Then again, no one will give Obama any [expletive] credit for all the [expletive] things the president has [expletive] done so far.

Yes, Jackson’s intense screen persona occasionally bleeds into the actor’s off-screen life, if his chat with Newsweek/The Daily Beast is any indication. Jackson shared his disappointment with the Hope and Change Meets Reality Tour before resorting to standard celebrity form. Yeah, but he’s still great:

Actor Samuel L. Jackson, an early supporter of the president, freely admits his ambivalence. “Some days I agree with Dr. West and what he says about the president not dealing enough with the plight of the poor,” says Jackson. “Then I think about how they won’t give him credit for anything… The president got about a week of moderate applause for capturing the most-wanted man in the world. You ask me, he should have put that motherfucker on ice and defrosted his ass Nov. 1.

Actress/director Debbie Allen didn’t bother with any equivocations while endorsing Obama for four more years.

Are things exactly the way I’d like them to be or need them to be? No, but he can get us there if he’s given the time he needs to do it.

Great soundtrack? Yup. Aging actors rescued from obscurity? Yes, indeed. Dialogue so quotable you could print bumper stickers from every other line in the script? Oh, yeah.

But back in 1994, when the film first rocked movie houses, ‘Pulp Fiction’ was simply Tarantino’s entrance into the upper echelon of movie makers. The film hasn’t lost its zip in its new Blu-ray incarnation. If anything, the giddiness Tarantino fuses to the action genre is more appealing in an era of shaky cams and uncertain plot twists.

‘Pulp Fiction’ defies knee-jerk categorization. It’s a series of interlocking stories with a chronological hiccup or two to keep us guessing.

The main story involves a pair of chatty thugs doing the bidding of the mysterious Marsellus (Ving Rhames). Vincent and Jules (John Travolta and Samuel L. Jackson) crack wise in between blood-thirsty assignments. Vincent seems more interested in cultural differences across the pond than doing Marsellus’ dirty work, while Jules has a speech for nearly any occasion.

But Vincent gets more than he bargained for when Marsellus asks him to escort his lovely wife (Uma Thurman) on a platonic date.

Travolta brought his career back from the ‘Look Who’s Talking’ abyss with ‘Fiction.’ Whether it’s acting unsure of his desires around Thurman’s character or tearing up the dance floor with moves inspired by Adam West, Travolta reaffirms his movie star status in spades. His scenes with Thurman crackle with temptation, as Thurman twists Vincent around her manicured finger just for the thrill of it.

Yes, their ensuing dance sequence is worth rewinding, but it’s how their conversations evolve that cements their bond.

Jackson, arguably the best conduit for Tarantino’s rat-a-tat-tat dialogue, makes Jules a fearsome presence no matter how wide the actor’s grin grows.

The second half of ‘Pulp Fiction’ cannot measure up to the first. Bruce Willis’ turn as an aging boxer who refuses to throw a fight is a hoot, but it lacks the panache of those early Travolta sequences. Even when the story heads back to the diner where it all began the film can’t quite recapture that fizzy sense of the unknown.

One can quibble that Tarantino is being too precious with some of the film’s now-iconic moments, like the retro diner where Elvis impersonators mingle with wannabe Jayne Mansfields. But Tarantino’s control of the material is masterful – there’s not a wasted gesture or syllable.

The Blu-ray edition comes packed with six-plus hours of extras, including cast interviews, behind-the-scenes footage, a Tarantino interview on ‘The Charlie Rose Show,’ still galleries and a retrospective on the director’s career featuring Gene Siskel and Roger Ebert.

It’s one reason why his third directorial effort, the slow and soulful “Jackie Brown,” was met with indifference in some quarters.

The 1997 film, out this week on Blu-ray, deserves a second, longer look. Tarantino had more up his sleeve than simply reviving the stalled careers of Pam Grier and Robert Forster. ‘Jackie Brown’ is a tribute to patient, clear-eyed storytelling as much as it is a wet kiss to the blaxploitation era.

The luminous Pam Grier stars as Jackie Brown, a blue-collar flight attendant who makes extra cash by smuggling money for an arms dealer named Ordell (Samuel L. Jackson). When Jackie runs into ATF officials trying to bring Ordell down, she decides to cooperate with the law. But she also lets Ordell know precisely what the agents want her to do. And, if that weren’t enough to juggle, she’s gotten a weary bondsman (Forster) to do her bidding.

Based on Elmore Leonard’s novel ‘Rum Punch,’ ‘Jackie Brown’ purrs with a slow and steady engine built for distance. We get to know each of Tarantino’s characters without the director’s signature flourishes to distract us. That means spending down time Ordell’s stoner girlfriend  (an uber-sexy Bridget Fonda) as well as his partner in crime (Robert De Niro in one of the quietest performances in his career).

Tarantino tends to let his gift for gab drain the tension from otherwise grand movie moments.  Here, the dialogue serves the characters, the characters, in turn, serve the story at large. It’s a near perfect balance, and a sign that the still-young director possessed a serenity beyond his years. Then again, it’s easy to be at peace when you’ve got Jackson vibrating danger as the film’s villain.

Ordell might be the savviest crook in the director’s rogues gallery. You can practically hear his mind calculating a half-dozen angles before letting that slow, sly grin creep back onto his face.

Grier, strutting through the film as if her character had already read the next three pages of the script, stands toe to toe with Ordell. Her sexy sneer puts even the ATF agents (Michael Keaton, Michael Bowen) back on their heels no matter how much evidence they’ve stacked against her. Jackie’s relationship with the bondsman provides even more friction, a middle-aged flirtation between souls sick of their ordinary lives.

No Tarantino discussion is complete without addressing his musical selections. For ‘Jackie Brown,’ the director dips into his oldies songbook anew for tracks from The Delfonics, The Grass Roots and Bloodstone, among others. The choices aren’t obvious – Tarantino the DJ never goes that route – but they add to the sensual vibe behind Jackie’s master plan.

Tarantino films like ‘Kill Bill’ and ‘Pulp Fiction’ deliver far more razzle dazzle than anything found in ‘Jackie Brown,’ and the film lacks the kind of instant pop culture gold he mines almost without effort. But age has been more than kind to Tarantino’s third film. And seeing it today, when most movies bombard us with shaky cams and byzantine plot twists, makes its casual charms all the more rewarding.

The packed Blu-ray edition includes deleted and alternate scenes plus a collection of older material including an interview with Tarantino, the ‘Siskel & Ebert’ review of the film circa 1997, the ‘Chicks with Guns’ video featured in the film and movie trailers featuring both Grier and Forster.

Via Fox Nation:

“Samuel L. Jackson, I guess, disregards the 16.7 percent unemployment rate in the black community, a 20 percent unemployment rate for black adult males and a 45-46 percent unemployment for black teenagers,” the Florida Republican said. “I think the racism that he is talking about is coming out of the White House and this administration.”

West warned Jackson against using the tea party movement as a “scapegoat,” insisting that conservatives are trying to fix the economy and turn around the unemployment numbers in the black community.

The perfect example? Herman Cain.

West said the Republican presidential candidate “negates” the recent comments by Jackson and Freeman.

“I think that what you’re seeing with Herman Cain is someone that is against the tide. He is not a career politician, he is coming forth with common sense solutions with what is happening in our country,” he said.

More at Politico.

Late last month, Oscar winner Morgan Freeman blamed racism on the Republican party’s eagerness to see President Barack Obama defeated.

This week, Jackson told a reporter from New York Magazine (after said reporter used the scurrilous Washington Post story on Rick Perry’s so-called racist rock) that the reason Tea Partiers want Obama out because of his skin color, not his policies.

“The division of the country is not about the government having too much power. I think everything right now is geared toward getting that guy out of office, whatever that means,” he said, echoing Freeman. “It’s not politics. It is not economics. It all boils down to pretty much to race. It is a shame.”

Their collective proof is so poorly constructed even a half-asleep Chris Matthews could swat it aside without eyeballing a teleprompter.

Both claim that since the Tea Party is hell bent on removing President Obama from office it must be because he’s black.

That’s it. No swarm of protest signs at Tea Party events trumpeting racist slogans. No quotes from major Tea Party darlings like Sarah Palin that indicate hatred or disdain for people of color. No new proposals designed to specifically injure people of color.

And where were Jackson and Freeman when President George W. Bush called the White House home? The entertainment industry was obsessed with removing him from office. We saw a film detailing Bush’s assassination, read fiction tackling similar themes and watched documentary after documentary imploring us to vote for anyone but Bush.

Was that about race, or did Bush’s critics simply want someone else leading the country?

So, that puts the ball squarely in the media’s court. They’ve got a hot story to work with, one that’s topical and touches on the third rail of our culture – race. And they’ve got two actors ready and willing to plug their latest projects. Freeman is out promoting the surprise hit “Dolphin Tale,” while Jackson is making his Broadway this month in “The Mountaintop.”

Here’s betting both are up for a press phoner or two, maybe more. Will any intrepid reporter ask them to back up their claims? How about asking either fine actor their thoughts on comedian George Lopez calling black Tea Party favorite Hermain Cain “whiter” on the inside?

On Wednesday night, Quentin Tarantino was roasted at the New York Friars’ Club. Some of Hollywood’s most famous and talented stars were on hand, many of who did the actual roasting. Among them Samuel L. Jackson, Jerry Lewis, Sarah Silverman, Rob Schneider, Eli Roth, and Neve Campbell. One shameless roaster named Whitney Cummings, often seen on Chelsea Lately, delivered the most buzz-worthy/cringe-worthy line of the night:

[Tarantino has] produced more retarded things than Sarah Palin’s vagina.

Somewhere out there, Andrew Dice Clay is blushing. Not because the joke is off-color, he doesn’t care about that. He’s flushed because it’s unfunny, stolen hackery.

Let’s deal with the unfunny part first: Who is the butt of this joke? A toddler who suffers from down-syndrome and the mother that chose not to destroy him while he was in the womb. Yikes. Regarding Trig: Lay. Off. The. Kids. Okay? Regarding Mama Palin: Is it possible to write a more obvious joke on a more obvious target? I’m sure Ms. Cummings fancies herself irreverent; what would be truly irreverent is if she would harness a little of that hate that dwells in her dreary heart and direct it toward someone who is actually in power. Here are some possible targets she may want to consider: Barack Obama, Michelle Obama, Harry Reid, Nancy Pelosi, or Joe Biden (notice how I’m not mentioning Obama’s children?). If she insists on resorting to humor that’s main attribute is shock-value, why not try a target that might actually shock someone?

Now let’s deal with the hackery part. It’s one thing that Whitney Cummings is mean-spirited, vulgar, and boring, but it’s quite another that she stole this joke. Here’s a super-NSFW clip of Louis CK on Opie and Anthony going on a jag against Sarah Palin that ends with him referring to her vagina as a “retard-making cunt.”

You mean Whitney Cummings isn’t the first to make a “Sarah Palin’s vagina produces retarded things” joke?!? Waaahhhh?? Actually, she’s not even the second. Here’s a joke from the popular comedy site eBaum’s world:

What is the difference between Sarah Palin’s mouth and her vagina?

Not everything that comes out of her vagina is retarded.

John Nolte has thoroughly detailed that the depraved Louis CK took the gold at the Degenerate Olympics for his attempt to induce vomiting with a single phrase, but I think Cummings did him one better. At least when CK savaged Trig Palin and Sarah’s birth canal, his idea was probably original.

Meet Whitney Cummings: the up-and-coming comic who rips-off other people’s jokes about handicapped babies and the moms who choose not to abort them. The University of Pennsylvania must be proud of their alumnus.

I reached out to a stand-up comedian friend to verify my observation that this might not have been her joke, and he confirmed “it’s a steal.” Apparently this isn’t the first time either: “She’s stolen more jokes than Rickey Henderson stole bases,” he said. “She’s Carlos Mencia with a penis.”

Furthermore, telling a joke that isn’t your own at this particular venue is incredibly stupid. This isn’t the junior high school cafeteria and she’s not getting yucks from the cool kids by regurgitating Deep Thoughts she’s memorized. Cummings shared the stage with some of Hollywood’s biggest names, only to tell and take credit for a joke that’s shamelessly derivative at best and plagiarism at worst. The depravity of the joke is only surpassed by the arrogance of it.

But unfortunately, this is likely the last you’ll hear on this topic—NOW will be AWOL and we all know that hate and bullying directed toward Sarah Palin and her family isn’t the type of hate and bullying the NO H8/anti-bullying crowd cares to fight. (This is particularly telling of how backwards the Left’s priorities are, because unlike helpless Trig Palin, gay teens and adults are fully capable of defending themselves against bullies.)

So the Left’s obsession with Sarah Palin’s vagina and uterus continues and classless comedians still single out Trig as the only mentally challenged baby in America that’s fair game for public ridicule. While the smiley-faced Palins soldier-on, fending off horrendous indignity after horrendous indignity, joyless, joke-stealing scolds like Whitney Cummings continue to speak truth to out-of-power in the cheapest, laziest, and ugliest ways possible.

That’s a shame, because Unthinkable, a ripped from the headlines suspense thriller, starring Samuel L. Jackson, Carrie-Ann Moss, Michael Sheen and Brendan Routh, asks the sorts of questions we should be asking in our era of terror. It has all the hallmarks of an excellent 24 episode, save one — the threat seems far too real and it isn’t clear that the FBI is tough enough to save us.

—–

The movie opens to grainy footage of Sheen in a warehouse.  The camera flickers on, Sheen stammers something, grows dissatisfied and the he turns the camera off. At first blush, these seem like outtakes, until he regains himself. “In the name of Allah, the merciful, and his Prophet Mohammed, peace be upon him, my name is Yousef Atta Mohammed. My former name is Stephen Arthur Younger.”

It’s a scene we’ve seen before – on the news, but never from Hollywood. Younger is all American: ex-military, a Muslim convert, and a nuclear weapons specialist, who has placed three nuclear weapons in three American cities. Paid by Iran to smuggle fissionable material out of Russia, he went rogue, surfacing once more in America where he allowed himself to be captured. He is our very worst fear, a fear which seems all too plausible after Ft. Hood.

If Younger is our worst fear, then careerist FBI Agent Helen Brody (Moss) is his greatest enabler and black ops interrogator “H” (Samuel L. Jackson) our best hope. Tasked to find the three bombs, Brody and H lead an interrogation team to get Younger to talk. Their approaches couldn’t be more different. To get to the truth, H tortures him, while Brody coddles him, revealing, at last, America’s schizophrenic position on torture and self-preservation. This is not a conflict with radical Islam; it is a conflict over to what extents we will preserve our civilization against its most nihilistic enemies.

**MAJOR SPOILERS**

Which, as H reminds us, is not the terrorist, but Agent Brody. She has the kind of impeccable credentials that the ACLU would love for every FBI agent to have. She’s a careerist Harvard Law graduate who chose career over family. She exudes multiculturalism, telling Younger that she admires the Koran, and that, after one torture session, he is “one of the bravest men I know.”

Consistently, she waxes about the Geneva Convention, the illegality of it all, and she, along with her boss, promise that when it is all over with, they’ll bring a civil rights prosecution against H and the government for torturing a guy who wants to kill millions of Americans. Indeed, her first encounter with Younger, she tells him that his “situation here is illegal” and that she’s “going to get you out of here so you can talk.”

In lines that could have been written by Andrew Sullivan, Moss tells him that he’s not “going to get any “information” anyways, “You do this and he’ll say anything and none of it will be true. Physical torture doesn’t work.”

To which H, dismantling the fashionable “torture-doesn’t-work” lie, replies, “So I guess that’s why they have been using it since the beginning of human history, huh? For fun?”

H tells her, “It’s not about the enemy. It’s about us. Our weakness. We’re on the losing side, Helen. We’re afraid, they are not. We have doubt, they believe.” He asks her how many lives our values have cost. Later, she tells him that everyone wants to be free, only to have H rebut, that not everyone wants to be free.

How right he is.

That, unfortunately, is the closest the film gets to seriously considering the morality of torture or our tepid response to evil.

The film doesn’t seriously consider that H might be doing good. He is, instead, seen as something of a necessary evil, sanctioned by the government but never applauded for being essential. At times, he even accepts this role, easily, telling Younger that there is no good in the world, only defeat and victory. As the clock ticks down and the bombs seem ready to go off, H asks the only decent person in the room – Brody – if he can torture Younger’s children to find the location of a probable fourth bomb.

She tells him emphatically, “We can’t do this. We’re f—ing humans. Let the bomb go off!” H nods and the final scene shows the bomb counting down to zero and then fading to black.

Never has a better argument been made for the essential nihilism of the Left. They tell us, “We’re so civilized that we’re willing to let our civilization go up in a mushroom cloud.” And go up in smoke it will.

I’ve only been in “Hollywood” the past few years. My experience is limited to a couple of TV writing credits, serving as the technical advisor for two series, consulting on several projects, and pitching a spec pilot around town. I’ve found a little more success in having two books published: a recently released thriller and a true-crime autobiography of my undercover work in the FBI. But even with my limited experience, I realize what you read in a script is not necessarily what makes it to the big screen. All this to say, I have not seen “Unthinkable” starring Samuel L. Jackson, but I have read a late version of London-born and British-educated Peter Woodward’s script. 

 ——

I always hated it in high school English when the teacher wanted to know the poet’s intent for a particular verse. I never saw any deeper meaning than he wanted the words to rhyme, so I don’t pretend to question why this script was written or produced. The screenplay has a lot of action and will probably stimulate controversy on both sides of the aisle. It asks the question “to what length do we go to obtain information which will potentially save hundreds possibly thousands of lives?” 

Maybe as a caveat before reading any further I should tell you: my son is a Marine; I have no problem with the enhanced interrogation techniques as employed by the Bush administration; there is a lot I would do to save the lives of our servicemen and women who risk their lives daily because our nation asked; I have fired my service weapon in the heat of battle; and have absolutely no issue with defending myself or others who are in grave physical danger. 

There’s a maxim in the law: Bad cases make bad law. In other words many Supreme Court decisions were made as the result of egregious behavior where someone overstepped his bounds and now everyone is saddled with the overly-broad court-imposed restrictions. This movie certainly paints a worse case scenario for invoking both the law and the most extreme interrogation techniques. A Muslim terrorist threatens to detonate not one, not two, but three nuclear bombs in the United States, and a team of federal officials from the various alphabet agencies and the military, as well as some private contractors, are tasked with protecting America. 

In August, 2005 Hurricane Katrina devastated much of the Gulf Coast. It was one of the deadliest hurricanes in U.S. history. President Bush was criticized for his handling of the disaster, especially in Louisiana, even though the governor of any state has the initial responsibility for insuring that state’s security. As a result of the disaster, Congress in a short paragraph hidden within a much larger bill provided the president with expanded authority. 

“Unthinkable” is centered around that tiny paragraph in the John Warner Defense Authorization Act of 2007 specifically the provisions at Title X, subtitle H, Section 1076 which in summary: 

Revises federal provisions allowing the President to utilize the Armed Forces in connection with interference with federal and state law to allow the President to employ the Armed Forces and National Guard in federal service to restore public order in cases of natural disaster, epidemic or other public health emergency, terrorist attack or incident, or domestic violence. Requires the President to notify Congress within 14 days of the exercise of such authority. Authorizes the President, when exercising such authority, to direct the Secretary to provide supplies, services, and equipment to persons affected by the situation.  

The problem from a reality standpoint for the “Unthinkable” script is this section was repealed in 2008 so it’s no longer relevant but Hollywood would never let that stand in the way of a project. 

Like most Hollywood thrillers, it’s over-the-top but raises some interesting issues if you want to be more than entertained. 

I applaud Woodward for making the terrorist a Muslim who according to intelligence sources was paid by the Iranians to smuggle nuclear material out of Russia. The now rogue terrorist living in the United States is a naturalized U.S. citizen who has his citizenship revoked by the President. He allows himself to be captured after releasing a video threat to detonate three nuclear devices. 

Initially, the FBI is tasked to “bring them all in…all of them, talk to their families…every single contact you have in every single file.” Later in the screenplay we learn the FBI rounds up 120 residents and holds them in some facility where they are to be interrogated after being Mirandized…yeah right, that happened just about every other day during my twenty-six year career. (For those of you on both ends of the political spectrum, I’m being sarcastic). 

The Bureau goes to the home of Samuel L. Jackson and his family who are in some kind of Witness Protection Program. The powers–to-be inadvertently put him on a list of possible people of interest, thus the FBI’s misguided interest in him as part of this round-up of residents to be interrogated. During the confrontation, Jackson shoots an FBI agent. Just as the FBI commences its investigation, the military steps in, invoking the Defense Authorization Act of 2007 which, as I said, has been repealed. A bit confusing but it’s Hollywood and we need to get to the meat of the problem…since Jackson, a civilian contractor, is apparently the only one who can conduct this most important interrogation, how far do we let him go to save American lives? 

My guess is Eric Holder would read the terrorist his rights and hope the bad-boy cooperates after consultation with his court-appointed attorney who more than likely will tell his client to shut up until the government has a deal on the table. Others would cheer Jackson on and encourage him to go well beyond the tactics he employs in the script which can best be described as “brutal.” 

The question I have is why do so many in Hollywood insist on painting the United States in the darkest hue? The interrogation techniques Jackson uses are heinous, far outside those permissible under even the most liberal interpretation of the Enhanced Interrogation Techniques (EIT) policy of the Bush administration which like the provisions of the Defense Authorization Act of 2007 have been revoked. John Helgerson, the former CIA Inspector General, whose 2004 report on the use of EIT cites nothing even close to Jackson’s actions in the script. Yet Hollywood wants us to believe our military and law enforcement personnel would stand by and allow this brutality to happen. 

So we have a script based upon a law which has been revoked and a policy no longer in effect. Even when both were viable, nothing even close to what is to be portrayed on the big screen ever happened. I am certain there will be those who watch this and believe all this is business as usual for our military and law enforcement personnel and seek to have even further restrictions placed on our public servants. 

After four years on active duty in the Marine Corps, after twenty-six years as an FBI agent, after numerous discussions with my son and his men, after repeated conversations with high-ranking military and government officials, I still believe this to be the greatest nation in the world, defended by some of the most honorable men and women ever to serve. Maybe at least once or twice a year Hollywood would remember in a positive way those who risk so much for the far too many who have forgotten.

Director Spike Lee’s third film, “Do the Right Thing,” hasn’t aged a day since its 1989 release. The film’s misguided views on violence were wrong-headed the second it hit theaters. And the election of President Barack Obama surely puts some of the film’s victimization subtext in fresh perspective. But as sheer entertainment, “Thing” remains a blistering experience, the culmination of every one of Lee’s unique gifts as a filmmaker.

The film’s re-release on DVD June 30 reminds us Lee hasn’t come anywhere close to matching “Thing’s” raw power in the intervening years.

“Thing” stars Lee as Mookie, a disinterested pizza delivery man working on the hottest day of the summer in the Bed-Stuy section of Brooklyn. Pizza shop owner Sal (Danny Aiello) is thoroughly old school, and his bickering sons (John Turturro and Richard Edson) are hardly paragons of virtue. But Sal doesn’t have hate in his heart for his customers, who are almost all black. His food has fed them for years, he says with pride.

But a local radical (Giancarlo Esposito) doesn’t like Sal’s shop because it features a gallery of Italian-Americans on the wall – and no African-Americans. The disgruntled customer isn’t the only one on edge. The sweltering heat has everyone in a foul mood. It’s the perfect catalyst for what follows.

Lee’s films routinely polarize audiences and critics alike, but often at the expense of narrative and character development. Here, every Lee element falls right in place.

Cinematographer Ernest Dickerson, a director in his own right (“Bulletproof,” “Surviving the Game”), burnishes the screen with shades of brick orange to evoke a melting pot bubbling over.

Scene after scene crackles with out-sized characters, often anchored by terrific actors (Ossie Davis, Samuel L. Jackson among them). The film helped introduce Rosie Perez, Jackson and Martin Lawrence to the movie going public.

There’s not a wasted frame in the film. Every sequence has a purpose and a pulse, and the debates it inspired 20 years ago are still raging in one form or another today.

“Do the Right Thing” slips in a few telegraphed punches, like a brick wall emblazoned with the message “Tawana told the truth,” a reference to the racially charged Tawana Brawley case of the era.

The DVD features the usual gaggle of extras, from commentary by Lee and a self-congratulatory reunion of the cast.

Lee’s racial politics typically rub conservative audiences the wrong way. But with “Do the Right Thing,” Lee proved he could make a film that rose above ideological battle lines.

Creepy, right? I have not seen Haunting and will probably wait for DVD or pay cable, but that is a weird, startling, attention-grabbing image. As a movie junkie, I love good movie art. The best movie posters are evocative. They capture what a movie is all about without giving away the mystery. There are certain movie posters that instantly put me back in that theatre experiencing the film for the very first time. The best movie posters are not just promotional tools. They stand as a work of art on their own. These are my favorites, buit it is by no means a definitive list. Feel free to add your favorites (and subtract any of mine).

#1 – JAWS
I saw this all-time classic as a 9-year-old on opening day, and saw it a second time at the Saturday matinee. To this day, I am afraid to swim in the ocean. That shark is always there in my imagination. The poster is literal, but haunting.

#2 – CHINATOWN
This is truly a work of art. The smoke shrouding the ultimate mystery of Evelyn Mulwray, and the stylized version of Jake Gittes (played by Jack Nicholson), the hard-boiled detective who unravels it all.

#3 – THE DARK KNIGHT
Impossible to separate Heath Ledger’s death from his remarkable interpretation of The Joker. This is an amazing image. In 30 years, I will look at this poster and immediately feel the impact of Christopher Nolan’s masterpiece.

#4 – BREAKFAST AT TIFFANY’S
You can almost hear Audrey Hepburn warbling “Moon River” at the sight of this iconic poster. Every woman wanted to be her and every man wanted to be with her.

#5 – SECRETARY
The 2002 cult classic about a sadomasochistic relationship between a demanding lawyer (James Spader) and a submissive secretary (Maggie Gyllenhaal). The movie is an under-appreciated gem. The poster may be even better.

#6 – UNFORGIVEN
This is my favorite poster made for Clint Eastwood’s masterful revisionist Western. Simple. Classic. Tells you everything you need to know about Clint’s Bill Munny character.

#7 – AMERICAN BEAUTY
A beautiful image that suggests the perversity that lies just beneath the surface of the suburban neighborhood created by screenwriter Alan Ball and director Sam Mendes.

#8 – SILENCE OF THE LAMBS
“You will let me know when those lambs stop screaming, won’t you?” You can almost hear Dr. Hannibal Lecter say it. The Death’s-head moth “lodged” in Clarice Starling’s throat. Brilliant image.

#9 – VERTIGO
An ode to acrophobia as Detective Scottie Ferguson (as played by Jimmy Stewart) battles his fear of heights while becoming obsessed with Madeleine Elster (the stunning Kim Novak). This kaleidoscopic design immediately brings the strains of Bernard Hermann’s amazing score into my head.

#10 – PULP FICTION
Uma Thurman as Mia Wallace in all her swagger. Yes, she does wind up with a sharpie circle on her chest and a shot of adrenaline, but the whole gritty movie is captured with this image.

HONORABLE MENTION
- in no particular order -
A CLOCKWORK ORANGE
SWEENEY TODD
MEAN STREETS
AMADEUS
GONE WITH THE WIND
METROPOLIS
KING KONG (1939 Fay Wray version)
CLOVERFIELD
THE SEVEN YEAR ITCH
2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY

Steve Mason is on Facebook and now also on Twitter@LAMase.