20 From 76: My Favorite Films Of 1976

It only makes sense that after a film about the dust and grime that accumulates on one's vehicle after a rowdy cross country race with the law,
we follow it up with a movie about the business of removing said dust and grime from said country-crossed vehicle.



Car Wash's premise is basically a story about the various lives of people who work at a car wash.
And the thing 'bout workin' at the carwash, see, is that you might not ever get rich,
but let me tell ya, it's better that diggin' a ditch.
There ain't no tellin' who ya might meet.
Like a movie star. Or may be even an Indian Chief.

 Bugsy Malone was one the most ruthless gangsters that never lived. Because, basically, he was a fictional character. But if there ever was a movie that could tell the story of this nefarious mafioso that never was, it would be the one that is, ironically, named after him.
 And it utilizes the three conventions of cinema that are the most well suited to tell the infamous story of the infamous made-up made-man: child actors, music and whipped cream. Lotsa whipped cream.
 So much whipped cream as a matter of fact, that the Motion Picture Association of America was forced to slap a PG rating on this movie.
Something that the real Bugsy Malone, if he were ever real, would probably simply scoff at.

 Personally, I was never a big fan of early World War II movies with the exception of maybe The Longest Day and Tora! Tora! Tora!.
But Midway is a great example of taking an important military battle and depicting the grand scale of this real-life historical event on film, despite the obvious biased perspective to the American side (which was usually the standard back for war flicks, back then anyway...).
The fact that at certain points, the plot is able to focus on various aspects of the decision-making process, which would result in the manner that the battle would eventually unfold, helps in adding weight to the portrayal of those in military higher-ups who were instrumental in shaping this event.
Adding to the significance of the story is an ensemble cast of acting heavyweights of the time, including Charles "They-Don't-Get-Any-Bigger" Heston and Henry "Hey-I'm-Barbarella's-Dad" Fonda.

Due to an overhauling of the system, Precinct 13 is about to be closed down. The few officers straggling last minute duties before the doors are permanently closed soon find themselves locked in, however, as an attempted siege furiously unfolds from outside. A band made up of various members from rival gangs have pooled their numbers together, and have come a callin' with guns ablazin', in hopes of avenging their fallen comrades.



John Carpenter, before he becomes the horror-meister that he's famous for, directs his second film, using a theme that will end up being copycatted several times over by other movies in the future (The Nest, Raid, Dredd, The Square and on and on and on...).

America's bicentennial was a banner year for then-child film star Jodie Foster, for she had her name on three good movies that came out in 1976;
She was part of the cast of the creatively cool "children's adaptation" of Bugsy Malone, for which, of all the kid actors involved, she was the most well-received; She was also featured in Martin Scorcese's classic Taxi Driver, a role that has become a part of the overall iconography of cinema; And finally, she starred in The Little Girl Who Lives Down The Lane, which, as far as juvenile Jodie's performances go, is my favorite of the batch. I guess it's was mainly because, since she was playing the lead character, we got to see more of the young actress, who at the time, was displaying a certain level of maturity in her personality that was well above her age. And it was this pre-teen maturity which allowed her to pull off this tricky role (especially for a kid) as a little girl living in a house, apparently and mysteriously alone.



Co-star Martin Sheen, who made a name for himself playing "slightly" psychologically askewed characters in the 70's (Badlands and Apocalypse Now) is at his creepy best, as the stalking hebephiliac who is determined to ensnare this young lass who, for him, may just be too smart for her own good.

The third chapter into the series, The Enforcer is pretty much typical Dirty Harry fare, except now the rule bustin' antihero has a female partner.
However, despite being forced to side up with a quota filler for the Women's Lib Movement,
that doesn't stop Inspector Harold Francis Callahan from carrying a 70's machismo-sized chip on his shoulder. Nor does it keep him from dishing out justice with hand guns so big that, expecting him to stay within the lines,
well, you're gonna hafta be feelin' lucky
....punk.

Inarguably, the two most iconic figures in Western films are John Wayne and Clint Eastwood. And both of these actors, despite being able to stretch themselves in other kinds of roles, both starred in excellent cowboy films during their golden years (obviously, when I say golden, I mean when they were at a later age, not in reference to their careers, since golden means something different in that perspective) as aging gunfighters with dark pasts. 1992's Unforgiven was Eastwood's foray as an ex-gunslinging geezer, while for the Duke it was The Shootist, released in 1976.
It was Wayne's last film, and in it he portrays a ruff 'n' gruff cowpoke who is dying of cancer. He decides that, rather than withering away like the dusty decline that is transpiring in the former Wild West that he knew, he wishes to go out in a blaze of glory. Initiating steps that will lead to settling a few lingering scores, he prepares for what he hopes will be one last gun-blazing shoot-out.

The escapist fantasy of innocence that baseball tends to provide kids comes colliding with the realism of crushed spirits that tends to come with adulthood.
Oh, but with humor.



Always on the lookout to make some extra beer money, a big loser sees a chance in a bunch of little losers who take up the very last spot in the "minor" leagues with "bearly" any prospects to improve their standings. After the addition of a pitcher who, despite being a girl, doesn't throw like one, and a hog ridin' future Hall-of-Famer (that is, if he beats the odds and doesn't go to prison first), all these losers, big and small, come together to make up a team of players who are just plain bad news.
A bitchin' and blemished baseball movie starring Walter Matthau (doing what he does best) and Oscar winning Tatum O'Neal (doing what she does best).
Not to mention that one kid who would eventually grow up to be Rorschach.
And the second incarnation of Freddy Krueger.

Throughout the seventies, Gene Wilder and Richard Pryor were two comedians whose individuals stars were rising at skyrocketing speed. Then someone came along and decided to pair Wilder's ivory Brook-farce antics with Pryor's ebony-edged street-savvy. And as a result, 1976 saw the first of four Wilder/Pryor movie collaborations.
This Murder on the Mid-Western Express missive is usually considered by many as the best of the Gene & Richard comedy vehicles, and for me, it definitely rolls as my favorite of the G'n'R laff-along rides.

Alice, Sweet Alice is a movie that was fortunate enough to have come out when it did.
At the time, the genre of the slasher flick hadn't taken root yet.
Therefore, sexual boundaries had not yet been set as to what gender one must be in order to establish one's as a murderously relentless, knife welding, masked maniac.



And even though we do see the occasional feminine face lurking behind a bladed weapon aimed at carving it's fair share of cadres of corpses, in today's world, the slashing game still seems to be mostly a boy's club.

Take the name "Dirty Harry" and replace it with "Josey Wales". Take out the "modern-day morally-deprived punks" out of the plot and put in a "Social-Conscious of National Regret" instead. Now change the "1970's" to the "1870's", and switch the "big hefty handguns" with "long-ass six-shooters". And what you end up with is an Old West hard-edged cowboy in place of a new West hard-edged street-cop. But with the same high level of Eastwood badassery.

This movie continues the great tradition begun with Rosemary's Baby, and then masterfully followed up with The Exorcist as the Devil himself is seriously depicted, though never shown, in a manner that is genuinely intended to keep even the most heartily-minded awake at night.
As in those earlier works, in The Omen, Satan is the unseen antagonist who uses a human in the form of a child to dote out his diabolical deeds of death, despair and destruction.



Y'know, for me, there's something about the 70's era that seems to really lend itself to the atmosphere of hellish dread that are these types of films. Maybe it's because since this was the decade in which "movie realism" had finally come to touch the ground (evidenced thru the films of actors like Dustin Hoffman and Al Pacino), the monster genre had really started to become a caricature of itself, many times to the point of being cartoonishly silly. Therefore, one of the few avenues of true horror left was to those that focused the evil that resulted from the more sins of man, which of course can be personified best by he who most represents it, ol' Lucifer hisself.
Or maybe it's just because such evil could only come from the decade that was also responsible for polyester suits, platform shoes and dancing Travolta movies.
Whatever the reason,
The Omen carries with it a new-found injection of horror that rattled our nerves more on a biblical sense of hopelessness than thru the fear of a Hollywood-spawned rubber-suited creature of which many movie-viewers had become largely desensitized to at this point.

I'll be honest with you guys ....
even tho this is a movie that kinda makes me want to yell out it's most famous quote,
the truth is, when I actually think about it,
I'm not really all that mad.
And I could probably take a little more.

 Outside of his one acting role in Steven Spielberg's alien blockbuster Close Encounters of The Third Kind, famed French director Francois Truffaut never had much of break-out career in the mainstream market. That's because, as this film demonstrates, he was never the mainstream kind of guy when it came to making movies. However, as many hardcore film connoisseurs who are familiar with his work will attest, his contribution to the medium of cinema is pretty significant, particularly as a forerunner of the French New Wave movement from the 50's and 60's that preceded the New Hollywood movement that was occurring in, well, y'know.... Hollywood.



 L'Argent de poche, which in English, translates into Pocket Money, but is called Small Change on the U.S. side of the market, is one Truffaut's later works and one his most popular.  While all the French film title as well as the two English are fitting to the premise of this movie, in my personal opinion, Small Change is the one that fits the best as this features not so much a linear storyline than it does a series of vignettes that are sewn together by the central theme of childhood life lessons, some which come off as playful, while others, not so much.
  L'Argent is considered as somewhat of a small milestone in Francois' career in that it is a piece of everyday expressionism that sort of displays the accumulation of his particular brand of distinctive filmmaking. Small Change is a revelation of the director's ability to connect different episodes of childlike spontaneity and behavior and film them in an order that, along with the few bits of intersected, scripted dialogue from adults, allows all the various  pieces to coagulate into a cohesive work of cinema that follows a typical day in the classroom and the many mountain climbing micro-challenges that can shape a kid's view of the world. And with its combo of light laughter and display of elementary level growing pains, L'Arbent de poche does so in a very warm way that chimes at the heart while also reminding us of the daily obstacles that come from going to school in the earliest years of one's life.

Honestly,
I don't know what Carrie's big deal was with the pig's blood an' all.
I mean, at least she had a date for the prom.
There was no need to be such a psychokinetic bitch about it.
Then again....
now that I think about...
when you see how much of a bitch her mom was,
maybe she just can't help it.
It's in her blood.

For this movie, all I need to know is one thing....
Is it safe?

Not only is Deep Throat a codename for a central figure in All The President's Men, it's also the name of one of the first x-rated flix I ever watched, back when puberty was knocking at my adolescence.
Now here I am, years later, wasting my life away in front of the computer, if not spending vast amounts of time downloading onion booty porn,
then I'm either posting up classless ghetto girlfight videos on youtube
or I'm here on this site, aimlessly commiseratin' with all of my fellow Listophiles.
So, yeah....
I know exactly where that particular "left turn" was that led me down the empty road of existance that is currently my life.

Which I know has almost next to nothing to do with this movie, but I guess that term "Deep Throat" sparked off a nerve or something.

Anyways,
back to the list.....

 In my opinion, this was the first film to establish Robert Deniro's onscreen persona and his distinctive method of acting that he's known for, even up until to this day.
And that's probably more due to the film's director, Martin Scorsese, and his particular brand of directing. Scorsese really seemed to know when to allow Deniro's mannerisms to freight this portrayal of a cab driver whose loneliness in the vast sea of grime that was '70's era New York City was consuming him to the point of razor-edged madness.
  It was an acting freedom that Scorsese used to maximum effect, and which also allowed the supporting roles of Jodie Foster, Cybil Sheperd, Harvey Keitel, Albert Brooks and Peter Boyle to bring the depth of character that they were each able to contribute to the film (particularly, Foster and Keitel).
While Martin Scorsese is more famous for his movies that delve into the mafia lifestyle, I feel that his talent for depicting the grit of the streets, particularly of this time-period, cannot be understated and is what really carries the feel and weight of this story. Taxi Driver is a true staple in the decade of 70's films, and a piece of high quality and expressive cinema that I really enjoy watching over and over again.

 And yeah....
I'm talking to you.

 Even though the very first Rocky film endeared a lot of movie fans for its underdog premise and simpleton charm, still, it got a flak from other movie fans for beating out other Oscar contenders like All the President's Men and Taxi Driver, at the 49th Academy Awards. Now, while I tend to agree with the general consensus that maybe those films deserved to win "the belt" for that year, the truth is that I still consider Rocky to be my favorite movie of 1976.
 There are several reasons for this, but I would have to say that one of the main ones is just the connection of nostalgia I have to it. I remember watching this first installment of the Italian Stallion franchise as a when I was just a kid in elementary/primary school, and even at an age when I believed that the female side of our species was rife with cooties, I still found myself just absolutely adoring the love story between the two "loser" leads of this story. The painfully shy pet shop attendant, Adrian, and the slow-witted boxer/leg-breaker, Rocky. On top of that, this was probably the first movie I can ever watched up to that point that me leaning within inches of the television screen (I saw it back when it was first aired on TV) because watching the climatic boxing match at the end felt like I was watching an actual boxing match.
  This tale of the underdog southpaw's journey towards the love of his life and towards the fight of his life just seemed to be able to kickstart all the right heartstrings inside of me, that even to this day, I still tend to feel a slight jitter in my chest whenever I watch this flick.
 Either that, or at my age, maybe I've begun to develop some kind a heart murmur. Who knows?