Chicago — I’m not typically one for musicals, and I know that I’m not alone out there. I might have grown up on Disney — and Sweeney Todd is still my favorite Tim Burton movie — but they always feel so put-on: unrealistically winking and nodding at the audience and breaking any sense of immersion or pacing that it built up over its talking parts. Very little seem worth the extra effort put into them, and most feel like they use their toe-tappingly catchy song-and-dance routines to make up for subpar acting writing and direction.
In all respects, however, Chicago is different. Framing its musical numbers as imagined asides to the action going on in front of the camera, it feels real in a way that few other movies can pull off, regardless of how hyper-stylized it becomes in the process. The songs are fantastic, the acting is beyond reproach and it has a look and feel to it entirely unlike other movies of its vein.
E.T.: The Extraterrestrial — There’s nothing out there quite like a Spielberg movie. No matter what the subject is, no matter when it was made, there’s always a particular brand of wonder that the man brings to the table. Even a “lesser” Spielberg effort like E.T. — and I know I’ll be blasted for calling everybody’s favorite childhood classic a “lesser” version of anything — is inescapably the kind of film that only he could make.
In recent years, though, other directors have tried, to mixed success. Even after E.T. vanishes from the streaming service, Stranger Things — the Netflix original series and all-around successor to the iconic alien adventure — will be around to pick up the slack. And while it doesn’t have Spielberg’s trademark charm and whimsy, it does capture that same sense of childhood wonderment, though perhaps with a darker, more sinister edge. Even so, given how hard the last two years have been for so many people, an easy crowd-pleaser like E.T. will be desperately missed.
Forrest Gump — Back in 1994, Oscar voters really did have the pick of the litter when it came to Best Picture contenders. The popular choice was always The Shawshank Redemption: a riveting prison drama based on a Stephen King novella. Pulp Fiction captured an edgy, work-a-day energy that was infectiously original in 1990s Hollywood (although it was commonplace in many other parts of the world). The winner, however, turned out to be Forest Gump: a feel-good dramady starring the ineffably likable Tom Hanks as a mentally challenged man overcoming every obstacle put in front of him.
Although the movie has taken a critical beating in recent years for its conservative take on the free-spirited 1960s and 70s, uncomfortable historical revisionism and “ignorance is bliss” moralizing, it remains one of the most innately likeable movies ever to hit theaters. Its acting is impeccable and its script, while problematic, does capture a breadth of time that has since proven almost impossible to replicate. And while it does often fail at what it sets out to accomplish, it admirably tries and effortlessly pulls at our heartstrings along the way.
Futurama Seasons 7-10 — When it comes to animated sitcoms, we really are a spoiled lot. After the unparalleled success of The Simpsons, every animator and his grandma tried replicating their one-of a kind formula for success, to varying degrees of success. As a result, we’ve had a spectacular canon of high-end shows churned out for the past three decades, from Family Guy to American Dad to South Park to Bob’s Burgers to Archer to Rick and Morty.
The king of these pretenders to the Groening throne, however, was his immediate follow-up to The Simpsons: the far-flung, futuristic sitcom Futurama. While its forebear nailed down the strictly comedic, Futurama was able to branch off into increasingly imaginative, dramatic and bitter-sweet storylines, deftly developing its characters over ten seasons and two cancelations. And although the later seasons never quite lived up to the perfection of its initial run, it nevertheless recaptured its unique, pioneering spirit and ended on a perfect, heart-swelling finale.
Gremlins — Growing up, my dad hated any movie that questioned the existence of Santa Claus. He was always worried that us kids would catch on to the adult world tipping its hat at what we accepted as a fundamental truth of childhood. And while The Santa Clause, Miracle on 34thStreet and even A Christmas Story all made him cringe for our lost childhood innocence, none vexed him more than Gremlins did.
In the movie, the small town love interest of our dopey protagonist hates Christmas. She’s kind and compassionate and everything you could want in life except for her insistent loathing of the holiday, which goes unexplained until shaken loose by the film’s titular menace.
Like all children, she originally loved the holiday: from the twinkling lights to the decked-out trees to the countless presents tied off with bows. Everything changed when her father disappeared one Christmas Eve, however. After weeks of searching to no avail, the family smells something rotting in the chimney. Instead of pulling out a dead mouse or bird like they had assumed, they pulled out her father. Dressed up as Santa, arms loaded with presents, he slipped and snapped his neck trying to surprise his kids on Christmas Eve. Dark stuff for a PG-rated Spielberg movie.
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