Ace in the Hole - MatthewHunt

Laura
(Otto Preminger, 1944)
The sophisticated hit of 1944, with a detective who is a sociopath, a narrator who is
"unreliable", and Laura herself - as pretty as Gene Tierney - but an ordinary girl. Otto
Preminger based his career on this and made only one mistake: he wanted Duke Ellington's
Sophisticated Lady in the score, not David Raksin's great tune.
The Lavender Hill Mob
(Charles Crichton, 1951)
The heist movie, Ealing style, with Alec Guinness as the timid worm who turns, Stanley
Holloway his oily cohort, and Sid James the requisite working-class spiv. This sharp, slick
comedy boasts a wonderfully absurdist streak. Even the best-laid schemes, it seems, are no
match for a troupe of twittering schoolgirls.
Law of Desire
(Pedro Almodóvar, 1987)
Almodóvar's breakthrough film was ground-breaking in its frank, matter-of-fact treatment of
homosexuality. With melodramatic plotting, self-reflexive asides about film-making, all kinds of
gender confusion and bravura performances from Carmen Maura (as a transsexual) and
Antonio Banderas (a jealous lover), this is quintessential Almodóvar.
Lawrence of Arabia
(David Lean, 1962)
Blue-eyed and beautiful, Peter O'Toole plays the flamboyant first world war hero who united
Arab tribes to fight against the Turks in this gorgeously cinematic epic. An intelligent
screenplay by Robert Bolt doesn't shy away from TE Lawrence's oddities.
Leaving Las Vegas
(Mike Figgis, 1995)
Life through the bottom of a bourbon bottle. Arriving in Las Vegas determined to drink himself
to death, alcoholic screenwriter Nicolas Cage surprises himself by forming an attachment to
local hooker Elisabeth Shue. Refusing feel-good cliches, the unflinching account of their
relationship achieves an unusual emotional authenticity.
Leningrad Cowboys Go America
(Aki Kaurismaki, 1989)
The ultimate Finnish rock'n'roll road movie. After somehow failing to rock their rural
hometown, the resolutely awful Leningrad Cowboys are packed off to make it big in America -
"They'll put up with anything there". With their enormous quiffs, giant pointy boots,
wraparound shades and dead bass player, Kaurismper thousandki's deadpan humour was
never deadlier.
Léon
(Luc Besson, 1994)
Besson's contribution to the momentarily fashionable lone-assassin genre (Nikita was remade
the same year) was a showcase for droopy-eyed Jean Reno: he's a "cleaner" who takes a
paternal, interest in his kid neighbour after her family is wiped out. Everything is constructed
on cartoonish lines - including Natalie Portman's ultra-dubious mugging and Gary Oldman's
pill-popping villain. It's still a lot of fun though.
The Leopard
(Luchino Visconti, 1963)
Visconti, the Marxist aristocrat, was destined to bring Lampedusa's story of declining Sicilian
aristocracy to the screen, and its grandeur and scope make it an epic for the ages. The
climactic ballroom scene is an unrivalled set piece; the last waltz for Burt Lancaster's titular
patriarch, and an entire era with him.