Chinatown

#44 at time of writing.

This late take on the film noir genre is renowned as having one of the best scripts of all time. The story is indeed clever, if a little complicated at first. Even if you do feel a bit lost at the beginning, it is definitely worth sticking it out while the scale of the conspiracy is discovered and the sense of menace grows.

The characters are wonderful, with Jack Nicholson playing private eye Jake Gittes, who manages never to be out of his depth simply because he has so much of it; and Faye Dunaway playing femme fatale Evelyn Mulwray, cloaked in mystery, and eventually tragedy.

Amusingly, the role of Evelyn Mulwray was originally intended for the producer's wife, Ali MacGraw, but she lost the role when she divorced him for Steve McQueen.

This film manages to be an evocative noir despite being in full colour - the only darkness is provided by the characters themselves. And the atmosphere is underpinned beautifully by haunting trumpet solos throughout.

The bitter taste of injustice that you are left with at the end is all the more poignant because the scandals that inspired the story are based on truth.

Taxi Driver

#37 at time of writing.

This film is extremely high up IMDb's Top 250 list. I was expecting to be blown away - not by CGI and melodrama, but by being forced to think and to reassess the world I live in - that's what makes a great film for me. But I didn't get what I expected.

Instead I got an understated, slow-burning, sinister film. A good film, but it probably would not have made my personal top 250. Then again, now that I am making more of an effort to watch the so-called classics, maybe I need to rethink my opinion on what makes a good film.

I also recently watched the classic films that made Jack Nicholson an A-lister: Easy Rider and Five Easy Pieces. They too were slow-burning, cynical, unexpected films that were undeniably very good, but perhaps not to my taste. But, a week or two later, I remember them. I remember the crucial scenes. They have made an impression on me. They linger. So maybe they are making me reassess the world I live in, in a subtler, deeper way. Maybe these nuanced films will blindside me, and by the time I get round to watching them again, I won't understand why I didn't always love them.

Robert De Niro has been rightly lauded for his infinitely sensitive portrayal of Travis Bickle, the insomniac Vietnam vet of limited intelligence whose job as a cabbie hides him from all but the seediest sides of society until it's all he knows. De Niro worked twelve-hour days for a month driving cabs as preparation for the role. And he was clearly under the character's skin - his most famous line from the film was improvised. I had always assumed "You talkin' to me?" would be scary and menacing, but it was dripping with sadness and isolation.