Okay, there's actually twelve on the list. (No. 9 is a tie, too.) Let's start with Menace.
It came out in 1993 as a response to John Singleton's Boyz n the Hood. See, the Hughes brothers didn't think that Singleton's pic was tough enough. So, they made their own L.A. gang-banger pic. And what a goddamn response it was, especially since they made this movie when they were 21. It has all of the same elements as Boyz: A born and bred gang-banger, someone thinking about leaving the hood, girlfriends, strong/weak parental figures, cops, and violence. But it is all done at such a dirtier, grimier level, you just feel as if the characters are more human and act/react they same way you would. In other words, Albert and Allen accomplished what they set off to do. Look at the characters themselves.
Clearly, in Boyz, Doughboy, Tre, and Ricky are supposed to represent individual segments of the black population, and while they all interact with each other, Singleton never really lets them go beyond the type of man each is supposed to be. The Hughes Brothers just said fuck it. Everyone's got weaknesses, so why not have our characters show that. Caine is clearly supposed to be their Tre. But unlike Tre, he is also part fucking Thug. Such as when he tells the girl he knocked up that it can't be his kid, because he "had the jimmy-hat on extra-tight." O-Dog, who is supposed to counter Doughboy, actually makes you wonder if Tate was the one who wrote all of NWA's lyrics, as opposed to Cube. Doughboy is tough, but in the end you kind of like him. On the other hand, you fucking fear O-Dog and silently hope that he dies, too afraid to actually say it on the off-chance he might actually come through the goddamn screen.
Finally, the violence. Simply, you knew when it was coming in Boyz, you never did in Menace. You knew Ricky was a dead man, but don't tell me you knew O-Dog was going to shoot the bum who offered to suck his dick and then eat the dude's fucking hamburger. Jesus Christ. Boyz was good and deserved much of the praise it got because it was original. But this movie tops it in every way.
On a lighter note, there's Field of Dreams. I know, some of you are thinking it's just typical Hollywood sentimental schlock. It's not, but I'll get to that in a minute. First and foremost, the movie is about baseball, obviously. And in today's world of Barry Bonds, the film takes on cultural significance simply because of that. Sports has had, and will always have, an important role in the lives of many Americans, and until my generation, baseball was king. This movie serves as a reminder to why that was, and maybe should be again. In it's purest form, baseball is a beautiful sport. It's simplicity and complexity work so well together, it's impossible not to wonder if a more perfect sport has been created. (I argue yes, but I think baseball has a pretty good case.)
Second, the movie is about the 60's and what happened to flower power after Ronald Reagan. A little bit of this story line exists in the relationship between Annie and Ray Kinsella. But it is brought to perfection with James Earl Jones' character, Terrence Mann. Mann, the author of the fictionalized work, The Boat Rocker, is a writer who just always wanted to be that. He seems to have once embraced what the sixties were about, but after having to listen to one too many stories about how people rebelled against their parents, he is now completely burnt-out and living by himself. In the end, I think it works as a beautiful analogy for that time period.
Finally, the movie is about fathers and sons and the reason that I say the movie is more than just sentimental fluff. I saw the movie for the first time when I was young enough to still unquestionably love my father, and thought it pretty good. But it wasn't until I had lived a few more years that I really got it. In the film, you learn that Ray's father had at one time been a pro ball player long before he was born. Costner never really got a chance to know that part of his dad, and only knew him after life had worn him down. Largely because of this, Ray's relationship with his father was strained, culminating in him moving out when he was in his early teens after reading Mann's book and not coming home when his dad became ill. The regret he feels is told through Kinsella lamenting about how he stopped playing catch with his old man and it feels unbelievably real.
My dad and I never got along too well when I reached high school and throughout the time I was in college. But the one thing we always had that we could talk about or bond over was sports. We shot basketball, threw the football, and pitched the occasional baseball. And when we were done with that, we would watch them on television. All of it together. One summer though we didn't talk to each other. Not a single word, June through August.
Field of Dreams ends with Kinsella finding his dad, John, out on the baseball diamond. Ray recognizes him, but his dad does not, or so we're led to believe. They talk for a couple of minutes, with Ray complimenting him on his game and introducing John to his granddaughter. As the older Kinsella turns to leave, Ray goes, "Hey, dad...wanna have a catch?" John agrees, and the movie slowly fades out. I cry every goddamn time. You can probably guess why.
The last shot is of a line of cars, going on for miles, heading towards the diamond. To me, it symbolizes all of the people who wish they could have those moments, like Ray's, back with their parents. I know I want that summer back.
"Is this heaven?"
"No, it's Iowa."
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