Fail-Safe was my #12. I expected it to place at least thirty spots higher, but I guess the low placement is fitting for a film that has always been unjustly overshadowed by its satirical brother. The two films -- Fail-Safe and Dr. Strangelove -- make a great double feature. Same premise, vastly different tones. I guess there's something to be said for taking the piss out of nuclear warfare, as Kubrick did, by illustrating the absurdity of war and reducing us to cartoonish buffoons hellbent on destroying ourselves, but grinning sardonically at mutually assured destruction also runs the risk of trivializing the matter. Fail-Safe, on the other hand, brings to life the horrors and the paranoia of the Cold War better than any other film I've seen. It makes me glad that I wasn't alive during that time period. The stark black-and-white cinematography mirrors the bleak tone of the film. Despite the global repercussions of the plot, the film maintains a restricted, constrained, claustrophobic atmosphere, instilling in viewers the same helpless feeling of impending, inescapable doom as the characters on screen. I'm amazed by how much tension and suspense Sidney Lumet was able to squeeze out of something as deceptively simple as Henry Fonda sitting in a room with a phone. The ending, with the words, "The matador . . . the matador," echoing like a prelude to Colonel Kurtz's, "The horror . . . the horror," is bold and haunting and devastating. I've seen people say that a president would never make such an eye-for-an-eye decision, but those people are far more optimistic than I am. Fail-Safe is as pessimistic as any film you'll find, and that's partly why I love it.
Knife in the Water was my #16. It's one of three Polanski films to make my list (so suck it, Rodent! ). I wasn't sure if it would crack the Countdown or not, so I'm very pleased to see it on here. People have said that the film is a political statement, but I know nothing about the political nature of Poland in 1962, so that aspect is lost on me. Not that it matters, of course, because Knife in the Water is brilliant on multiple levels. Visually, the film is stunning. Polanski proves in his debut that he was born to be a filmmaker. Every shot is gorgeous. The majority of the film takes place on a sailboat, yet the camera never feels restricted. I rarely pay attention to things like framing techniques when watching a film, but the technical aspect of Knife in the Water is so masterful that it's impossible not to notice such details. The same can be said for the excellent jazz score, which perfectly accentuates the mood and underlying tension. Knife in the Water is a deeply psychological film with a minimalistic approach. It is a film of things unspoken, things implied, where motivations are more important than actions. On my first watch, I wasn't sure if the film would end with a threesome or a floating corpse. Both outcomes seemed equally plausible. The whole thing is fascinating and mesmerizing to watch. There are many reasons why I love this film: the sexual tension, the male posturing, the mind games, the ominous sense of danger lurking beneath the surface . . . the recurring symbolism, like the retractable knife, a phallic symbol, around which much of the confrontation revolves . . . the thoughtful ambiguity, exemplified by the crossroads ending . . . not to mention an attractive woman in a revealing bikini for the majority of the run-time (). Like the best literature, Knife in the Water is a film that lends itself expertly to discussion and analysis, making it a rewarding film that reveals more and more of its subtleties with every viewing. It's also one of the first foreign films I watched when I first started exploring the wider world of cinema, which probably plays a small part in why I hold this film in such high esteem. I think it's pretty damn close to a masterpiece.
My List So Far:
#12) Fail-Safe
#16) Knife in the Water