Ace in the Hole - MatthewHunt

A political thriller that caused a sensation in the heady days of 1968. Set in an unnamed
country, it's a thinly veiled attack on Greece under the generals, and echoes a real-life case in
which the investigation into an eminent liberal's murder uncovered endemic state corruption.
Costa-Gavras portrays a world of awesome cynicism, and yet retains a sense of hope.
Zatoichi
(Takeshi Kitano, 2003)
Kitano cast himself as the legendary blind swordsmen in this brilliantly deft collision of
samurai nobility, earthy humour and expertly choreographed action. The plot's a familiar
enough reworking of Kurosawa's Yojimbo, as loner Zatoichi (also an expert masseur and
gambler) comes to the aid of a village terrorized by two rival gangs. Kitano's confident
direction and understanding of the genre, as well as his comic timing, cuts through cliché with
a blade-sharp freshness.
Zazie Dans le Metro
(Louis Malle, 1960)
The French new wave at its most mischievous, in an absurd, anarchic cartoon of a comedy,
full of childish adults and grown-up children - not least eight-year-old Zazie, whose retinue of
insults and insights turns Paris on its head when she escapes from her transvestite uncle.
Zero de Conduite
(Jean Vigo, 1933)
A film of just over half an hour that shows school as a kind of prison from which the kids will
escape. The director, Jean Vigo, was an anarchist. The filming is poetic and idealistic, and
this small gem has helped enrich nearly every school picture made ever since, from Les 400
Coups to If...
Zoolander
(Ben Stiller, 2001)
Male modeling takes it on the chin in Stiller's absurd but hilarious farce, in which the vacuous
but well-meaning Derek Zoolander (Stiller himself) is unwittingly recruited by a sinister fashion
cartel to assassinate the president of Malaysia. Stiller keeps the story - a Rocky-style fall from
grace - straight, and the comedy gloriously stupid, adding a superb sidekick in Owen Wilson
as gormless hippy renaissance man Hansel.
Zulu
(Cy Endfield, 1964)
Best remembered for its stunning 19-century Rorke's Drift battle scenes, in which 139 British
soldiers face off an attack from 4,000 angry locals, this milestone British film is as memorable
for its dignity and restraint as it is for its bravura staging. Periods of quiet before the inevitable
onslaught add an eerie expectancy, but it's the terrific stiff-upper-lip cast - Michael Caine,
Stanley Baker, Jack Hawkins - that captures the endangered-species mettle of the British
Empire.