Ace in the Hole - MatthewHunt

American Gigolo
(Paul Schrader, 1980)
Richard Gere, dressed by Armani and objectified by Schrader, gleams with cool sexuality in a
redemptive story of a male prostitute framed for murder in Beverly Hills. Schrader's hyperstylish,
hyper-alienated study of materialism anticipated the foibles of the yuppie generation,
conveying an icy, calculating eroticism with unnerving precision.
American Graffiti
(George Lucas, 1973)
Where were you in '62? asks George Lucas in his only perfect movie, still the quintessential
50s/60s nostalgia-piece, whose distilled essence is reprised in movies as diverse as Diner,
Porky's and Dazed & Confused. After seeing it, you can almost believe that America might
once have been innocent.
An American in Paris
(Vincente Minnelli, 1951)
Gene Kelly is a would-be painter in Paris - because it's the country that invented love, art and
Leslie Caron. Directed by Vincente Minnelli, with Gershwin music, it's an arty musical that
rises to a long dream passage as seen through the styles of leading painters.
American Movie
(Chris Smith, 1999)
In the annals of do-it-yourself film-making, has there ever been a would-be auteur with more
determination than horror aficionado Mark Borchardt? Funny and sad in equal measures,
Chris Smith's documentary chronicles Borchardt's heroic but often hapless struggle to
complete his labour of love against all odds.
American Pie
(Paul Weitz, 1999)
The most likeable teen grossout comedy, character is never forgotten in American Pie. A
roundly written script lavishes attention on everyone, and ritual humiliations repaid with
touching arcs and denouements for all the virginity-afflicted participants. Eugene Levy's
unflappable dad, even when confronted with his pastry-humping progeny, is particularly fine.
American Splendor
(Shari Springer Berman, Robert Pulcini, 2003)
Perpetually disgruntled comic-book artist Harvey Pekar (Paul Giamatti) survives marriage,
cancer, and the petty indignities of everyday life in this imaginative biopic-cum-documentary.
Tweaking the conventions of both genres, the film invites the real Pekar to narrate some
sections and even arranges for the actors to interact with the real-life people they're playing.
An American Werewolf in London
(John Landis, 1981)
This is to werewolves what Shaun of the Dead is to zombies: dark as night and funny as hell,
alternating ultra-violence with a stomping soundtrack of lunar- and lupine-centric oldies. Plus
Jenny Agutter at her, well, nudest, for those of us who never quite got over The Railway
Children.
Amores Perros
(Alejandro González Iñárritu, 2000)
From the opening sequence, which begins with a bleeding Rottweiler and ends with a violent
car crash, this feral drama grabs you by the scruff of the neck and doesn't let go. Shot on the
mean streets of Mexico City, its three interlinked tales pump out a potent blend of passion,
cruelty, violence and betrayal.
Anatomy of a Murder
(Otto Preminger, 1959)
More ambiguous than its clinical title might indicate, Preminger's courtroom drama stars