The Fifties were an amazing era for cinema and the arts, in general. Not only is it a decade full of new storytelling techniques and extraordinary performances, it’s also a period rife with dramatic moments that changed the way we look at this medium and its performers.

1950: Three Masterpieces

A good film must be visual poetry, and no one understood this better than Jean Cocteau, who was a poet before he became a filmmaker. His Orphic trilogy pieces are visual poems themselves, burgeoning with enigmatic imagery. Cocteau mastered the grammar of cinema, constructing every special effect with the care of a poet choosing a literary device. ‘Orpheus’ (1950) is an example of this, as a modern retelling of the eponymous myth, and its mirror scene is extraordinary. To film it, the director had the actor putting his gloved hands into a vat of mercury—even today, this scene is a stroke of genius belonging to a pre-CGI era.

‘ORPHEUS’ (1950), ©FILMS DU PALAIS ROYAL

Joseph L. Mankiewicz was famous for his barbed and literate dialogue, but ‘All About Eve’ (1950), a sardonic and multi-Oscar-winning cautionary tale about the ruthless ambition and intense paranoia infecting American theatre, found his writing in peak form. The film absolutely revels in bitchy interaction and acerbic observation as Anne Baxter’s ingenue Eve strategically secures the affections of Bette Davis’s aging stage star Margo. The peppery aroma really takes hold during the party scene, where Margo reckons Eve is receiving excessive admiration. When Bill notes that the mood is ‘very Macbeth-ish’, Margo downs her champagne before proudly announcing: ‘Fasten your seatbelts, it’s going to be a bumpy night.’

‘ALL ABOUT EVE’ (1950), ©20TH CENTURY FOX

I remember Billy Wilder’s ‘Sunset Boulevard’ (1950) as one of the movies I had to watch prior to my admission exams for film school, some years ago. An indelible scene is the visit that Norma Desmond, illustriously portrayed by Gloria Swanson, makes to the studio. She’s in the sunset of her acting career, hunkered down in a rococo-style palatial temple, yet a single phone call from Cecil B. DeMille is enough to get her out of the house.

As she arrives to the soundstage where DeMille is shooting, dozens of extras fawn over her, then a gaffer calls down and turns a spot on her. For a moment, in that magical stream of light, time has stopped, and Norma is again the silver-screen beauty of yesteryear. But DeMille orders everyone back to work, dissipating the moment as he explains the small confusion regarding the call. In a single breath, the past returns to its proper place—the airless vault in which memory lingers and eventually disappears.

‘SUNSET BOULEVARD’ (1950), ©PARAMOUNT PICTURES

1951: Hitchcock Rises and Japan Wins Venice

If we’re to look back at symbolic objects that we’ll probably never forget, the lighter from Alfred Hitchcock’s ‘Strangers on a Train’ (1951) will come to mind. It’s introduced mere minutes into this masterful thriller and becomes critical to the plot. The suspense reaches a peak when Bruno must retrieve the lighter he just lost, the lighter he’ll use to frame Guy. Hitchcock makes thriller art with his cross-cuts between the two men and their desperate exertions—Guy lunging for every ball on the sunlit court and Bruno thrusting his arm into the dark storm drain. It leaves us rooting for the bad guy as a struggle between id and superego emerges, further complicated by Hitchcockian ingenuity.

‘STRANGERS ON A TRAIN’ (1951), ©WARNER BROS.

In September of that year, Akira Kurosawa’s ‘Rashomon’ (1950) won the coveted Golden Lion for Best Film at the Venice Film Festival. It suddenly thrust Japanese cinema into the world spotlight, since very little of it had been seen in the West prior to this moment. ‘Rashomon’ went on to travel widely on the strength of its prize, helping to make Kurosawa a familiar name in western cinematic culture.

1952: Epic Cinema

One of the truly overwhelming Technicolor features of the 1950s, titled ‘The Greatest Show on Earth’ and directed by Cecil B. DeMille, features the Ringling Bros., Barnum and Bailey Circus, real locations and an all-star cast to deliver a spectacular visual opera. But perhaps the supremely arresting moment comes in the train wreck scene. It’s one of the primary early examples of catastrophe cinema—the saturation of colours in the early evening, the combination of model shots and live-action footage, and the integration of animals into the scene of destruction make for an optically stunning sequence.

‘THE GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH’ (1952), ©PARAMOUNT PICTURES

Hollywood’s first 3D production, ‘Bwana Devil’ (1952) was a hit despite the terrible reviews. It wasn’t so much about the story, which involved man-eating African lions, but about the excitement of a new experience—motion pictures in depth, with visual elements that seemed to leap out of the screen. Studios scrambled to capitalize on this craze, led by Columbia with ‘Man in the Dark’ and Warner Bros. with ‘House of Wax’.

Experimenting with 3D movies got serious in the early ‘50s, when competition from television made Hollywood eager for spectacles that TV couldn’t provide. Three-projector Cinerama, wide-screen CinemaScope, and stereophonic soundtracks debuted around the same time.

‘BWANA DEVIL’ (1952), ©ARCH OBOLER PRODUCTIONS

And since we’re discussing epic cinema, it wouldn’t be epic without Gene Kelly’s legendary performance in ‘Singin’ in the Rain’ (1952). This musical number embodies the ‘natural’ style developed by the Arthur Freed unit at MGM, and it represents the highest expression of joy in the movies. The scene was actually edited out of ten shots, yet it gives such an illusion of continuity that it is experienced and felt as a single mobile take, thanks to the ‘invisible’ cuts induced by shot size and camera work, music and rhythm, movements and grand gestures of Mr Kelly, the actor-dancer-singer who gave us this crazy explosion of elation, happiness, and joy.

‘SINGIN’ IN THE RAIN’ (1952), ©METRO-GOLDWYN-MAYER (MGM)

1953: Anamorphic Changes Everything

Hollywood’s major studios were facing competition from TV and plunging box-office revenues during this period. Among the devices they used to gain an advantage in an increasingly competitive industry was the CinemaScope. Devised by Henri Chrétien and bought by 20^th Century Fox in 1952, the process used an anamorphic lens—mounted on an ordinary camera, it photographed images that were horizontally squeezed. ‘Un-squeezing’ during projection yielded an image wider than the film frame. On 12^th March 1953, after successful screenings of their first two CinemaScope productions, ‘The Robe’ and ‘How to Marry a Millionaire’, 20^th Century Fox announced that they would concentrate exclusively on subjects suitable for this new device.

‘HOW TO MARRY A MILLIONAIRE’ (1953), ©TWENTIETH CENTURY FOX

Another pivotal point in the film world came with ‘From Here to Eternity’ (1953), directed by Fred Zimmermann and starring Burt Lancaster and Deborah Kerr. The beach kiss scene is what made history—the most widely disseminated (and parodied) erotic image of that era. It takes place on a Honolulu beach just before the Pearl Harbour attacks, and it gives us Kerr’s neglected army wife Karen locked in a horizontal embrace with Lancaster’s ramrod sergeant Warden. They kiss at the water’s edge, timed so that the surf washes voluptuously over their contoured bodies. It only lasted for 12 seconds, and yet it sent a sexual frisson around the world. The scene also foreshadowed the tide of sexual frankness that would soon sweep away Hollywood’s Production Code restrictions.

‘FROM HERE TO ETERNITY’ (1953), ©COLUMBIA PICTURES

1954: The Year of Legends

In cinema, an encounter can be magical. It’s the initial chance meeting between two people who are fated to be together, either rapturously or tragically. Few films have given us a more remarkable encounter than ‘The Barefoot Contessa’ (1954), when Ava Gardner’s Maria meets her future Count, played by Rossano Brazzi. It binds two lives forever in a shared destiny, a mood for love.

‘THE BAREFOOT CONTESSA’ (1954), ©TRANSOCEANIC FILM

The ‘50s were also the peak of Alfred Hitchcock’s filmmaking, in my humble opinion. ‘Rear Window’ (1954) is but one of his masterpieces, starring James Stewart and Grace Kelly. The climax and most suspenseful moment of the story happens when the killer sees Jefferies, the Hitchcockian ambivalence and irony becoming even greater if one accepts the interpretation of some critics, like Robin Wood—according to which the Thorwald character can be considered Jefferies’s alter ego.

Most people may remember Judy Garland from ‘The Wizard of Oz’ (1939), but her electrifying performance in ‘A Star Is Born’ (1954) deserves its own round of heartfelt applause. Early in the film, James Mason’s Norman Maine tracks Garland’s Esther Blodgett to the joint on Sunset Boulevard where, for their private pleasure, she and her band perform ‘The Man That Got Away’ by Harold Arlen and Ira Gershwin. Complemented by George Cukor’s mise en scène and camera movement, Ms Garland’s rendition of the song is a transcendent moment of pure enjoyment within what will become a lacerating melodrama.

‘A STAR IS BORN’ (1954), ©WARNER BROS.

1955: The Year of James Dean

After capturing the hearts and minds of an entire world with his gut-wrenching performance in ‘Rebel Without A Cause’ (1955), 24-year-old James Dean perished in a collision on 30^th September of the same year, on a road outside Cholame, California. Dean was known for his love of fast cars, best exemplified by the iconic ‘chickie run’ scene from the Nicholas Ray classic movie, but he was not breaking the speed limit at the time of the accident.

Movie stars had died before, exciting outpourings of fan grief (remember the Rudolph Valentino stampede?), but Dean’s death stands as the most significant—right up there with John F. Kennedy, Martin Luther King, and Princess Diana as among the most discussed, mourned, mythologised and commemorated tragedies of the 20^th century. Beloved for his work in the aforementioned ‘Rebel Without a Cause’ and Elia Kazan’s ‘East of Eden’ (1955), in particular, his sudden death froze him as one of the screen greats.

‘REBEL WITHOUT A CAUSE’ (1955), ©WARNER BROS.

1956: A Cornucopia of Genres

Four movies defined this year. One was ‘Invasion of the Body Snatchers’ (1956), adapted from Jack Finney’s novel and directed by Don Siegel. Black-and-white and shot in Superscope, this half-noir sci-fi gemstone gives us a terrified Kevin McCarthy—the sole survivor of a small town taken over by seedpod-grown imitation humans from outer space. In a key scene, he stumbles out onto a busy highway, rambling that ‘they’re taking over’, then turns to the camera and shrieks at the audience. ‘You’re next!’

‘INVASION OF THE BODY SNATCHERS’ (1956), ©WALTER WANGER PRODUCTIONS

‘The Searchers’ (1955) is one of John Ford’s capo d’operas, recognized universally among the greatest film westerns. It’s the saga of Civil War veteran Ethan Edwards, portrayed by John Wayne, who returns to his sister’s home after a Comanche raid and finds most of his family butchered and his niece Debbie (Natalie Wood), kidnapped. The end gives us a beautiful duality as Edwards takes Debbie into his arms, sliding from forceful to gentle and revealing Wayne’s two-sided screen persona, unyieldingly stalwart but also tender and compassionate.

It wouldn’t be reasonable to leave out ‘The Man Who Knew Too Much’ (1956) from this year’s absolute greats. Starring Doris Day and Reggie Nalder, the film offers one of the biggest and most iconic moments in Alfred Hitchcock’s career—the scream that changed the narrative world, showing why the woman’s voice has more power than the assassin’s bullet.

‘THE MAN WHO KNEW TOO MUCH’ (1956), ©PARAMOUNT PICTURES

Hollywood’s ultimate money shot came with the parting of the Red Sea in Cecil B. DeMille’s ‘The Ten Commandments’ (1956). DeMille built his reputation on half-sleazy and half-moralistic spectacles, including the earlier silent version of ‘The Ten Commandments’ from 1923. But the 4-hour, widescreen, Technicolor remake of this Old Testament story that stars Charlton Heston as Moses trumps every gaudy splendour showcased up to this point.

‘THE TEN COMMANDMENTS’ (1956), ©PARAMOUNT PICTURES

1957: Losing Humphrey Bogart

For decades, Humphrey Bogart had embodied the kind of slow-to-anger masculinity that Hollywood adored. American cinema was emotional, romantic and melodramatic from the start, and Bogart was one of its counterpoints. His late conversions to the cause in ‘Casablanca’ (1942), along with his hints at caring in ‘The Maltese Falcon’ (1941) and ‘To Have and Have Not’ (1944) were all the more moving because they were so hard-earned. He wasn’t the greatest actor of his generation.

By the time of his death, the likes of Marlon Brando and Montgomery Clift had begun to make his acting style seem narrow or repetitive. But Bogart was lionised by the French as the Sartre of film noir—an existential in a trench coat. Thespians like Steve McQueen, James Coburn and Sean Connery came from the same mould and learned from him. His young wife, Lauren Bacall, changed his later life and his political views. I recommend reading ‘By Myself’, her memoir about his illness and death.

THE BOGART FAMILY IN APRIL 1956

1957 wasn’t all bad, however. Ingmar Bergman gave us ‘The Seventh Seal’, illustriously led by a young Max von Sydow, a film that further asserted the Swedish as essential masters of cinema. Bergman followed it up with ‘Wild Strawberries’, his warmest film, illuminated by a superb lead performance from Victor Sjöström.

And America’s independent cinema can be traced to a certain moment in February 1957, when John Cassavetes appeared on ‘Night People’, a radio show hosted by Jean Shepherd. He discussed a theatre piece he had been directing, then casually remarked that it might provide the basis for a good film. He suggested ‘crowdfunding’, albeit in more layman’s terms, and approximately $2,500 trickled in during the following week. Cassavetes used those funds from the general public to shoot what later became ‘Shadows’ (1958).

‘SHADOWS’ (1958), ©LION INTERNATIONAL

1958: ‘Here I Was Born, and There I Died’

Kim Novak and James Stewart gave us the most eerily romantic scene in Alfred Hitchcock’s ‘Vertigo’ (1958). Visiting the giant redwoods in a Northern California national park, the mysterious and haunted Madeleine and Scottie, the detective who’s supposed to investigate her on behalf of her concerned husband, stop to admire a cross-section of a long-lived tree, its rings marking the passing of centuries. Madeleine, believing herself to be the reincarnation of an ancestor named Carlotta, puts her fingers on two rings. ‘Here I was born, and there I died’, she tells Scottie. This scene is later excerpted in Terry Gilliam’s ‘Twelve Monkeys’ (1995), where Madeleine’s fatalism seems to apply to human civilization.

VERTIGO’ (1958), ©ALFRED J. HITCHCOCK PRODUCTIONS

1959: Punchlines and Theatrical Cinema

‘Some Like It Hot’ (1959) might be the funniest American comedy—while that statement can be questioned, the perfection of its ending is indisputable. Billy Wilder’s film follows Tony Curtis and Jack Lemmon as unwilling witnesses of the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre who hide in an all-girl band, dressed in drag. In the end, when Lemon’s character tries to break the news of his true self to Osgood by saying he’s a man, Osgood replies with a silly smile: ‘Nobody’s perfect.’ Like I said, perfect.

‘SOME LIKE IT HOT’ (1959), ©ASHTON PRODUCTIONS

‘Anatomy of a Murder’ (1959) gave us a fantastic speech from James Stewart, 86 minutes into the movie. Lawyer Biegler finally manages to introduce evidence of rape into his defence of a soldier. Both prosecutor and defender play to the crowd in their different ways. It’s a wide-angle one-minute take, Otto Preminger literally lays out the steps that each character takes before the judge. It’s truly a striking example of the importance of the calculated pause in Preminger’s theatrical cinema.

1960: The Discovery of Video Assist

It was a fantastic year for cinema. Among my favourites you’ll find ‘Breathless’ by Jean-Luc Godard, which brings Jean-Paul Belmondo and Jean Seberg together on the silver screen; the low-budget ‘Fall of the House of Usher’ by Roger Corman, which helped chart an influential course for low-budget filmmaking; ‘Psycho’ by Alfred Hitchcock, which unfolds one of the most gripping, unsettling sequences without dialogue as the director demonstrates the power of pure cinema to evade the mind’s usual emotional defences; and Michelangelo Antonioni’s ‘L’Avventura’, a breakthrough in European cinema that remains indelible for its depiction of mood and modernity.

‘THE BELLBOY’ (1960), ©JERRY LEWIS PICTURES/PARAMOUNT PICTURES

But the greatest achievement of 1960 comes with ‘The Bellboy’, where Jerry Lewis came up with the video assist. Since he was directing and playing the lead character, Mr Lewis needed a way to see his performance in real time, so he would be able to judge a take he just shot.

Past actor-directors relied on co-directors for this, but Mr Lewis found a different solution by attaching a closed-circuit TV camera to the film camera. It was connected to a monitor placed in his sightline, allowing him to see what he was getting on film, at the same time as he was getting it. This technological breakthrough enhanced filmmakers’ options and extended cinema’s dominion over time.

From that fateful moment back in 1895, when the Lumière brothers screened the first motion picture of laborers leaving their factory in Paris, mankind has constantly ascended in its cinematic pursuit. Year after year, beginning with Thomas Edison’s Kinetoscope and ending with today’s iMax and 3D technologies, we find ourselves not only still making new tales for the screen, but also reinventing the old ones.

Remakes are as old as cinema itself, if one looks back in time. Directors are always eager to take others’ stories and add their own vision and artistic execution to them. But the endeavour itself has always been a double-edged blade, and in some cases, blood was metaphorically spilled. Industry people and viewers alike agree, to this day, that sometimes a remake simply isn’t welcome. That the original director’s version was the best form in which that particular story could be told. That there is no amount of new technology and visual pizzazz that can replace the often gritty, if not ancient appeal of an original production.

The Good

There have been some successful reboots. In fact, the new versions outdid the originals and are loved by critics and audiences alike. 

John Carpenter’s ‘The Thing’ (1982), for example, starring Kurt Russell and Wilford Brimley, is not only a cult classic these days, but also an illustrious adaptation of Howard Hawks’ ‘The Thing from Another World’ (1951). While Hawks went on to be better known as the recipient of an Honorary Academy Award for his cinematic contribution, giving us timeless classics such as ‘Gentlemen Prefer Blondes’ (1953), ‘Scarface’ (1932), ‘Bringing Up Baby’ (1938), and ‘Rio Bravo’ (1959), he is less remembered for what later became Carpenter’s horror masterpiece.

©UNIVERSAL PICTURES

‘The Thing’, much like Ennio Morricone’s score, was not immediately loved. In fact, Mr Morricone earned himself a Razzie nomination for his work on the movie. Not long afterwards, however, the brilliance of John Carpenter shone through, as did the music, and ‘The Thing’ became a titan of the goosebump-inducing genre. 

Joel and Ethan Coen’s ‘True Grit’ (2010) remake of Henry Hathaway’s 1969 epic starring John Wayne, was a resounding success. It racked up ten Academy Award nominations, and a BAFTA award for Best Cinematography. The latter was not unexpected for Roger Deakins, also known for ‘Skyfall’ (2012), ‘Blade Runner 2049’ (2017), and ‘Fargo’ (1996), as his work on ‘True Grit’ is used to this day as an example for exquisite cinematography. And who could possibly forget Jeff Bridges’ startling performance, right?

Another excellent rendition of a previously made movie was Martin Scorsese’s ‘Cape Fear’ (1991), which gave us a chilling Robert de Niro terrorizing Nick Nolte and Jessica Lange’s characters. The original of 1962 saw Robert Mitchum’s Max Cady going after Gregory Peck and Polly Bergens’ Sam and Peggy Bowden, respectively—each memorable in their own way.

©AMBLIN ENTERTAINMENT

The 2007 version of ‘3:10 to Yuma’ also garnered applause. James Mangold did a fantastic job with Halsted Welles’ original script from 1957. The cinematography, along with the sharp editing and finer treatment of certain key scenes from the story, make the second version slightly better, though both Russell Crowe and Glenn Ford’s Ben Wade are just as hypnotizing.

And let us not forget about ‘The Manchurian Candidate’ (2004), directed by Jonathan Demme and starring Denzel Washington and a very young and ridiculously talented Liev Schreiber. The original from 1962 had Frank Sinatra and Laurence Harvey playing Raymond Shaw and Ben Marco, respectively. Even now, both productions yield an equal amount of appreciation, as staples of drama and suspense.

The list might go on, but five should do the trick in getting the positive point across. Now, let us move on to the unavoidable negative.

The Bad

A more recent disaster would certainly be ‘Flatliners’ (2017), directed by Niels Arden Oplev. It stars Ellen Page, Nina Dobrev, and Diego Luna. It even gives us a Kiefer Sutherland cameo that doesn’t do anything to enhance the story. Unlike the previous examples, where each of the directors offered a fresh take and a somewhat different vision from the originals, ‘Flatliners’ falls horribly flat.

©COLUMBIA PICTURES

The first one from 1990 had depth and originality. Joel Schumacher made the most out of Peter Filardi’s screenplay, and Kiefer Sutherland, Kevin Bacon, Oliver Platt, and Julia Roberts—all fresh-faced emerging talents at the time, knocked their performances out of the park. ‘Flatliners’ (1990) was substantive and profound, exploring a realm beyond death which we’ve only theorized on. It was daring and provocative for its time. The idea behind a successful remake is to bring something new and different to the table. 

‘Footloose’ (2011), directed by Craig Brewer, dared to take on a legend. It is one of those movies that no one even asked for, since nobody could really replace Kevin Bacon and his feverish dance moves from the 1984 version. In Brewer’s defence, the storyline itself made more sense then than it does now. After all, taking a city teenager and having him shake up a small town where rock music and dancing are banned is a tad unbelievable for this day and age. It made much more sense in the 1980s, for some reason, back when Kenny Loggins’ chart-topping hits made so many hearts beat faster.

There was a certain style to Kevin Bacon’s acting and dancing, too, that made him and the movie absolutely unique. ‘Footloose’ deserved to be left alone, at best, and if anyone did take it on, a bold new take would’ve been advised. Since none of those things happened, we now have one more reboot to toss into the slush pile or have as an option for in-flight viewing.

©PARAMOUNT PICTURES/COURTESY EVERETT

Gus Van Sant is best known for impeccable works such as ‘Milk’ (2008), starring Sean Penn as iconic gay rights activist Harvey Milk; ‘My Own Private Idaho’ (1991), which brought Keanu Reeves and River Phoenix as two hustler friends whose journey of self-discovery begins to affect their relationship; and ‘Elephant’ (2003), a film that stunned audiences with its graceful rendition of life before a mass shooting and earned Van Sant a Palme D’Or at the Cannes Film Festival. 

He is also known for his 1998 remake of ‘Psycho’, and not in a good way. Vince Vaughn, Anne Heche, and Julianne Moore were enlisted to bring his version of Joseph Stefano’s screenplay to life, but the entire affair left viewers scrunching their noses. For a director with such artistic sensitivity, one would’ve expected more but, truth be told, trying to do better than Alfred Hitchcock was an endeavour doomed to fail from the start. And as talented as Vince Vaughn might be, he is no Anthony Perkins, just like Anne Heche is no Janet Leigh. Some things are just better left untouched.

Neil LaBute must’ve had high hopes for his version of ‘The Wicker Man’ (2006). Using Anthony Schaffer’s screenplay from the 1973 original starring Edward Woodward and Christopher Lee, Mr LaBute chose Nicholas Cage as his protagonist. Some of the harsher critics might say this was his undoing, but the overall production lagged considerably behind Robin Hardy’s directorial masterpiece.

©GREAT AMERICAN FILMS LIMITED PARTNERSHIP/VESTRON PICTURES

But of the many remakes that have flopped over the years, few have been as resoundingly bad as ‘Dirty Dancing’ (2017), directed by Wayne Blair. While no one dares dispute Abigail Breslin or Sarah Hyland’s thespian gifts, Blair’s persistence of redoing a film that was already flawless was frowned upon.

The classic and impossible-to-redo ‘Dirty Dancing’ of 1987 was written by Eleanor Bergstein, and it was an instant hit. It had a gorgeous Patrick Swayze flashing his provocative dance moves and brooding, steely blue eyes. It had an ingenue Jennifer Grey and a doting father in Jerry Orbach. It had some of the greatest songs that were ever written, and it had a formula that has been almost impossible to reproduce elsewhere without getting eyerolls from the audience.

The Ones No One Should Ever Touch

Not every great movie can be reimagined successfully. Slapping a coat of bright new paint on an old car does not change the car’s make or model, nor does it make the car drive better or faster. Sometimes, a vintage beauty should remain a vintage beauty. To emphasize this, it’s time to look at five movies that really, really, really should never be remade.

©COLUMBIA PICTURES

Rob Reiner’s ‘Stand by Me’ (1986) brings Wil Wheaton, River Phoenix, Corey Feldman, and Jerry O’Connell as four friends who go on a search for the body of a missing boy outside the small town of Castlerock, Oregon. Along the way, they come to learn more about themselves, eventually learning to stand up for what is right. It’s a wonderful and maybe a little bit troubling coming-of-age story based on Stephen King’s novella ‘The Body’, originally published in ‘Different Seasons’ back in 1982, and it is basically impossible to reimagine as anything else than what it already is.

Even with its high nostalgia appeal and preteen protagonists, ‘Stand by Me’ was never meant to be a children’s movie. However, it did tap into our inner kids, and its entire brilliance stands solely on the shoulders of its unapologetic realism. It wasn’t easy to pull off a story like this the first time around, and there’s serious doubt it could ever be… repurposed.

©PARAMOUNT PICTURES/LUCASFILM

‘Raiders of the Lost Ark’ (1981), based on a story by George Lucas and directed by Steven Spielberg, is probably one of the best Indiana Jones movies ever made. It has Harrison Ford running around on behalf of the US government to retrieve the fabled Ark of the Covenant before the Nazis get to it. It has heart-pounding adventure and sassy one-liners, ancient artefacts and the lovely Karen Allen playing Indy’s love interest, Marion. 

Roger Ebert said it’s ‘an out-of-body experience, a movie of glorious imagination and breakneck speed that grabs you in the first shot, hurtles you through a series of incredible adventures, and deposits you back in reality two hours later—breathless, dizzy, wrung-out, and with a silly grin on your face.’ So far, no one has managed to give ‘Raiders of the Lost Ark’ a more accurate description than Mr Ebert. Most importantly, it is one of those movies that will never work again. Its adventurous blueprint is one-of-a-kind.

©WARNER BROS.

‘Casablanca’ (1941), directed by Michael Curtiz, is definitely one of the ‘untouchables’ of the cinematic universe. Ingrid Bergman and Humphrey Bogart, giants of Hollywood’s Golden Age, both shine on the silver screen with their ardent performances. It’s a marvellous feat signed by the same man who gave us ‘The Adventures of Robin Hood’ (1938) and ‘The Comancheros’ (1961), and it won three Academy Awards for Best Picture, Best Director, and Best Writing/Screenplay.

A poignant and emotional war drama, ‘Casablanca’ cannot be rebooted in any way. The effect of Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman’s onscreen chemistry cannot be copied, regardless of how much talent or experience any proposed actors might have. It’s simply impossible to do more or better than what Michael Curtiz achieved. The closest anyone ever got to bringing ‘Casablanca’ back was with a prequel for television from 1983 featuring Hector Elizondo. The fact that it was a short-lived production should not surprise anyone at this point.

©ALLSTAR/MGM

Directed by Victor Fleming and graced by George Cukor’s influence, ‘The Wizard of Oz’ (1939) sees Judy Garland as Dorothy, who gets swept up in a tornado with her dog, Toto, and ends up in the dazzling, dangerous, and colourful world of Oz. We all know the story, and yet we can never get enough of it. Based on Frank L. Baum’s critically acclaimed novels, ‘The Wizard of Oz’ is an everlasting tale of wonder, magic, and courage, as seen through the eyes of a sweet girl with ruby slippers and three downright memorable, yet unexpected friends.

While there have been other versions imagined for television, along with some sequels and prequels for Broadway and the big screen, no one has yet plucked up the courage to take on the movie itself. The world has vaguely accepted Sam Raimi’s ‘Oz the Great and Powerful’ (2013) and Matthew Arnold and Josh Friedman’s ‘Emerald City’ (2016) TV series, though neither made much of a splash. At best, we’re left with Idina Menzel and Kristin Chenoweth’s unforgettable songs from ‘Wicked’. One can only hope that’s all there will be, and that Judy Garland will be the only Dorothy we’ll ever know.

©ACT III COMMUNICATIONS/BUTTERCUP FILMS LTD./THE PRINCESS BRIDE LTD.

With rumours of Sony Pictures Entertainment being in talks for a ‘Princess Bride’ (1987) reboot, it is only appropriate to address what is clearly an issue for too many people. Written by William Goldman and directed by Rob Reiner—worth noting here that Mr Reiner has given us at least two cinematic gemstones that shouldn’t be remade and therefore must be forever cherished, ‘The Princess Bride’ stars Robin Wright, Cary Elwes, and Mandy Patinkin. It also offers truly charming performances by Christopher Guest, Peter Falk, and Carol Kane, among others. 

It’s the heart-warming tale of a farmer-turned-pirate who faces many obstacles in order to be reunited with his one true love. ‘The Princess Bride’ is also, perhaps, the closest we’ll ever get to a veritable movie fairy tale—charming, amusing, wholesome and, at times, adorably ridiculous. Given Sony Pictures Entertainment Chief Executive Tony Vinciquerra’s recent statements, the fans have had some strong reactions, though none have been more convincing than Cary Elwes’, who tweeted: ‘There’s a shortage of perfect movies in this world. It would be a pity to damage this one.’

While ‘The Princess Bride’ was not a box-office hit, it did become a beloved cult classic. And in an age where everyone is trying to remake something, it has become rather exhausting to see perfectly good works of art taken apart and wrapped up in something shiny and glittery that basically kills the very thing that made them unique, in the first place.

There have been excellent remakes, yes. Surely, there will be more. But there are movies that simply must not be touched, for they are perfect just the way they are. It would be a pity to try to do better when we know, deep down, that we cannot.

With the second season of ‘Mindhunter’ (2018) currently streaming on Netflix and excitement already bubbling for the third, it’s time to look at our fascination with serial killers, in general, since it certainly didn’t start last year with David Fincher’s latest directorial masterpiece. For decades, we have been ravenously consuming true crime and fiction stories about them, in books and on the screen. 

From a psychological point of view, the public’s appetite for the macabre has existed since antiquity. The gladiator fights of the ancient Roman Empire, the hangings of suspected witches in Salem and all across North America, the public executions in Britain that went on until the end of the 19th century—these are mere snippets that prove our species’ attachment to violence and bloodshed. When we cannot enact it ourselves, we take pleasure in watching others, specifically authorities, do it. We revel in the violent punishment of evildoers. It is an indisputable fact and an aspect of mankind that we may find unpalatable.

©PATRICK HARBRON/NETFLIX

With the evolution of forensic sciences and investigative techniques, as well as the elimination of public executions from all over the Western world, our attention has been captured by serial murderers, mostly due to the number of victims and often nightmarish ways in which they are killed. These individuals have often caused frenzies, mainly because their crimes seemed so random. Anyone could fall prey to a Jeffrey Dahmer or the BTK Killer.

According to the Crime Classification Manual (whose authors include John Douglas, the original ‘Mindhunter’), a serial killer is an offender who has killed more than three people across different locations, with cooling-off periods in-between each murder.

It often happens that these killers gain incredible notoriety thanks to the police’s public efforts to hunt them down. The authorities’ appeals to the general public through the press and the media inevitably turn these people into infamous, larger-than-life monsters. Of course, the authorities’ sole interest is to capture the killers before they create more victims. The newspapers and journals, however, spring for notoriety, which, in turn, feeds this public craving for morbid details of the actual crimes. 

Today, there are several names in the serial killer hall of fame. Men (and a few women) of a dark, legendary status. Jack the Ripper of Victorian London. H.H Holmes. John Wayne Gacy, nicknamed The Killer Clown. George Metesky, also known as The Mad Bomber. Aileen Wuornos, considered to be the most famous female serial killer. The mysterious Zodiac Killer. Ted Bundy. Charles Manson, the biggest monster of them all. Jeffrey Dahmer. Ed Kemper, best known as The Co-Ed Killer. The list continues, and it is filled with horror—eerily fascinating horror.

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‘Mindhunter’ and the study of monsters.

Forensic psychology has made great progress by studying these murderous behemoths, mainly through the efforts of John Douglas, Robert Ressler, Roy Hazelwood and several other agents behind the Behavioural Analysis Unit of the FBI. The entire project started out as a study based on interviews with serial killers, combined with professional psychiatric and psychological insights, provided mostly by Ann Burgess and her colleagues. It is thanks to them that today we are able to identify patterns and capture serial killers before they reach a devastating death toll—and these are the heroes portrayed in ‘Mindhunter’, as well.

But the critically acclaimed series is not the only one tackling the subject, though it does it exceptionally well. Long before Jonathan Groff, Holt McCallany, and Anna Torv teamed up to learn about serial killers in ‘Mindhunter’, the cinematic universe had already delivered chilling oeuvres such as Alfred Hitchcock’s ‘Psycho’ (1960), starring Anthony Perkins; ‘Monster’ (2003), directed by Patty Jenkins, which earned Charlize Theron an Academy Award; and Jonathan Demme’s ‘The Silence of the Lambs’ (1991), based on Thomas Harris’s novel, featuring Jodie Foster and Anthony Hopkins. 

Today, ‘Mindhunter’ is not alone in portraying psychopaths. But all these productions share a common denominator: they bring the serial killer forth in all his wretched glory. They give us a glimpse into the most deranged of minds while pushing us to make a clear distinction between ‘clinically insane’ and ‘psychopath’. Serial killers are rarely psych-ward material, and they’re often incredibly charming.

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‘Extremely Wicked, Shockingly Evil and Vile’, and yet, pants-off charming.

Zac Efron offered a surprisingly good portrayal of Ted Bundy in ‘Extremely Wicked, Shockingly Evil and Vile’ (2019), but people felt as though the movie was glorifying the ill-famed serial killer through the casting of Mr Efron. What they didn’t immediately understand was that Ted Bundy was exactly as the actor portrayed him—charming, handsome, a true ladies’ man. No one at the time could even believe that he had been the one responsible for more than thirty murders. Even Elizabeth Koepfler, his girlfriend, could not be convinced otherwise, until she learned he’d actually tried to kill her once. The tumultuous relationship led to her writing ‘The Phantom Prince: My Life with Ted Bundy’, which was the basis for ‘Extremely Wicked, Shockingly Evil and Vile’.

And if Mrs Koepfler’s book and Mr Efron’s performance wasn’t enough, Netflix gave us another slice of Ted Bundy through ‘Conversations with a Killer: The Ted Bundy Tapes’. What eventually got him arrested was his own inability to hide his tracks. Truth be told, despite his talent in leading a double life as a loving partner and a remorseless serial killer, Ted Bundy’s only advantage was his charm. He lacked the intelligence and critical thinking to continuously evade the authorities—unlike the Zodiac killer or Ed Kemper, for example. The latter was only caught after he surrendered himself. With every escape from prison, Ted Bundy sank deeper into his own despair, eventually devolving and killing a twelve-year-old girl.

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‘Zodiac’ and the allure of the uncaught. 

David Fincher tried his hand at serial killers before with ‘Zodiac’ (2007), starring Jake Gyllenhaal, Robert Downey Jr., and Mark Ruffalo. Given that the real Zodiac was never found, the film focused on the authorities and the media’s efforts to capture him. But even here, we find ourselves drawn to the story—people kept dying, viciously shot in their cars, while the Zodiac Killer sent puzzles to taunt the police.

There have been numerous documentaries that explore this subject, to the point of absolute exhaustion. It’s how we know more about the killers than we do about their victims. And yet, we still can’t get enough. We’ve brought serial killers into the realm of fiction, too, with ‘Psycho’ and ‘The Silence of the Lambs’ being just two examples. However, the deeper we delve into the psyche of such monsters, the more fascinated we become.

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‘Barry’, the sympathetic hitman.

HBO’s downright superb drama gives us Bill Hader as a hitman from the Midwest who moves to Los Angeles in order to become an actor. While the main character may not immediately come across as a psychopath, he is just that. 

Barry is just smarter because he’s actually making money from killing people. Sure, he wants to explore the city’s theatre arts scene, but his true nature simmers just beneath the surface. He might have good intentions, but he is a serial killer. Even so, we can’t help but like him!

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‘Killing Eve’, or liking the villain a little too much.

Created by Phoebe Waller-Bridge for BBC America, ‘Killing Eve’ has another serial-killer-turned-professional-hitwoman as its central character, exquisitely played by Jodie Comer, going head to head with Sandra Oh’s Eve Polastri. 

We’re drawn to Villanelle. She’s beautiful, resourceful, and incredibly good at her job. We can’t look away, even though we know she’s basically as bad as Ted Bundy, Ed Kemper and any of the other ‘industry greats’, so to speak.

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‘Dexter’, our first favourite serial killer.

Showtime’s ‘Dexter’ is yet another prime example as to why serial killers as main characters works so well. As viewers, we felt better about ourselves knowing that Dexter, so wickedly portrayed by Michael C. Hall, only targeted other murderers. 

We were even compelled to consider him an avenging dark angel of sorts, even though he, too, is basically a textbook psychopath. We rooted for him. We certainly didn’t want him to get caught. A similar effect stemmed from ‘Hannibal’ (2013), as well, whose main character—the renowned psychiatrist turned serial killer, is superbly played by Mads Mikkelsen. These guys are terrifyingly irresistible…

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‘True Detective’ and the fight for justice.

Despite this appeal of serial killer, we do appreciate the hunt. We appreciate cinematic productions where the murderers get caught almost as much as we love the antiheroes who don’t get caught. In that sense, Nic Pizzolatto’s HBO drama, ‘True Detective’, stands out. 

The seasonal anthology series, directed by Cary Joji Fukunaga, among others, tackles the professional and personal lives of the police officers who chase the very darkness we’re so drawn to.

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‘The Fall’, or how the cat chases the mouse and vice versa.

Taking place in Belfast, ‘The Fall’ follows the incomparable Gillian Anderson as a policewoman trying to take down Jamie Dornan’s seemingly passionate father, who is, in fact, a serial killer. For the umpteenth time, we find ourselves wedged between the hunter and the murderer, drawn to both thanks to their complexity.

It is the same with real serial killers. The terrible nature of their crimes is only outmatched by their personalities. We’re continuously astonished by the fact that people who seem completely normal are capable of such terror.

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‘Criminal Minds’, the fictional compendium of serial murder.

Before ‘Mindhunter’, ‘Criminal Minds’ (2005) had already established itself as the go-to source of morbid entertainment—a cornucopia of serial killers stretched across thirteen seasons, now going into its final lap. Most of it is inspired from John Douglas and Robert Ressler’s work with the FBI, though Mr Douglas does mention in the eponymous book on which ‘Mindhunter’ is based that profilers did not run around, guns blazing and breaking down doors in order to catch serial killers. Most of their work revolved around close collaboration with the local police and studying the crime scenes.

Even so, ‘Criminal Minds’ has been, by far, the biggest fix for serial killer aficionados worldwide. And while that might be a relatively troubling thing to say, these productions aren’t just well written, they’re also responsible for bringing some awareness to the general public, where serial murders are involved.

Thanks to them, even we are capable of recognizing certain patterns.

EDMUND EMILE KEMPER, ‘THE CO-ED KILLER’. IMAGE CURTESY OF SANTA CRUZ COUNTY SHERRIFF’S OFFICE

The appeal of serial killers will never die out. As evidenced by the many titles above, along with the honourable mentions, it is clear that we cannot get enough of such complex stories. In many ways, fiction is far more interesting than reality—at least on the screen, the serial killers come across as slightly more three-dimensional than their real-life counterparts.

This fervour isn’t waning, either. More and more true crime stories are coming out. The ‘Serial’ podcast broke records with move than 70 million downloads, a figure never before seen in this particular medium. 

Michelle McNamara’s posthumous book, ‘I’ll Be Gone in the Dark’, was completed by crime writer Paul Haynes, investigative journalist Billy Jensen, and Mrs McNamara’s widower, comedian Patton Oswalt. It wasn’t just a bestseller, it also helped Sacramento Police, who arrested James DeAngelo, a 72-year-old former police officer and the very Golden State Killer that Mrs McNamara had spent years trying to track down. HBO is currently producing a documentary based on the book.

TED BUNDY. ©BETTMANN/GETTY IMAGES

There are museum exhibits about famous serial killers taking place almost every year, most of them sold out—as was the case of the Museum of London in October 2015, when 600 objects from the Metropolitan Police’s crime archives went on show. Harold Schechter, a true crime writer best known for his book ‘Deviant’ (published in 1989 and telling the true story of Ed Gein, the so-called ‘original Psycho’), considers this popular interest ‘a kind of cultural hysteria’.

While serial killers are responsible for less than 1% of murders in the United States, our fascination exceeds our concern as we continue to build this mythology of evil and murder. 

In the end, it is our way of accepting that none of the monsters we create through legends, folklore, books or films come close to the monsters that real people are capable of becoming. After all, and as Joseph Conrad was quoted in the very first episode of ‘Criminal Minds’, saying: ‘The belief in a supernatural source of evil is not necessary. Men alone are quite capable of every wickedness’.