A gentle, meandering family comedy marked by moments of brilliant wit, satire and featuring superb performances from an excellent cast, particularly a young(er) Abigail Breslin in a mature, assured turn. It's also a clever but scathing indictment of a culture of unforgivable sleaze and exploitation, a message I know I and many others can easily get on board with.

Tarantino does his WW2 thing. It's what you'd expect, really – supremely stylish, three or four riveting performances, particularly Waltz who, of course, is terrifyingly offbeat as the villain of the piece. Brutal, bloody and at times brilliantly funny, based off of the usual razor-sharp writing and direction. It's pure cinematic indulgence but I honestly wouldn’t have Tarantino any other way.

My absolute favourite animated film: a childhood favourite I still love and enjoy a great deal today. It's a great classic story but what Disney brings to it improves it no end – the animation is beautiful, the voice performances from Goldwyn, Driver, Blessed et al are spot on and the music, well, some would probably call it cheesy but I can’t help but love every single song on Phil Collins' soundtrack. It's a brave, bittersweet retelling of the story but ultimately proves to be heart-warming and fantastically entertaining ride.

One of the most quotable movies I've ever seen. Whether it's from the immense Burt Lancaster or Tony Curtis, I swear not a minute goes by without one of them or any of the supporting cast delivering a biting, lovingly constructed one-liner. It's also a wonderfully sleazy noir tale, funny and dramatic with great performances, depicting the grimy backstreets and nightclubs of Manhattan brilliantly. But it's that beautifully written script, the dialogue in particular, that really makes it a great film.

This unassuming little film took me completely by surprise. Never have I seen a group of more colourful and varied characters in a documentary. Even though the format guarantees a certain degree of manipulation, one can’t help but feel as if the almost archetypal “Hollywood” character types – the hero; the villain; the comic relief – that populate this strange little community are portrayed honestly by the filmmakers and each is a joy to behold. Wiebe’s dogged, quiet determination; Mitchell’s hilariously misplaced arrogance and Day’s endearing eccentricity make for great starting points for hilarious yet disarmingly deep character studies.

Saying this is the "worst" of the LOTR trilogy is like saying your middle child is your "worst" kid. As shallow a reason as this may be, I rank TTT the lowest simply because it’s the second of three. Fellowship is the oh-so promising beginning of the epic journey, and Return is the brilliant, beautiful, sob-inducing conclusion. But The Two Towers is equally as vast, riveting, and transporting and has those wonderfully intimate battle sequences as well.

Something about this keeps me absolutely gripped throughout. The script is cutting, fast-paced, and above all, remarkably witty and the performances are spot on. I think this is my favourite showing from the indelible Jack Lemmon, despite stiff competition from the likes of Some Like it Hot and Glengarry Glen Ross. It really is incredible to watch him do his work; a by turns comedic and dramatic performance that is completely absorbing.

The most darkly comic movie I've ever seen; seemingly nothing is off-limits in a film that is also unexpectedly poignant. Happiness cuts deep on controversial topics, in ways that are morally ambiguous and immensely thought-provoking whilst remaining extremely entertaining. All the actors – Hoffman, Baker and Jon Lovitz in a small role in the first scene in particular – give excellent, malicious, underrated performances. It's twisted, confrontational and honest – unapologetically so – and I love it.

The way The Truman Show’s camerawork and art design creates the film’s uniquely voyeuristic atmosphere is one of the things that first got me thinking about film as something that can go beyond basic entertainment. I still think it’s magnificent how those factors, coupled with Carrey’s measured, perfectly-pitched performance, gives the film such a strong sense of its central theme.

This marks the first in a run of three leading performances in which the usually wacky Carrey let loose a side of his acting many of us had never seen before. In this (and 1999’s Man on the Moon and 2004’s Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind), he proves he can act with the best of them in a mostly dramatic role. As Truman Burbank he is a victim of a cruel reality known to everyone but him, and he plays the slow realisation with remarkable subtlety, simultaneously provoking empathy and laughter. He makes Truman sympathetic and easy to identify with, the only remotely human character in an inhuman world.

I'm firmly in the realms of cliché here but this really is one of the most heart-warming, life-affirming films I've ever had the pure pleasure of seeing. Led by a typically excellent James Stewart, it's also ahead of its time in its strong wit and, while sentimental, never fails to take me on that emotional journey it so lovingly, effectively evokes. It’s cheesy as f**k but I wouldn't have it any other way.

Unlikely, touching relationship story based on a script of remarkable wit and pitch-black humour. It matches a young cynic, whose fake "suicides" mark scenes of dark brilliance, with a life-loving elderly woman. It's refreshing to see such an unconventional relationship portrayed so honestly in a film that is so offbeat, almost surreal. It's a strange combination but one that works perfectly, drawing the film to a bittersweet but life-affirming conclusion that sneaks up and takes you completely by surprise, emotionally speaking.

"Epic" in the truest sense of the word. In terms of time, in two senses – the length of the movie itself (but one that is shockingly easy to sit through), and the amount of time we see go by in the film. Physically, its grand, beautiful sets, costumes and locations lend themselves to a sense of epic-ness, an effect amplified by the gorgeous cinematography. But most importantly, it’s emotionally epic. It's by turns funny, bittersweet, sad, heart-pounding, terrifying and heart-breaking, made possible by brilliant writing and thunderous, glowing performances from Leigh, Gable and every single one of the many supporting actors.

I would be remiss not to at least acknowledge that Gone with the Wind is a product of a generation with traditional, antiquated views, but as a piece of cinema and a piece of entertainment in a modern context, it is able to overcome those negative features (which are relatively slight anyway) to stand up as a shining example of golden age Hollywood moviemaking.

A near-perfect crime thriller, steeped in bleak reality but full of immensely compelling character studies. The visual style that Meirelles and his crew employ is breathtaking, lending itself to a manically paced but nevertheless thorough narrative that takes us on an absolutely thrilling ride through a world that is so well realised, so in tune with its visuals, creating a story and evoking a time and place you feel inextricably involved in, for better or worse. A brutal but stunning film in every sense of the word.

A dark, surreal, terrifying nightmare that miraculously weaves humour and genuine pathos into its narrative. The performances are good, but what makes the film is the brooding, creepy, intensely mysterious atmosphere, made only weirder and certainly more memorable by an inspired 80s soundtrack. It's a difficult film to get your head around, even spawning numerous fan theories about what really goes on, but its genius, like Mulholland Drive, is in the fact that it lets you enjoy not knowing, and the process of discovery and realisation.

The most intimate of the trilogy; but no less magical, no less absorbing than its sequels. I'm saving most of my comments for the final entry.

Do I really need to explain the virtues of Back to the freakin' Future? Alright, for the uninitiated, if there are still any of you out there: Whip-smart. Imaginative. Compelling characters. And above all, a veritable CRAPLOAD of fun. Take the very first couple of scenes – right off the bat, we have an exploding amplifier and skateboarding to the nostalgic strains of Huey Lewis and News' The Power of Love. And that's far from my favourite sequence in the film.

One of the film's greatest strengths is that it's just smart enough in how it deals with time travel. Zemeckis and Gale made it complex enough for us to suspend our disbelief, but they never get bogged down in details; they make it the setup, not the star of the show. Maybe it's a strained comparison, but the recent Looper did exactly the same thing – Bruce Willis' character remarking, 'I don't want to talk about time travel because if we start talking about it then we're going to be here all day talking about it, making diagrams with straws'. The same sort of ethos is clearly in the fabric of Back to the Future.

http://i.imgur.com/izs9aKo.jpg

"If my calculations are correct, when this baby
hits 88 miles per hour... you're gonna see some serious s**t."

It's the characters and the way they're brought to life by the cast that really makes this film, though. Everybody raves, and rightly so, about Christopher Lloyd's madcap portrayal of Emmett "Doc" Brown – everything about it screams "mad professor" but he also brings buckets of heart to the role. Michael J. Fox is on fine form as the now iconic Marty McFly, a character of unlikely complexity. The support, in the form of Lea Thompson, the perfectly eccentric Crispin Glover and Tom Wilson are all spot on as well. I think the producers assembled pretty much the perfect cast, at the perfect time, for the perfect project.

Which brings me, finally, to my favourite moment. Marty's rendition of Chuck Berry's legendary Johnny B. Goode has become iconic in its own right and has been referenced countless times in pop culture. It also contains just one of many examples of the movie's razor-sharp wit and fantastic imagination – I think the much-quoted moment when "Marvin" calls up an alternate-reality, inspiration-deprived Chuck Berry is a stroke of genius. The sequence is a wonderful, supremely entertaining snippet, my personal highlight of a film full of them.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S1i5coU-0_Q

Back to the Future has rightly become a cultural touchstone, a shining example of how good old-fashioned Hollywood storytelling can produce magnificently entertaining, smart and funny movies, without pandering to the lowest common denominator.

Now that you know #10, feel free to try and predict the rest. I'd love to know how predictable (or not) I am. :p

Singin' in the Rain might be the only film that is more purely fun than Back to the Future. Easily one of the best musicals to come out of the Hollywood studio system, my favourite film of the 1950s and one of the most entertaining, heart-warming films ever made.

Gene Kelly was a great actor and a phenomenal dancer and his performance as Don Lockwood is probably his most sensational turn. He's brilliantly charming as the silent movie star in flux. The supporting players, too bring something unique and magnetic to each of their characters. The goofy charm of Donald O'Connor, whose Make 'em Laugh is a relic but no doubt an interesting one, showcasing his physical talents, and the cute-as-a-button Debbie Reynolds as the innocent but ambitiously strong-willed Kathy. The three of them have fantastic chemistry, perhaps never more apparent than in the wonderful Good Morning.

http://i.imgur.com/AYo3gOr.jpg

"You have to show a movie at a party. It's a Hollywood law."

The majority of the praise rightfully goes to the music, of course. It's a perfect musical, mixing the romantic, the upbeat, and the downright insane, conveying it all through beautifully written and, for a couple, now rightly-iconic songs. I'm certainly no expert or even, usually, an enthusiast when it comes to dance, but here, for some reason, I'm a sucker for it. The choreography is endlessly pleasing, and each actor brings something different to the table. Kelly's expertise, Reynolds' enthusiasm, and O'Connor's wild energy make for a fantastic combination. To that end not much is ever said about the narrative, but it's a lovely, simple one, a self-referential, somewhat meta one, a film about film, that allows for a lot of humour, as well as pathos, and sets up each musical number with a deft hand.

Maybe I'll try to add a video of a favourite scene or moment in every entry of my top ten, like I did with Back to the Future, if I can find something. Singin' in the Rain's titular number has burrowed itself deep into pop culture's subconscious, but my personal highlight is the wonderfully catchy, upbeat and energetic Good Morning.

Knowing where to start with this one is difficult because it's extremely hard to find a single aspect of Lawrence of Arabia that is anything less than brilliant, let alone sub-par. I guess the most obvious place is with the titular character. As extraordinarily unlikely as the film is, it may have crossed the line into downright impossible to make work without a scintillating character at the heart of it all. T. E. Lawrence might just be the most well-developed yet mysterious, most brilliantly conceived, perfectly written, and crucially, of course, most brilliantly-portrayed character in the history of film. Peter O'Toole is perfectly cast, and he brings an exciting rebelliousness and large helpings, but just enough, eccentricity and flamboyancy to him. In a long running time, we're treated to a perfectly arced rise and fall of the man, an epic emotional descent into egomania.

Visually, I don't think I've seen anything else so stunningly vibrant and technically accomplished. The images of the desert are awe-inspiring, capturing the vastness of the desert with remarkable skill, perhaps never more evident that in the famous "Mirage at the Well" scene. I can't find the source, but I think I'm paraphrasing Tarantino when I say that one of the great pleasures of film is experiencing the perfect match of image and music, and Lawrence of Arabia is the epitome of that idea. The match between the beautiful cinematography and Maurice Jarre's sensational score could not be better and evokes wonderful swells of emotion.

http://i.imgur.com/k6xG7HL.jpg

"Truly, for some men nothing is written unless they write it."

"Epic" is a word that's thrown about a lot these days but I think this and Gone with the Wind are among the few films that really deserve the title. As I mentioned, the look and feel of the film, the length and scale of the narrative provokes the use of the word but it's the complexity of its story, themes and characters that truly makes this an epic. It just deals with so much. So many characters come and go, each more riveting than the last. Bolt, Wilson and Lean pack an immense amount of material into the 216 minutes, but it never once feels poorly paced or loses my interest. It deals with themes as wide ranging as existential struggle, political conflict, the morality of war and national and personal identity.

A clip on YouTube will not do it justice but hopefully for those who haven't seen it, it'll give you a taste and maybe encourage you to see this miracle of a film for yourself. Please do.

Here's what I wrote about Before Sunrise in the movie tab back on April 8th of last year:

I'll labour through the fiddliness of writing a short review on my phone (only source of internet at the moment) because I felt like I needed to share some thoughts on this absolute gem. Without a supreme level of both dialogue scripting and chemistry between the leads, this film falls flat on its face. It's stunning to me how they managed to make it so enrapturing with such dialogue-heavy sequences but I found myself literally hanging on to every word, and what beautiful words they were. It walks a very thin line between actual intellectual and faux-intellectual, but at worst it's always believable and at its best, it borders on prophetic, commenting subtly on love and life itself. The atmosphere is palpable, the emotional impact enormous, and the 90 minutes flew by, just as Jesse and Celine's fleeting romance did. The sequel is on its way to me as we speak, I can only hope I enjoy it as much.

And about Before Sunset on the 12th:

Like the first installment, Before Sunset absolutely works as a standalone film, with all the charm, humour and emotional power of its predecessor. The chemistry between Hawke and Delpy seamlessly carries over even though the two films were made 9 years apart, and the superb script with Linklater's stream-of-consciousness dialogue and the subtle camera and editing techniques combine once again to produce a hyper-realistic experience.

It's not so much a follow up as a completion, as I realised part way through how incomplete Before Sunrise now feels with the addition of a second meeting. The same would be true, I think, had I only seen this one. There's something tiny lacking from both, and the simplest way I can put it is that they lack each other. Together they're the closest to a perfect romantic tale that I've seen.

As Jesse remarks at the start of the film, in the context of his book, ambiguity is a good test of whether a person is a romantic or a cynic. The film ends so suddenly that for a while I felt taken aback, but realised that the conclusion was simply echoing Jesse's sentiments from the very start. It's a perfect note to end on, really, as the utterance of those words, "I know", could mean so many things. For the cynics among us, the final moments must be strikingly similar to the first film. To the idealists and those with a more romantic view of the world, it's starkly different.

http://i.imgur.com/rjHfujW.jpg

"Memories are wonderful things, if you don't have to deal with the past."

My view of these films is no different now than it was back then. As romance, as drama, as deep meditations on the facets of existence, they're an absolute knockout - films that touch the heart and the mind. I love these films separately, but as a pair I adore them like few others, which is why they're the only "cheat" on my list. They work best together. Whether that changes with the addition of Before Midnight this year remains to be seen, but I do know I'm looking forward to it immensely.

The focus on atmosphere and self-contained observational vignettes worked around a fleeting platonic relationship make its plotlessness completely irrelevant.

Coppola shows remarkable confidence in a mellow, subtle yet beautifully artistic visual style, the cold technical prowess underlying a sharp eye for colour and detail recalling both representations of Japan itself and the nature of Bob and Charlotte's unlikely friendship.

http://i.imgur.com/6lAunj0.jpg

"You're probably just having a mid-life crisis. Did you buy a Porsche yet?"

And it's said friendship that drives the film along its melancholic, funny, and touching path. There's an surprisingly strong chemistry between Murray and Johansson that allows for a dynamic between the characters that reveals itself to be incredibly complex, thought-provoking, and meaningful. They are seemingly at almost opposite ends of the spectrum in everything surface-level - financially, physically, career-wise - but crucially, they are both found in the right place at the right time in the same lonely, misanthropic place emotionally and that allows them to connect on the deeper level than anything else.

Simply put, an incredibly heartfelt, impeccably acted and directed, bittersweet yet uplifting film that blows me away every time I see it.