As you will see, my choices are on the whole rather fluffy, but these are the films that I return to time and time again for comfort, or as a way to reset my brain. I’d be very interested to find out if any of my favorites align with any of your own – please let me know in the comments below!

Without further ado, in no particular order, and no ratings (because they are all 10s), let’s get cracking!

Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981)

Who’s in it?

Harrison Ford, Karen Allen, John Rhys-Davies, Paul Freeman

What’s it about?

A professor of archaeology has a side hustle stealing cultural artifacts under the pretense that they belong in a museum, but redeems himself by punching a lot of Nazis.

Why do I love it?

Following the surprise success of a small, independent space movie he had been in, I was a huge Harrison Ford fan, and even shelled out pocket money for two more of his films in the cinema, with mixed results (Force 10 From Navarone (1978) and Hanover Street (1978)). Suddenly, Indiana Jones was presented to the world, and I was blown away. I ended up going to see it on the big screen many, many times (I want to say 14 times, but that seems a bit excessive).

Raiders truly is the perfect action film; the pacing is spot on, the action sequences are thrilling, the music is stirring, and the leads are gorgeous. That said, I want to focus on just one aspect of the production, the sound design. Whenever I think about the film, the first thing that pops into my head is the sound of Indy’s Smith & Wesson during that first brawl in the Nepalese bar. It is a booming sound, a meaty sound, richly layered like being slapped around the face with a sock full of semolina in an echo chamber. Then there are the satisfying punch sounds as Indy throws fists at anyone with an accent. The crunch of orbital bone and the squelch of nose cartilage mingle with the deep resonance of a bowling ball being hurled at a pig carcass. Don’t even get me started on the delightfully mechanical stuttering of a biplane’s engine, or the dinosaur roar of the German convoy truck.

A visual and audible treat and yes, a perfect film.

La Grande Bouffe (1973)

Who’s in it?

Marcello Mastroianno, Ugo Tognazzi, Michel Piccoli, Philippe Noiret

What’s it about?

Four friends have made a pact that they will come together after they have achieved personal pinnacles in their chosen fields, and eat themselves to death. They follow through with this grotesque promise by reuniting in a remote villa owned by one of the men. There they gorge themselves on sumptuous feats prepared by one of them who is a famous chef, satisfy their sexual appetites with a trio of prostitutes and a welcoming school teacher, and indeed die in a flurry of excess and pathos.

Why do I love it?

We all have our favourite food-themed movies. Mine include the noodle-vacuuming lunacy of Tampopo (1985), the silky seductiveness of Chocolat (2000), and the utter joy of cooking in the last great Pixar film, Ratatouille (2007). However, it is La Grande Bouffe (‘The Big Blowout’ for those of you who wisely avoid foreign languages) that I think about most often. It is a profoundly sad film, yet stuffed like a goose liver with debauchery, excess, bosoms, and fart gags.

The idea that these four men who have reached the tops of their chosen fields (all played by actors who were all at some point in the careers seen as the best in their profession) would choose to quit while ahead by stuffing themselves to the point of death sounds ridiculously morbid, and yet we are swept along by their passion for the preparation and consumption of food, and their insatiable sexual appetites. The food is sumptuous, the knockers plump, and the deaths strangely moving; it’s almost like watching a quartet of toddlers go too far.

One scene I will never forget is when Michel (Piccoli) has eaten so much that he is suffering from severe indigestion and can’t move. The others hoist him and spoon-feed him creamed potato, forcing it into his gullet until he finally expires in a blast of gas and excrement. Ruined bangers and mash for me for life.

Captain Kronos: Vampire Hunter (1973)

Who’s in it?

Horst Jansen, John Cater, Caroline Munro, John Carson

What’s it about?

Captain Kronos (Jansen) and his accomplice, Professor Hieronymus Grost (Cater) are professional vampire hunters, their reputation preceding them across the lands stricken by various acts of wickedness by the undead. They are recruited by a village that has been plagued by murders, usually young women, all of whom have been found rapidly aged.

Realizing they are searching for a vitality-draining vampire, the hunters begin their investigations around the village, picking up a Romani woman, Carla (Munro), who had been placed in the stocks for dancing. Their investigation eventually leads them to the family home of Lady Durwood and her kin, and so begins an adventure fraught with danger and bravado.

Why do I love it?

Oh, what could have been. Captain Kronos was my Indiana Jones before ark raiding was a thing, and in a better, alternate universe, this movie would go on to spawn four more sequels and a beloved TV spin-off. Alas, nobody at the time knew what to make of it, and it is only recently that I have been gifted continued stories through books and comics.

Kronos is the perfect amalgamation of everything Hammer did best; swashbuckling sword fights, bright red goopy blood, sexy vampires, and detailed lore. Indeed, it is the lore of the film, and Grost’s constant explanations of their vampire hunting/killing methods, that I enjoy the most. Bells, toads, and iron crosses feature heavily, and I love the tried and tested combination of scientific reference combined with hack and slash that makes Kronos and Gorst such a formidable team.

Jansen, though he had to be dubbed by Julian Holloway, is the perfect blond-haired, blue-eyed hero, seemingly virtuous and above temptation, and a great foil for Cater’s hunchbacked, twittering Gorst. This was written and directed by the great Brian Clemens, the brains behind The Avengers (1961-1969), The Persuaders! (1971-1972), and The Professionals (1977-1983), among other British action staples. Kronos is shot through with his signature camp adventure and high-concept madness and, judging by their current output, will remain my favourite Hammer film for a long, long time.

Oh, and here’s Caroline Munro again. Not for the last time!

Brazil (1985)

Who’s in it?

Jonathan Price, Robert De Niro, Kin Greist, Michael Palin

What’s it about?

Sam Lowry (Price) is an employee of Information Processing, little more than a drone in the vast machinations of a totalitarian regime. When he spots a clerical error, which should be unthinkable, he sets out to right the wrong, but gets sucked into a dystopian nightmare through confusion, coincidence and mass paranoia. His only escape from this hellish reality is through his dreams where he encounters the love of his life, who turns out to be real flesh and blood. Before he can act on this however, he is caught up in a revolutionary war against the regime, and must negotiate a minefield of bureaucracy and torture.

Why do I love it?

Easily my favourite Terry Gilliam film, and that’s saying something, Brazil was one of those films that truly transported me when I saw it in the cinema to a world both familiar and terrifying. In 1985 I was finishing art school and was confronted with the challenge of finding a creative job in Thatcher’s Britain when the creative sector was seen as a waste of time. I did indeed do my fair share of time in soulless buildings and cubicles and, like Lowry, often daydreamed of escaping.

Brazil hit the spot when it was needed; a glorious stew of savage criticism of the current government, surreal absurdity, and the glorious strains of Ary Barroso’s 1939 tune, ‘Aquarela do Brasil’ (or just ‘Brazil’ as we know it). This tune has such a hold on me to this day. I have it in my driving playlist, and whenever it kicks in I feel elation, flying with Sam on silver wings through the clouds, and then despair when I remember the ending and the echoing whistle of the song.

As a fan of German Expressionism, tiny cars, and architecture with clean lines, the film’s style is entirely my bag, and Gilliam does an extraordinary job of juxtaposing the harsh blues and greys of Sam’s existence with the soft rose-gold hues of his dreams. I recently had the opportunity to take my teenage son to a screening of Brazil in a local cinema, and it fair brought a tear to my eye when he proclaimed it was ‘the best film he’d seen’, and ‘why don’t they make films like this any more?’ I should probably introduce him to some Yorgos Lanthimos movies…

True Stories (1986)

Who’s in it?

David Byrne, John Goodman, Swoosie Kurtz, Spalding Gray

What’s it about?

Byrne is a wide-eyed, optimistic narrator who guides us through the fictional town of Virgil in Texas as its residents prepare for their 150th anniversary celebration. Byrne introduces us to various characters, including Louis Fyne (Goodman), a kind-hearted bear of a man who is looking for love, Civic representative Earl Culver (Gray), who has a bizarre relationship with his wife, Miss Rollings (Kurtz), a woman who never leaves her bed, and many other eccentric folk. We are along for the ride as Byrne chats to these characters, often invited into their homes, and listens to their stories, and a picture of the entire town is slowly painted through a series of interconnected vignettes. A comforting slice of small town Americana, True Stories weaves its threads together into a final festival of joy and music.

Why do I love it?

Big fan of Talking Heads here, however, it’s not the music in this movie that floats my boat (in fact I only really like a couple of the tracks), instead it is David Byrne’s open joy, bordering on naivety, as he describes the history of Virgil, Texas, and the inhabitants within.

He is a non-judgemental narrator, introducing us to characters and their quirks without disparaging anyone, and is an empathetic sounding board for folks to express their issues and desires. He comes at every new snippet of information with a child-like enthusiasm, and it is infectious. It’s sometimes easy to forget that anonymous cynicism and hatred existed back in the days before the internet, but this film was an antidote for that. Instead of standing at a grocery store checkout and dismissing the headlines in the more sensational tabloids with a sneer, Byrne challenges us to embrace the strange, and seek out the moments of love and acceptance hidden between the type.

The highlight for me is the fashion show in the mall, featuring an increasingly bizarre range of costumes modelled by amateur locals, all to the tune of ‘Dream Operator’ sung by Anne McEnroe as Kay Culver. Lord knows why, but it makes me weepy. The beauty of the song, the celebration of human creativity, and the vacuous artificiality of it all really gets to me.

Plus John Goodman is so vulnerable and charming in this. You can’t help but want a happy ending for Louis the Bear.

Previous Murky Movie surveys from Neil Baker include:

My Top Thirty Films, Part 1
My Top Thirty Films, Part 2
My Top Thirty Films, Part 3
My Top Thirty Films, Part 4
My Top Thirty Films, Part 5
My Top Thirty Films, Part 6
The Star Warses
Just When You Thought It Was Safe
Tech Tok
The Weyland-Yutaniverse
Foreign Bodies
Mummy Issues
Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes
Monster Mayhem
It’s All Rather Hit-or-Mythos
You Can’t Handle the Tooth
Tubi Dive
What Possessed You?

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See all of Neil Baker’s Black Gate film reviews here. Neil spends his days watching dodgy movies, most of them terrible, in the hope that you might be inspired to watch them too. He is often asked why he doesn’t watch ‘proper’ films, and he honestly doesn’t have a good answer. He is an author, illustrator, teacher, and sculptor of turtle exhibits.