian Rhapsody is the first film I’ve ever seen in my life that makes you cry, laugh out loud, reflect on the meaning of life and love, and also motivate you to be better at everything. All this in equal parts in two hours and forty minutes where, believe me, there is nothing left and nothing can be added.

Schindler’s list (1993

Spielberg. That TIPARRACO. Not occur to me words to appropriately describe this director. In 1993, with its Jurassic Park dinosaurs in the midst of the reconquers, he took and pulled out of the manga which is considered by many to be the best film in history, with a capital and not without reasons. It was rumored at the time that his new project was going to be an intimism story of black and white Nazis, and many, me among them, believed that he was going to catch the Indiana Jones Nazis and put them in little more than just jumping and shooting in equal parts. And it premiered, and one would walk into the movie theater with one face, and that face would change forever. History tells us of Oskar Schindler, an unscrupulous businessman who takes advantage of the mechanisms of war to amass an immense fortune. Drinker, vivid and well connected, has an epiphanical moment (red and famous) that opens his eyes, until then opportunely closed, and establishes a plan to save, in full Holocaust, the lives of the Jews who work for him…, and more. This plan will drag him into earthly ruin, but it will elevate him to the glory of the righteous. Almost every shot of the film is a masterpiece in itself, every plane, every scene, every dialogue, every note of the eternal soundtrack of John Williams; the life in the ghetto, the blood, the feasts and the laughter, the pain, the death, everything happens with a shocking softness, with a brutal calm, and a few actors nail their respective roles. You will finish seeing it and wonder how it is possible that the human being could have reached such extremes; then you will put the news and you will have forgotten the question.

The Godfather (1972)

Francis Ford Coppola took Mario Puzo’s magnificent novel —famous for being the screenwriter of Superman II, wink, wink— and made his immortal Chronicle of Michael Corleone’s rise to power, from a past that tries to avoid family Impressionism to his coronation as heir to the great empire of crime of his father, Don Vito Corleone, a self-made man, as would be seen in his no less fascinating continuation. He introduces us to the entire main cast in the memorable opening scene of his daughter’s wedding, where we see at once how the life of a family so capable of showing the utmost respect for traditions, as well as orchestrating the greatest barbarities to maintain —and expand, when the time comes— its reign of terror. Intrigue, action, love, ambition, betrayal … he’s got it all. Not a single second of footage is missing, not a single note from the iconic soundtrack.

Braveheart (1995), Mel Gibson’s best movie

From time to time, the most implausible actors take over and mess with it, and that’s what Mel Gibson did with Braveheart. Well known for starring in action films of quite renown, he made his second or third pin in the direction with an epic that narrated the exploits of William Wallace, a Scottish of humble birth who, fed up with the excesses of the English king who subdues them, organizes a movement of resistance that will ignite, little by little, the fuse for a revolution, going from small skirmishes to Grand wars that will no longer awaken the disdainful smile of the opportunely evil Longshanks, but his alarm that is coming upon him. Mel Gibson makes an almost point-by-point portrait of the archetypal hero, from his childhood trauma leading him to orphanhood, his education with his uncle, his murdered love, his two friends, his victory, his fall, his rebirth… and intercedes with certain attentions to the messianic figure of Jesus Christ, there is nothing; a cocktail worthy of Ramon De Pitis, and yet it works perfectly. How? Watch it and neither will you understand, but I charm. The broken James Horner deals with the soundtrack, and is as memorable as everything that gave him time to produce.

Pulp Fiction (1994), of John Travolta’s best films

A motley group of individuals, none of them respectable family man, intermingle in this kind of choral compendium with petty criminals. It is a continuous succession of loose scenes that are spinning, without respecting —interestingly, in a very correct way— the continuous space time, in whose fabric they will converge until forming the perfect framework only at the end of the whole, in the same closing scene that opened everything. Here, Tarantino shows unleashed and nothing is stored great for certain times, but that is by spraying the film of small doses of brilliance, which makes it a delight, is the minute that it is. As in all his films, he takes care of the soundtrack in every detail, in this case not composed but swirled —understand well: swirled to the world of music— with audacity and taste. In Pulp Fiction everything is important, everything is bullshit; all are secondary protagonists. How he gets every plot thread as addictive as a good shot, you should ask him.; but I’ll bet you a cool beer, or a big Kahuna Burger, you wouldn’t answer.