This isn’t meant to be a list of classic films. In fact, many classics would find it difficult to creep on to this list. These films don’t have to have bemusing screenplays, flawless acting, blood-pumping soundtracks, or brilliant cinematography. But they are all linked by that special je ne sais quoi which makes me able to watch them time and time again. That isn’t to say there aren’t plenty of great movies that share this rather dubious accolade. I could and would watch many of them again, but the experience is always be somewhat diminished from that initial viewing.

The films on this list, however, have something special that gives them enduring longevity. It’s not the film itself but the film experience that counts. With the intricacies of the plot laid bare, the twists, turns, shocks and surprises all blunted by experience, what’s left is whatever ethos the film can conjure up. Which is precisely what some cult classics manage so successfully. Umberto Eco once wrote that “Casablanca became a cult movie because it is not one movie. It is “movies”.” ((Umberto Eco, Travels in Hyperreality, (London, 1986), p. 208.)) His point was that the film itself wasn’t any particular gem, but it encapsulated what movie-goers expected to see. The lines were famous before they were spoken, perhaps the most famous line of all being the one that wasn’t even in it (“Play it again, Sam”). But films that are able to do that go on to be remembered long after they’re made, irrespective of their individual merits and the quality of their cinematography, acting or screenplay.

This is simply a list of films that qualify merely on account of springing to mind first when considering what makes a film rewatchable. They’re mostly quite mainstream, with a heavy slant on the action side, no doubt in part because drama is a singularly poor trait for repeat value. But they are foremost a very personal example, and I doubt whether others will share even a portion of their number.

James Bond series

Bond

This is of course a complete cheat entry, as there are more films here than in the rest of the list put together. Nevertheless, the series is a perfect representation of what I mean by a film ethos somehow entirely separate from its content. In fact, the film ethos is so far separated from the material, that there is no real storyline threading the films together—one could go as far as to say the films do better being stood in isolation than seen as part of a series. The contradictions are numerous, the plots often bear scant relation to one another, with hardly ever a reference to what went before or what will come after. How else could so many actors have played multiple roles in the series?

The Bond films are an encapsulation of fantasy and escapism, the same as their belletrist predecessors. The third Fleming novel, Moonraker, was less well received in comparison to the other Bond outings, primarily because it is set entirely in England, and without the exotic locations that characterise so many of Bond’s adventures, the book lost some of its charm. The films endear to precisely those same principles, and would in a sense be incomplete without the clever gadgets, fast cars, racy women, wicked villains and so on. That’s not to say that each film is a carbon copy of the others, merely that watching a Bond film is entirely akin to unwrapping a chocolate bar: the experience will be entirely what you expect.

Although the films are not in themselves particularly bad, there is nevertheless plenty to criticise. The plotlines are often genuinely ludicrous, the villains are cardboard cutouts, and Bond himself, despite the change of actors and the seemingly unaged complexion after nearly 60 years of service, is a great ball of clichés. Which is curiously entirely to the series’ credit. Bond can find himself challenged by a chess Grand Master, a karate world champion, or a marathon race through the desert against a camel, and he will come through looking as though he were about to attend the embassy ball. As Raymond Chandler put it, “Bond is what every man would like to be and what every woman would like to have between her sheets.” That just about sums up one of the greatest figures in cinema’s history.

Indiana Jones & The Last Crusade

Indy

Indiana Jones & The Last Crusade was the film which started this list. One idle Sunday afternoon when I should probably have been mowing grass, revising for exams, or generally doing something vaguely productive, I had a flick through the TV guide and noticed this film was on. Before another thought popped into my head, the TV was on, my feet were up, and a mug of hot tea had magically appeared on the table beside me.

This film certainly bears plenty of relation to the previous entry. The most obvious link is that the character of Indiana Jones was modeled to a large extent on that of James Bond. Adequate reason to have ’the father of Bond’, Sean Connery, play Indiana Jones’ father in this outing. This extra dollop of charisma on top of Harrison Ford’s already powerful on-screen presence was probably what made this film the best in the series in my opinion. But the film series in general also shared much in common with its Bond inspiration, including the characteristics of its tough and endearing hero, the exotic locations, evil villains (plundering the Nazi legend for all its worth), and plenty of stunning action sequences, lightly peppered with short comedy elements. Even the formula James Bond intro sequence, that had little if anything to do with the main plot, was incorporated into the series.

Whilst the film offers nothing truly spectacular in comparison to many other films of the action/adventure category, nevertheless it built upon a successful heritage and represents one of the best in the genre. The story is solid enough that the film doesn’t simply feel like a collection of action sequences flimsily strung together, although if we’re honest, the film might just as well be described as a visual rollercoaster. John Williams’ accompanying music provides one of the most recognisable signature tunes, and as I’ve mentioned elsewhere on this blog, the ending provides one of the most satisfyingly cheesy farewells in cinematic history.

Duel

Duel

Should you already have pictured what the rest of this list would look like, Duel probably wouldn’t have figured among many people’s guesses. This low budget and innocuous little film has earned the acclaim of having established Steven Spielberg’s career, as the first of three TV movies he produced for Universal Studios.

Quite how I’ve managed to watch this film more than once is rather a surprise to me, given that I think every time I’ve noticed the film broadcast it has started at some unreasonably small hour in the morning. Nevertheless, the film has a certain charm about it that makes it so readily watchable. The simplicity of the story—a commuter on a lonely road finds himself harassed to the point of attempted murder by the unknown driver of an articulated truck—nevertheless fills the film’s 90 minute runtime nicely. With only one real character, and the open road for most of the filming, watching it is something akin to experiencing the thoughts of a man having a nightmare. The viewer literally is David Mann, murderously pursued by a great hulking truck for no apparent reason, attempting to find some kind of compromise, solution or escape.

Whilst elsewhere described rather nicely as a cross between a road movie and a monster film, Duel somehow has a satisfying, almost calming effect watching it. Perhaps it’s the TV equivalent of staring into a burning fire. Or perhaps it’s just a damn good film.

Clue

“Communism was just a red herring.”

Clue

If you’ve ever seen Murder by Death and had your hopes disappointed, I should hope Clue would provide adequate remedy. Based on the boardgame Cluedo, the story revolves around a (multiple) murder mystery in a large mansion, with the classic game elements—the weapons, the rooms, the secret passages—rather forcibly woven into the story. Whether you consider it a send-up of the murder mystery genre or a spoof on the boardgame, either way Clue is most definitely a comedy.

Yet the success of the film isn’t particularly to do with its story, script or the level of comedy. By themselves, none of these elements would prove much of a boon, although each in its own right is perfectly adequate to the task. The reason Clue works so well, where Murder by Death failed so miserably is through simple, good-natured fun. This combination of a simple plot, a decent screenplay, a little light music refreshment, and some decent acting makes it work, and where it succeeds most of all is in how it engages the viewer. It succeeds in creating a great atmosphere full of light-hearted shenanigans and dry humour. The script is pretty amusing on its own, but the efforts of the cast, and the combination of the music and setting serve to make it thoroughly hilarious. Tim Curry honestly deserves a medal for the energy he put into his performance, easily his best outside of The Rocky Horror Picture Show .

For all its merits, the film was rather unsuccessful, though it enjoys a significant cult following. One of the more interesting aspects of the film was its employment of true multiple endings, with only one being shown, dependent on the cinema. Naturally all of the endings are available on the DVD release. Yet it would be interesting to imagine what might have happened had Clue enjoyed more box office success. It’s not uncommon for films to feature half-hearted extra endings on the DVD editions these days, though these really tend to be more of a gimmicky extra than anything else.

Ultimately, the proof that Clue works so well as a film is in the rewatching. Despite knowing all the jokes, all the slapstick, every twist and turn, the film is frankly still as funny, cheerful and enjoyable as the first time round. With a few drinks and a few friends, it’s a great way to spend an evening!

Top Gun

Top Gun

“It’s too close for missiles. I’m switching to guns!”

This film wouldn’t normally make it onto a list of films I like, but it makes it onto this one for the number of times I’ve actually been persuaded to watch it. Top Gun is the true blue cheese of cheesy films. Everything about the film reeks of it, Tom Cruise’s cocky prodigy pilot character, the sleaziness in wooing the love interest, an emotional death scene, a euphoric victory scene, a smattering of cool high-fives, a bit of intense rivalry with some more macho meatheads, and the usual faceless bad guys. ((The bad MiGs are black, the good Tomcats white, the Russian pilots act like machines behind their tinted visors, the good guys have faces and names.))

Somehow, though, Top Gun remains watchable despite the oodles of complaints you could make. To the film’s credit, the action sequences are pretty decent, and the soundtrack is pure 80s delight, perhaps one of the greatest of the decade, from Hans Zimmerman’s glorious theme tune, to the epic sappiness of Berlin’s overplayed Take My Breath Away with some great tunes from Kenny Loggins along the way. And on the bad side? Pretty much everything else! The film is formula cliché from start to finish. It runs on a par with the more recent Armageddon , yet for precisely the same reason that that film plumetted, Top Gun remains watchable over two decades on. Perhaps part of that is the pure 80s nostalgia, combined with that cheeky Tom Cruise grin. Or perhaps it’s all down to the homoeroticism of the male leads, the meatheaded environment, the infamous beach volleyball scene, and that utterly cringeworthy exchange between Cruise and Kilmer (You can be my wingman any time. / Bullshit! You can be mine). Who can say?

Top Gun is no thinking man’s film, for if you try you’ll end up spending the entire time thinking about the film’s flaws. That I’ve watched part of the film in a language I didn’t understand and still somehow felt there was something to enjoy is fair testament to how the film can get by on soundtrack and visuals alone. There should be a warning on the box telling viewers to turn their brains off before watching. But if you can manage it, you’ll enjoy this film for being everything a film shouldn’t be, and getting away with it!

Die Hard

Die Hard

“Oh my God, the quarterback is TOAST!”

This film rightly tops out as my daddy of rewatchables! Die Hard has everything a decent action film needs: a likeable hero, some slick bad guys, thrilling action sequences, a smooth plot, an excellent script, and a director who knows how to put it all together and build up the tension. Of course there are plenty of films that have some or even all of these elements, but Die Hard has that magic that makes the film gel into something greater than its parts.

It probably isn’t for everyone, and it’s another which helps having a few friends round to watch, but the film is otherwise as slick as an oil spill. Alan Rickman is perhaps one of the most likeable bad guys to play against Bruce Willis’ roguish, quick-thinking cop character. In fact, the actors generally do a good job, in large part helped by the film’s script. There are so many witty little one-liners, or classic exchanges, that the film at times borders on comedy. Certainly that means the few moments of tension the film produces are often rather side-lined by the interchange, but perhaps that’s precisely why watching this film again almost loses nothing of the first viewing. It’s pretty impossible to build tension when you know what’s going to happen next, but the dialogue is as enjoyable on a second viewing as it is on the first, if not more so. And nearly every character has his line!

Of course it’s an action film, and that demands a share of fight scenes, shooting and big explosions, but Die Hard’s director John McTiernan knows his business, and makes everything fit within a storyline which actually works for a change. It might be a work of pure fiction, but the plot is realistic enough, and importantly it’s pretty believable. There are virtually no moments that jar against our concepts of realism, nothing to tear you out of enjoying the film to have to think “hold on a moment, that’s rubbish”. All the while, the film escalates nicely, as hero John McClane goes from dealing with one terrorist, then a bunch of terrorists, right up to having to fob off the FBI single-handed.

All in all, Die Hard is a damn entertaining film, which is just so well put together, that it rides top of my list of films worth watching again and again. Yippee-ki-yay!

This list is neither complete, nor conclusive. The films listed are merely examples that, for me, fit the description of a rewatchable film. Off the top of my head I could think of several other films that could suit this list: Withnail & I for the sheer hilarity factor and the brilliant performance of Richard E. Grant, Beverly Hills Cop III for memories of when I first watched it, or perhaps The Italian Job (original, naturally) for its classic quotability. And speaking of quotability, why not add Pulp Fiction for good measure. There are many others that I could probably have included, many that I’ve watched more often, many that provide better example of the type of film that revels in repeated viewings. None of these films even particularly appeals as one of my favourites; it might even be fair to state that many of my favourites would fail to live up to the remits of this list. That’s not because I wouldn’t watch them again, and many of them I would, but because they don’t have that requisite something to make you want to sit down and watch them time after time.

So just what makes a film worthy of this list? Does it need the suavity of Alan Rickman playing the bad guy? A ripping great soundtrack from the likes of Hans Zimmerman and Kenny Loggins? Colleen Camp in a revealing French maid’s uniform? All of things help, of course, but they alone aren’t what make these films so rewatchable. It would be a lie to say that watching a film a second time can conjure up the same feelings as the first viewing, and it’s hard to imagine that watching any film that provoked enjoyment the first time round would fail to produce even some shadow of that former feeling a second time. Nevertheless, the films on this list all have something about them that is more than just about their content, and I wouldn’t lightly pass up an opportunity to watch any of them again.