The 1960s witnessed a transition from traditional conservative values of the 1950s to a more inclusive, progressive mindset. This change came with a price: social upheaval marked the decade that brought us the Hippie Movement and Vietnam War, with related sentiments mirrored in the films of the 60s.
Dr. Strangelove, or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964)
Stanley Kubrick’s brilliant dark comedy about a nuclear strike initiated by a rogue military commander was based on the novel Red Alert, as well as elements of the novel Fail-Safe, which yielded an eponymous film the same year. Strangelove eclipses Fail-Safe on every level, however, since it draws its message from the insanity of the entire defence infrastructure, citing strategy, people, and machines as the reasons why the world is so perilous to begin with. This idea was becoming an increasingly popular position with many in the Western World, who saw the march toward Armageddon as a real possibility. Despite the bleakness of its premise, the film is buoyed by standout performances from George C. Scott, Sterling Hayden, and Peter Sellers in a triple role, including that of the titular doctor. Kubrick’s reputation as a sharp social critic was cemented by this, his funniest film.
Lawrence of Arabia (1962)
David Lean was a master at bringing big images to the screen, shooting in 70mm and composing sumptuous shots that seemed almost ethereal in their grandeur, like the scene in this film where, looking towards a ridge, T. E. Lawrence seems to observe a massive cargo ship sailing on the desert sands (actually the Suez Canal, out of view). Robert Bolt’s screenplay captures strong elements of the flamboyant character of Lawrence, the driving force behind the appeal of the film. Appealing too is the realization that one time period alone cannot encapsulate injustice, deception, and futility; they are eternal constants, a theme which struck a chord with audiences in the 60s. The film is packed with incredible performances (Peter O’Toole and Omar Sharif in particular), and defines visually the very reason why certain films can only be seen on the big screen.
Mary Poppins (1964)
Disney has never been known as a mirror of History or Society, yet occasionally, the right project arrives at the right time. This tale of an English nanny straightening out the lives of a London family is essentially the tale of progressive free thinking trumping stodgy antiquated conservatism, a theme which appealed to Society in the 1960s. For those unmoved by that theme, memorable musical numbers and slapstick comedy abounded. Mary Poppins had something for everyone and was met with almost universal acclaim. Pushing the technological envelope for animation (something for which Disney is known), the film combined live action and animation and left audiences astounded. Julie Andrews brings life to the narcissistic title character in a tour-de-force performance which rightfully earned her a Best Actress Oscar.
The Spy Who Came in from the Cold (1965)
Martin Ritt’s adaptation of John le Carré’s novel explores the Cold War and its effects on the social tapestry. In particular, it focuses on the anachronisms generated in the confusing new world of the 60s, such as spies of a bygone era unravelling into troubled and useless shadows of their former selves, serving masters with unclear agendas. This film, in title and execution, examines the changing of that “old guard”. Richard Burton’s portrayal of troubled spy Alec Leamas was profound enough to earn him an Academy Award nomination for Best Actor, embodying the soul of a man wanting to escape the Cold War as well as the “cold” of an emotionless existence. Often underrated, this film is a true masterpiece.
The Wild Bunch (1969)
The 60s are widely regarded as the point where the world finally lost its innocence, whether through social injustice, changing sexual attitudes, or the collapse of conservative values. Sam Peckinpah’s ode to the end of a golden age tells the tale of a group of mercenaries who find themselves unable to find a place as the Old West is eclipsed by new attitudes and technologies (such as the machine gun). At its core, the film is a blood-soaked buddy-picture that evokes the sentiment of unfailing male loyalty and self-sacrifice. Beautifully shot and featuring Peckinpah’s trademark slow-motion gunplay (inspiring filmmakers like John Woo and the Wachowski Brothers), the film also showcases his legendary mistrust of women, bordering on misogyny. In the end, the movie presents a middle finger to the modern world, as if issuing a challenge to be any better than what had come before.
The 1960s represented the end of the larval stage of Cinema, with a new film “world” emerging from the cocoon, which would inspire films in the years to come that were unlike any that had preceded them.
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