1. The Godfather, Parts I & II (Francis Ford Coppola, USA, 1972 /1974)

2. Chinatown (Roman Polanski, USA, 1974)

3. Badlands (Terrence Malick, USA, 1973)

4. Taxi Driver (Martin Scorsese, USA, 1976)

5. One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (Milos Forman, USA, 1975)

6. Last Tango in Paris (Bernardo Bertolucci, France / Italy, 1972)

7. A Clockwork Orange (Stanley Kubrick, UK, 1971)

8. The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie (Luis Buñuel, Spain / Italy / France, 1972)

9. Annie Hall (Woody Allen, USA, 1977)

10. Zerkalo (Mirror) (Andrei Tarkovsky, USSR, 1974)

• Amarcord (Federico Fellini, France / Italy, 1974) Fellini's zest for life, and his obsession with pivotal memories of his childhood growing up in fascist Italy, are exquisitely captured in this dreamlike, sinuously engaging tale.
• Apocalypse Now (Francis Ford Coppola, USA, 1979) The hubris of Coppola, from the unrealistic demands made on his actors to his spiraling budget, carries over onto the screen in this malarial fever dream of a film. The madness of war has rarely been personified so artfully, or with such concentrated skill.
• Barry Lyndon (Stanley Kubrick, UK, 1975) Kubrick's adaptation of William Makepeace Thackeray's novel, concerning an Irish scoundrel/gentleman experiencing the highs and lows of 18th-century living, proves a fascinating, sumptuously mounted and flawlessly executed examination of mannered barbarism and the price one pays for displaying true emotion.
• The Conversation (Francis Ford Coppola, USA, 1974) Like some paranoid self-destruct sequence, Coppola's take on information control, and those who make a living compiling and selling what others want to know, is a smart, nervous and fascinating look at modern culture.
• Five Easy Pieces (Bob Rafelson, USA, 1970) There are no easy answers in this film about one man's quest for identity. From Rafelson's unobtrusive direction to Jack Nicholson's note-perfect  take on a man who has turned his back on his well-to-do family in an effort to find the true music of life, be it working in an oil field or venturing off to the great unknown of Alaska.
• The French Connection (William Friedkin, USA, 1971) Friedkin's greatest achievement in this poetically gritty crime drama, aside from the jazzy fluidity of its jaw-dropping action sequences, is the smart observation that detective work is mostly long stretches of monotony broken by explosive moments of intense drama.
• Hearts and Minds (Peter Davis, USA, 1974) A searing documentary examining the folly and tragedy of the United States' messy involvement in the Vietnam conflict. One of the most powerful anti-war films ever made.
• Jaws (Steven Spielberg, USA, 1975) Spielberg's first blockbuster, and the film that established summer as the time for studios to roll out the big-ticket entertainment fare, is a relentlessly jarring and gory reminder that nature will have its way, no matter how disruptive it is to mankind's carefully planned beach-going agenda.
• The Last Detail (Hal Ashby, USA, 1973) A study in freedom and the many joys it brings for one poor sap about to lose his works as well as it does because there is no last minute getaway. By film's end those outside prison feel just as incarcerated as the men behind bars.
• The Last Picture Show (Peter Bogdanovich, USA, 1971) Bogdanovich's adaptation of Larry McMurtry's novel concerning the isolation and quiet desperation of the people living in a small, dying Texas town. The film's greatest achievement is that it never once passes judgment on its characters or their often-foolhardy decisions.
• The Last Waltz (Martin Scorsese, USA, 1978) The Band's final performance at Bill Graham's famed Winterland Arena in San Francisco stands as not only the best rock concert movie ever made, but also one of the most passionately filmed efforts Scorsese ever framed. The music is top notch, aided in no small part by the talented friends who stop by to perform with the group. Play this movie loud!
• The Life of Brian (Terry Jones, UK, 1979) The Monty Python troupe's peak film, a wicked satire on religious zealotry and the bureaucracy that would callously choose to oppress it. None are spared in this stinging assault on hypocrisy and the senseless bloodshed wrought by sheer ignorance.
• M*A*S*H (Robert Altman, USA, 1970) Altman's brilliantly freewheeling look at American doctors during the Korean War manages to comment on the Vietnam conflict without turning into a direct assault. This hilariously chaotic film, more than any other, set the tone for acerbic, critical cinema in America during the 1970s.
• Manhattan (Woody Allen, USA, 1979) Allen's beautifully photographed (courtesy of the great Gordon Willis) love letter to Manhattan, and insightful examination of the messiness of sexual politics stands as one of his least sardonic, most emotionally committed works.
• Nashville (Robert Altman, USA, 1975) Despite the intriguing but too-obvious celebrity assassination aspect, the whole of Nashville offers a masterful, quintessentially American mosaic. One of Altman's best films.
• Patton (Franklin J. Schaffner, USA, 1970) A towering, iconic performance by George C. Scott is the primary reason to see this big-budgeted ode to the overweening zeal and impassioned force one man can bring to the theater of war.
• Solaris (Andrei Tarkovsky, USSR, 1972) Tarkovsky's patiently-crafted, deeply meditative take on the acclaimed story by Stanislaw Lem tackles issues of science, faith and what it means to be human, against the backdrop of a mysterious, possibly sentient planet.
• The Sorrow and the Pity (Marcel Ophüls, Switzerland / France / West Germany, 1971) Ophüls' collection of first-hand testimonials and arresting period footage taken during the Nazi occupation of France during World War II stands as one of the greatest documentaries ever made. At four-and-a-half hours, and dealing with intensely painful subject matter, it's not an easy film to watch, but that's precisely the point. Ophüls raised a harsh mirror to his country's recent past, and it provided a reflection many Frenchmen were not yet willing to gaze upon.
• A Woman Under the Influence (John Cassavetes, USA, 1974) This moody examination of a blue collar housewife rebelling against stifling conditions stands as one of the great, fearless riffs on the perils and rewards of matrimony. Gena Rowlands and Peter Falk embody their respective roles with an almost painful sincerity that elevates the film far above mere domestic drama fare.
• Young Frankenstein (Mel Brooks, USA, 1974) Brooks' finest hour, a hilarious tribute to Universal's horror films of the 1930s, skewers yet never disrespects the oft-hokey conventions of the genre. Gene Wilder gives his best performance in what stands as one of the funniest comedies ever made.