Aguirre, the Wrath of God directed by Werner Herzog: A harrowing film, admirable nearly as much for the sheer ambition that went into filming it as for the film itself. The narrative involves a company of Spanish conquistadors on an imperiled search for El Dorado. The film plumbs the depths of hubris and obssession and contains some of the most astonishing shots ever committed to celluloid, including one that effectively reduces humanity to little more than an ant-trail. To first-time viewers, comparisons to Apocalypse Now may be inevitable. A first-rate soundtrack by Popol Vuh is a plus as well.

La Jetee directed by Chris Marker: Sometimes considered more a film essayist than traditional director, Marker forged a half-hour film that is dazzling, unsettling and deeply thoughtful, even as it is, really, a post-apocalyptic sci-fi adventure and love story. I'm not sure if I should reveal the most salient characteristic of this film; it would be giving something essential away. Let's just say that it takes huge liberties with the basic assumptions of the medium itself; a risky proposition, but one that works. It's a briliant experiment rich in theoretical implication that raises a lot of questions...even as it is enfolds classic ideas of narrative. It was the inspiration behind Terry Gilliam's Twelve Monkeys.

Sunset Boulevard directed by Billy Wilder: I've sometimes thought that this is the perfect film: propelled by sterling narrative, it works on many levels. Nearly as much about film and storytelling themselves as it is vanity, age and death, this noir classic wears its darkness lightly, wielding a shimmering comic edge of wit and intelligence. An essential film I think, by anyone's reckoning.

Once Upon a Time in the West directed by Sergio Leone: Leone's masterpiece. Distinct from other westerns in its scope and grandeur, it tells an epic tale of avarice, love, faith, rememberance and forgetting. The opening sequence is a gem, and the closing gunfight an unparalleled exercise in tension, where time seems to go elastic. Time figures into the film in a crucial way, and Leone consumes vast tracts of it. Shot to the soundtrack by Ennio Morricone, the film evinces a certain musicality in its pacing through movements, from lento to allegretto to presto and so forth. A final touch of excellence is the casting: amongst fellow players who are uniformly great, Henry Fonda plays a merciless killer, his blue eyes sparkling under the brim of his black hat. Epic stuff.

To Live directed by Zhang Yimou: Rich in metaphor and deeply immersed in history, To Live takes a panoramic view of a couple's fortunes and misfortunes through the profound upheavals of 20th Century China, reflecting on privelage and privation and the consequences of choice and habit. Exquisitely composed and shot in a Realist fashion, it's a finely wrought and open-hearted film that's hugely affecting. Not generally considered as towering a film as some of its predecessors, I feel it's his most completely moving film.