And one last time, it is the season to review the best movies from Fifty Years Ago. Why one last time? Are we going to stop doing these? Fear not, we will continue to forge ahead. But 1976, in our estimation, was the last year of the New Hollywood. (This is of course openly debated, but at the last MCC staff meeting the sentiment was unanimous.) At the 1977 Academy Awards, four New Hollywood films (three on them towering masterpieces that grace the list below) lost to Rocky, a much beloved picture—that is the antithesis of everything the New Hollywood was about. Oscars don’t tell you much about merit, but they can give a sense of the cultural zeitgeist. And the times, they were a changin’ – but mostly changing back. Less than six weeks after the Academy gave the New Hollywood its curtain call – the co-hosts were Warren Beatty, Ellen Burstyn, Jane Fonda and Richard Pryor (!!!) – Star Wars opened, blowing the doors off the industry and ushering in the era of the feel-good blockbuster.
But don’t let it bring you down, it’s only the New Hollywood burning—and it must be acknowledged that some of its brightest lights lent a hand in setting that bonfire (Altman, Bogdanovich, Peckinpah, Penn and Rafelson, to name a few seventies superstars, all stumbled in the late 70s). And, remember, great movies will always be made—if they would become harder to finance, and chase a smaller audience, in the cultural wasteland that was the 1980s. And now and then great ‘70s films would still surface, even after the 70s were long gone.
In any event, we’re here to celebrate the best of 1976, so here they are:
All the President’s Men How much do I love this movie? It was our choice for the debut episode of That ‘70s Movie Podcast. (Actually, half the movies on this list have already been featured there. Which ones? Look it up, man.) A collaboration between Producer-Star Robert Redford and Director Alan J. Pakula, ATPM boasts a boatload of talent both in front of and behind the camera, with an astonishingly deep cast that includes Dustin Hoffman, Jason Robards and Hal Holbrook, and a production team led by Mr. Gordon Willis. A great movie.
Face to Face A minor work from Ingmar Bergman that would be a major work from anyone else. As with a handful of Iggy’s pics, this one was released both as a mini-series and a theatrically released film; as in all cases, the long form is better—and demands a special edition, which we do not yet have. Liv Ullmann gives a startling and brilliant performance that holds the center of attention; Erland Josephson is also on hand and characteristically excellent. At times rough stuff – think Janov’s Primal Scream therapy – our notes say “very raw, very harsh, very real—how does he [Bergman] do it? [Bonus footage – this was the movie that Alvy and Annie were lining up to see at the start of Annie Hall.]
The Killing of a Chinese Bookie We just posted about this one, so I’ll just hit the highlights. Which are: this vies for our favorite movie by John Cassavetes, which is saying something. I prefer the short version (but the cool kids like the long one). Ben Gazzara is brilliant; and this might be our favorite performance by Seymour Cassel. And when Cosmo stops the action in its tracks to sing “I can’t give you anything but love, baby”—its one of the great moments in the history of cinema.


Kings of the Road The middle entry of Wim Wenders’ early road trilogy, its not as special as Alice in the Cities—but very few things are. A movie with much to say, touches base with most of Wenders trademarks – jukeboxes, cola-cola, movies, trains, protagonists whose parents were adults in Germany during World War II – the action here concerns the fraught homo-social relationship of its two protagonists (including Wenders’ alter-ego Rüdiger Vogler) as they drive along the inter-German border, stopping at local, decaying cinema-houses along the way. Dedicated to Fritz Lang, and extremely well summarized by Richard Brody.
Mickey and Nicky Oh, Wow. You think? Another one we’ve already discussed at length, and yet words fall short of capturing what makes this film so special (and reminds us of that Elvis Costello quote, “Writing about music is like dancing about architecture.” In any event, featuring stratospherically great performances by John Cassavetes and Peter Falk and as well as spectacular night-for-night shooting, Elaine May’s masterpiece would be on the Top 10 list of any year—indeed, Stanley Kauffman declared it “one of the ten best American films of the decade.”
Mr. Klein I tend to shy away from Holocaust-themed films, because, ya know, we’re into moral ambiguity, and Nazis are just not dramatically interesting. Yet the politically astute Joseph Losey – with the support of a marvelous cast that includes Alain Delon, Jeanne Moreau and Michal Lonsdale – manages to navigate this fraught terrain. Unflinching but atmospheric and indirect, ultimately the film is more allegorical than literal. As Ginette Vincendeau puts it, “Mr. Klein belongs to the international political thriller genre, one of the hallmarks of seventies cinema. But it is also a very French film of its time, its reflection on identity doubling as historical inquiry.”
Network Yet another New Hollywood landmark; yet another great movie we’ve already discussed in these pages. (Are these pages?) A master class in movie collaboration – Sidney Lumet, at the top of his game, honored writer Paddy Chayefsky with a rarified “By” credit; Owen Roizman brought his NYC-New Hollywood bona-fides to the cinematography, and legends William Holden and Faye Dunaway lead a marvelous cast. What is it about? Pretty much everything, but it’s interesting to note that a movie that some dismissed as an over-the-top farce now plays like an all-too-prescient documentary.
News from Home My goodness, there sure were some great movies made in 1976! Chantal Akerman recently made waves when her Jeanne Dielman, 23 quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles seized the top spot in Sight and Sound’s most recent 100 films of all time poll. Amusingly, Jeanne Dielman is not in our Top Five . . . Chantal Akerman films. But News From Home is, in fact, our favorite Akerman. A minimalist yet moving time capsule of mid-seventies New York City, Jonathan Rosenbaum called it “one of the best depictions of the alienation of exile that I know.” And here’s a note from your Jewish mother.


The Scar Like Bergman’s Face to Face, a minor film by Polish grandmaster Krzysztof Kieslowski is better than most people’s best. Kieslowski would go on to reel off a half dozen awe-inspiring masterpieces, but there is something special to see in this, his first fiction feature (after a celebrated career as a documentarian, a vocation he shied away from after having qualms about the moral implications of his work). The Scar is still shot very much in documentary style, and I’m amazed at the stuff that he got by the censors, especially given the genre (the local politics of urban corruption). Early Kieslowski efforts can be difficult to track down, but it is worth the effort.
Taxi Driver The alphabet is our friend here, as it is fitting to close on another New Hollywood landmark, and a collaboration between three of the greatest artists that would emerge from this most fertile era: Robert De Niro, Paul Schrader, and Martin Scorsese. (And let’s give a hat tip to cinematographer Michael Chapman and another outstanding cast; we’re partial to The Wizard, played by Peter Boyle.) We continue to love all the Hitchcock touches, and The Man Who Wasn’t There, but let’s give the last words to Roger Ebert: “I have seen it dozens of times. Every time I see it, it works; I am drawn into Travis’ underworld of alienation, loneliness, haplessness and anger.”

