It’s time to look at ten essential films of the 1950s…
Quentin Tarantino has never been shy about expressing his opinions on cinema. He once claimed that the two weakest decades in cinema were the 50s and 80s. Sure, Tarantino directed Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction, but I’m still going to disagree.
The 80s were awesome, let’s face it. In truth, the noughties were pretty weak and the following two decades, including the one we find ourselves in now, have been slightly hamstrung in mainstream American cinema by a monopolisation from studios like Disney and a crippling reliance on IP over creative freedom.
As for the 1950s, this was an interesting era in cinema. The Hayes Code was still in operation but it was loosening. Cinema mavericks were creating groundbreaking works, even whilst the studio system found itself in a creative lull and a mentality of bigger is better. Much like now, they were pumping huge amounts into gargantuan epics and war films, the former at the very least was waning in popularity. It led to a significant shift into grittier, smaller-scale films from a stream of rising new talent in the late 60s.
Despite all this, the 50s has some of the greatest movies ever made and a number of masterpieces which put it far beyond the output of the past 30 years. Here are ten essential films from the 1950s…
Touch of Evil
Orson Welles was a trailblazer who was at constant loggerheads with the studios that employed him. From being a young upstart breaking all kinds of rules in Citizen Kane, to putting difficult texts to screen such as The Trial, Welles never did it easy and never had it easy. Even a film as masterful as Touch of Evil doesn’t fully represent the full extent of Welles’ intended vision. They sliced and diced many of his more stylistic whims and flights of fancy, to the point he wrote an open letter asking them to reinstate his vision.
In the end, the producer’s cut was released and more recently a restored (and frankly stunning) 4k version with some of Welles’ wilder choices put back in. Regardless of just how much Welles remains in Touch of Evil, it’s clear that his visual brilliance and boundary-pushing flair are still there in abundance, from his infamous opening oner to his composition choices throughout. Not to mention his own distinct performance as a crooked Police Captain who plies his trade near the Mexican border.
Whilst Charlton Heston’s Mexican-face has dated (playing a Mexican-American DEA Agent), this was made in the 50s. For the most part this stunningly shot noir chugs along nicely with great dialogue. Janet Leigh, a couple of years before Psycho made her infamous is excellent here. Heston has presence to burn but this is all about Welles. He steals the on-screen honours with his scenery-gnawing performance, but it’s the visionary direction that feels so attuned to noir that really stands out. It leaves a sense of regret that he didn’t delve into Film noir quite enough, albeit there was a general decline in popularity for the genre by this point (sadly).
The 400 Blows
A key film in the French New Wave, this semi-autobiographical directorial debut launched Francois Truffaut to the forefront of France’s cinematic boon (alongside Godard et al). The 400 Blows is a brilliant coming-of-age film that wonderfully portrays some of the folly and playfulness of young adolescence. It flits between breezy and jovial to serious and more reflective, striding a thin line that has neo-realism/kitchen sink as well as a distinctly childlike gaze.
Truffaut imbues the film with his personality but with a completely assured style of filmmaking (stunningly shot in widescreen and now available in a beautiful 4k version). The film had a cast of established French stars, but the youngsters in the film and in particular the central performance by Jean-Pierre Leaud (as the rapscallion Antoine/Truffaut) whose naturalistic performance was helped enormously with free reign to improvise.
It’s an all-time great that lingers long in the memory and is perfectly bittersweet.
The Killing
The aforementioned Tarantino broke out with Reservoir Dogs and has openly admitted that Stanley Kubrick’s The Killing had a huge influence on his film. This heist film plays out from multiple perspectives to reveal just how the meticulous plan went awry. Kubrick probably had style the very first time he picked up a camera but his growth through his studio-centric pictures to his even more distinctly Kubrickian works is plain to see.
Sterling Hayden is a rugged tough guy of cinema who leads proceedings with great presence. The film is also from an era of Kubrick’s cinema where he made films lithe, trimmed of every superfluous sinew. The Killing is a brilliantly paced and lithe 86 minutes of film noir. It doesn’t get talked about nearly enough in Kubrick’s canon, but then this is Stanley Kubrick we’re talking about.
Wild Strawberries
Picking an essential Ingmar Bergman film from the 50s is tough. For me, his best and most consistent works came in the following decade, but the 50s still saw arguably his most iconic film, The Seventh Seal (which is indeed also one of his best) and it also saw a film as uniquely enthralling as My Summer With Monika.
However, we’re going to pick Wild Strawberries. Put your punnets away, I’m talking about the film! A curmudgeonly old Doctor (Victor Sjostrom) is due to receive an award in Stockholm and sets forth with his pregnant daughter-in-law. Along the way, he reflects on his life through dreams and memories. On a side note, this double bills very well with Tarkovsky’s Mirror (a 70s film with similar themes). Among others, he encounters a few Bergman regulars in Bibi Andersson and Max von Sydow.
Funny, melancholic and philosophical, it’s full of some of Bergman’s most memorable imagery. It’s also short and to the point, bolstered by wonderful performances, particularly from Sjostrom.
Seven Samurai
All told, the 50s was probably Akira Kurosawa’s greatest decade, albeit he carried on making exceptional cinema right up until his death. Rashomon, Throne of Blood, The Hidden Fortress and Ikiru rank as some of his best. The latter has such standing that it was recently remade starring Bill Nighy (Living).
If we’re talking the essential of all essentials for Kurosawa though, it’s Seven Samurai all the way. This is one of the most influential action movies of all time. It’s an epic length running over 3 hours without ever feeling like it. Kurosawa’s stunningly staged set pieces still hold up to this day but what makes this film retain its perfection is a cast of likeable characters with a film that beautifully balances battles, drama, pathos and comedy. It’s also got Kurosawa’s two greatest stalwarts, Takashi Shimura and the inimitable Toshiro Mifune. They’re both superb.
North by Northwest
Alfred Hitchcock has seen time begin to question his legacy. Is he overrated? Has consistent praise as one of, if not the best director to ever grace Hollywood been overly generous? The simple answer is no. Look at the way he constructed scenes and blocked his actors. He was a master and his CV proves that. The decade running into the early 60s would prove to be Hitch’s golden period having worked steadily since the silent era.
Again, much like Bergman and Kurosawa, it’s incredibly difficult to pick one essential over the others, but by virtue of being the most recent (yesterday in fact) that I’ve watched, I’m going for North by Northwest. This starts with some great long-take establishing shots of Roger Thornhill (Cary Grant) a charismatic and assured ad executive with the gift of the gab. He’s shmoosing clients at a dinner meeting when he gets up to make a call and is lifted after a case of mistaken identity. From then on Thornhill, mistaken for a government agent sees his predicament get persistently worse until he’s framed for murder and on the run finding help or hindrance from the dazzling Eve Marie Saint.
The deeper he gets into clearing his name, whilst having to take on this unwanted alter ego, the more adept he becomes until the film starts to veer into the wishful idea of Hitchcock doing a Bond film. It’s great from beginning to end with fantastic dialogue that’s made even greater when delivered by Cary Grant. Now THAT was an actor with incredible star power. Vertigo and Rear Window are both very close.
Night of the Hunter
As far as one-and-done directors go, Charles Laughton might be the finest in cinema history. The character actor took to the director’s chair for Night of the Hunter but never returned to it prior to his untimely death.
Lead by a brilliantly villainous turn by Robert Mitchum, Night of the Hunter has goofy comedy, and cheesy moments that all seem to work within a film that manages to delve into dark territory and a sense of looming dread. The way it can flip between comical moments to those of grim fear shows the mark of a skilled craftsman. Mitchum as the “Preacher” trying to uncover the whereabouts of hidden loot buried by his former prison cellmate really does make your skin crawl and the film noir-styled cinematography looks phenomenal.
On The Waterfront
Marlon Brando is an iconic figure in cinema. He’s a man who almost redefined what screen acting could be and before odd behaviour and questionable role choices threatened that legacy, he was a young brooding actor with the kind of intensity few have matched since. Everyone from Pacino, De Niro, to Sly Stallone, Mickey Rourke and Eric Roberts was at some stage compared favourably to the GOAT. The point is, he became a yardstick.
On the Waterfront is undoubtedly his finest hour, in a career filled with some great performances. It’s also the finest work of Elia Kazan, one of the best directors of his era and a key influence on the generation of rising young directorial talent throughout the 70s (such as Francis Ford Coppola, Martin Scorsese and Steven Spielberg). It’s a mesmerising film, also featuring great performances from Rod Steiger, Karl Malden, Lee J. Cobb and the aforementioned Eve Marie Saint.
12 Angry Men
To set a film entirely in one room, with 12 (angry men) squeezed into it takes some cahoonas and that’s exactly what Sidney Lumet does. A group of jurors are tasked with giving the verdict on a murder case and with a split in the room they’ll have to find a way to come to an agreed verdict.
You could probably argue beyond reasonable doubt that this is the best courtroom drama ever. In truth, 12 Angry Men pushes close for the all-encompassing title. It’s an astonishing achievement that never gets dull. 12 men talking within a small, plain room shouldn’t grip like it does but Lumet consistently has interesting compositions and blocking (seriously, this is such a dying art) and the all-star cast (Henry Fonda, Lee J. Cobb, Jack Klugman) is all on top form too. Beyond that, we get a constant sense of atmosphere. Sound from outside their room permeates the soundtrack, whilst the heat and sweat within the room are felt.
Tokyo Story
Yasujiro Ozu had a deceptively simple aesthetic in his films. His penchant for still shots and unconventional editing and shot choices (occasionally skipping the 180 line) never overwhelm a film or leave it lacking in energy. He set a pace early in his films and carefully told simple stories. Family and generational roles were important themes and central to most of Ozu’s work, not least Tokyo Story.
Ozu’s films are often bittersweet in nature, with characters who are good-natured. Tokyo Story deals with time or the lack of which children have for their ageing parents. Life, work and family get in the way as well as ignorance. The beauty of Ozu’s work is just how he leads you sweetly to a moment of inevitability, by which time you’re firmly invested in a man and wife neglected by their children but given some time by their former daughter-in-law (after their other son had died in the war). It’s so simple in its delivery but layered and above all emotionally investing (I’m not crying, you are!).
Honourable Mentions:
Les Diaboliques, Wages of Fear, The Hitch-Hiker, The Big Heat, 7th Voyage of Sinbad, Some Like it Hot, All About Eve, Singing In The Rain (My Mum’s fault), Rebel Without a Cause, The Searchers, Paths of Glory, Dracula, Alice in Wonderland, Animal Farm, The Lavender Hill Mob, Sunset Boulevard, Night and the City, A Streetcar Named Desire (Stelllaaaaaa!!!), The War of the Worlds, Godzilla.
What’s your favourite 1950s film? Are there others worthy of a place on the list? Let us know on our social channels @flickeringmyth…
Tom Jolliffe is an award-winning screenwriter and passionate cinephile. He has a number of films out around the world, including When Darkness Falls, Renegades (Lee Majors and Danny Trejo) and War of The Worlds: The Attack (Vincent Regan), with more coming soon including Cinderella’s Revenge (Natasha Henstridge) and The Baby in the Basket (Maryam d’Abo and Paul Barber). Find more info at the best personal site you’ll ever see here.
