I was 13 when I learned about the AFI Top 100. Before then, my exposure to the classics were limited to what free TV had to offer on Sundays and posters on Pancake House’s walls. It was a formative period, as any newly minted teen would expect. In my case, it’s when I started to get drawn to movies.
See, my film craze began almost concurrently with my music craze. Two years after I started with cassettes, I started accumulating VHS tapes as well. Pin it down, perhaps, on MTV also covering movies, with annuals like the MTV Movie Awards and the short-lived weekly series MTV Screen. So, the crossover was really bound to happen. Before I knew it, Astrovision and Video City made it into my weekend itinerary. Odyssey alone no longer sufficed.
Iceberg-Free Horizons
It was earlier that year when I saw Titanic. It was 1998, long before IMAX and all other modern cinema gimmickry. Needless to say, I was spellbound. It was the first movie epic I watched on the big screen, and the first to keep me hooked despite the elongated running time.
That was until I stumbled upon the list, or one-tenth of it at least, months later. I was leafing through an entertainment magazine when I saw a print ad showcasing the Top 10. I remember wondering with utmost naivete, “Where’s Titanic?”. That’s when it became clear, and to paraphrase from the one of the entries: “I ain’t seen nothing yet.”
Questionable Legacy
Just as my country marked its centennial that year, cinema also celebrated its 100th anniversary. To commemorate that milestone, the American Film Institute released a countdown of 100 American movies voted culturally significant by a panel of 1,500 film professionals. The final selection was culled from a shortlist of 400 nominees and was revealed in a CBS special aptly titled “100 Years…100 Movies”.
25 years later, the list didn’t age well, and arguably, neither did some of the entries. For starters, every single piece was directed by a Caucasian male. It only took the 2007 re-hash to include two filmmakers of color (Spike Lee and M. Night Shyamalan), while female representation remained nil. It’s the same premise why we had hashtags like #OscarsSoWhite.
And it’s not like there was no backlash from the start. When the list came out, many questioned the placements, the dubious inclusions, and the ineligibility of documentaries and non-English films. Observers also scratched their heads at the inclusion of British entries, the salient argument being: does U.S. distribution automatically make them U.S. films? Those loopholes were never resolved, but that didn’t stop the likes of The Bridge on the River Kwai and Lawrence of Arabia to rank as high as 13th and 5th, respectively. That didn’t stop my curiosity from expanding either. For what’s a poll result anyway, but an amplified opinion? No ranking can ever taint the impact of the individual entries. List or no list, they’re all regarded as must-sees.
Off-shoots of the countdown emerged nonetheless. Over the succeeding decade, the AFI also released lists concentrated on specific genres or emotions, like comedy (100 Laughs), thrillers (100 Thrills), and romance (100 Passions). Those were curiosity pieces at best, as their respective list toppers were already in the original curation. By 2008, they concluded their centennial festivities with 10 Top 10. Put directly, they’re the Top 10 of 10 highlighted genres, including Westerns, courtroom, war, and sports.
Focus Diverted
When I started collecting movies, my focus was on the previous year’s blockbusters. So, yes, Titanic was a shoo-in, and so were Face/Off, Men in Black, and The Lost World: Jurassic Park. Then, came a brief phase where I was fixated on slasher movies, thanks to the likes if I Know What You Did Last Summer and Scream 2 being released almost simultaneously. Of course, that meant having to catch up on the latter’s predecessor, which I was too young to appreciate (or, for that matter, watch) when it was released. Thanks to the myriad of film references of Wes Craven’s gorefest, my interest was fueled anew. I was introduced to Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho, which Gus Van Sant dared to remake around that time. Consequently, my collection was diverted.
By 1999, I had already seen the list in its entirety. At the time, “Greatest” lists were dime a dozen, but something in the selections enticed me. By the turn of the new millennium, Gone With the Wind and To Kill a Mockingbird had made it to my shelf, followed by The Wizard of Oz and a terribly colorized version of Casablanca by early 2000. It wasn’t until a few months later, when a Buy 2, Take 6 promo in Astrovision led me to the likes of Chinatown, Tootsie, and It Happened One Night. That’s when I realized that I was on for a mission.
Eight-Year Mission
I spent the next eight years collecting the entries (and then some). That undertaking spanned two key chapters of my life, namely high school and college, and two physical formats. With VCD not being an option then, I adamantly stuck with VHS. Rental stores were an added mecca at the time, especially when they’d sell ex-rentals at amazing bargains. All I had to do was scrimp hundreds from my weekly allowance and I’d score used copies – replete with Be Kind, Rewind stickers, at PHP50 – PHP100. It’s how I got my first copy of Rocky.
Then the opportunity to travel abroad (first time since pre-school) presented itself. That was when I acquired the higher placers, like the list-topping Citizen Kane and the holiday staple, It’s a Wonderful Life. Yet, even on that level, certain titles remained elusive. Turns out, a number of them were already out of print, like Disney’s Fantasia, and the format itself was quickly becoming obsolete.
By college, I had shifted to DVDs, with Ben-Hur kicking off that phase. I was a freshman when I was mesmerized by Norma Desmond in Sunset Boulevard and a junior when I marveled at the rampant sarcasm of All About Eve. And, coincidentally, those two were neck-and-neck at the Academy Awards during their year. As graduation beckoned, I was only 10 entries short of completion.
It took a two-month stay in Chicago to score the remainder. Among them were the Westerns High Noon and Dances with Wolves and the ultra-sharp TV satire Network. By the time I flew back home, only one entry left unacquired: Carol Reed’s The Third Man, one of the dubiously included British entries. That didn’t require much of a wait, as I received my copy as pasalubong one month later. And before I knew it, I had secured the milestone.
It was June 2007 when I completed the list. That’s nine years after the first unveiling and, ironically, weeks before the updated edition was unveiled (Titanic finally made that one). Much as the re-ranking rendered the original version archaic, I marveled at my petty triumph. It was the first time I actually completed a collection. Consequently, a movie marathon was due.
The Countdown Marathon
I was four months into my first job when I took on the challenge – to watch every entry, countdown style, within an undefined time period without having to sacrifice much activity (or sleep). Since my work hours still ended at 7:00PM, I thought, what harm could sparing two more hours do, three or four if we’re talking about epics? After all, it wasn’t like I gave myself a deadline. I afforded the stretch.
At the time, my collection was still a hybrid of two formats. Fortunately, my creaky VHS player still worked, though I knew full well its days were numbered. It’s the rewinder which had given up. Either way, I insisted on conducting the marathon in reverse, ascending order – even if t required shifting formats on occasion. My MTV Chart Show upbringing required as much.
Unbelievably, the effort blended with my then-simple schedule. Either I’d end my day with it during weekdays or start with it during weekends. Outside of that, I still managed to see friends, run errands, and I didn’t have to skip Miss World 2007. Having commenced during the Ber Months, my Christmas had a peculiar twist.
By the time I reached the list’s twenties, I became a regular in my job. So, the task didn’t only concur with my day-to-day ventures. It also coincided with milestones. In late January 2008, just a few weeks before I turned 23, I completed the countdown.
The Decade or So After
As responsibilities increased in both volume and complexity, none of my subsequent attempts to recreate the marathon ever progressed. The closest was in 2010, but I stalled with the Star Wars franchise. Around that time, I was fresh from my departure from that first job and my entry into film school. It was a leap of faith I made because I didn’t want to settle with being a dilettante and I wanted more out of the passion. While I’ve yet to put those learnings into practice once again, I did start seeing the entries with a more critical eye. Inevitably, I discovered new favorites along the way. I may have started with that list, but I didn’t necessarily have to end there.
I spent the next few years replacing my remaining VHS copies with DVDs. But as streaming started to become the rage, I eased down from physical copies altogether in 2016. It was a necessary transition, given how record stores were slowly vanishing, and Marie Kondo had become a movement. My collection, however, remains displayed (or enshrined) at home. See, I’ve always had a thing for honoring roots, wherever that may apply. That includes the hobbies that define me.
Another recent hurdle was disc rot rearing its ugly head. Fact is, these things have lifespans, and, to my horror, there were casualties. Thanks to the dawn of shopping apps, though, I managed to score replacement copies over lockdown. And when my trusty old DVD player itself finally gave in after 19 years, the same salvaging powers were utilized. Though, I’m fully aware that some of the entries are already streaming online, there’s nostalgia in keeping the physical copies within reach.
It’s been 25 years since the original AFI Top 100. Within that time span, I developed the passion, took the course, only to shelf the dream for practical reasons (for now). That’s more than enough time for sensibilities, and more so, priorities to evolve. But the storyteller’s instinct is still there, only dormant.
Antiquated as the list is now, I still credit it for putting me on this path, one defined by continued expansion and discovery. After all, what good is an open door if we don’t further explore what’s beyond? Still, that three-month movie marathon remains a magical memory. It’s something I’m inclined to relive, just to reassess how far I’ve come.
Now, to check if that bargain DVD player works...
Planet Chuckie 