Barry Lyndon (1975)

Written and directed by Stanley Kubrick, this historical drama is a masterclass in how to make a great film. Everything about it is superb. 

Consisting of the varied and rambling adventures of the title character (portrayed by Ryan O’Neal), the story details the exploits of an 18th-century Anglo-Irish loner. He has to leave home following a duel with British Army captain John Quin (Leonard Rossiter), is robbed by highwaymen and then ends up in the British army – until he deserts and sets off on a whole sequence of other adventures.

There’s a quirky tone, enhanced by the narration of Michael Hordern. The film has an unusually sophisticated deadpan wit and intelligence. It's visually stunning, too. Kubrick treats you to a sequence of brilliantly composed shots. It’s like a rare liqueur – a luxurious treat. 

A masterpiece.

The Eiger Sanction (1975)

Appalling thriller directed by and starring Clint Eastwood, who ought to have known better. He stars as a hitman, who's also a lecturer, who’s also a climber, who's also a ladies’ man, who’s also an art collector…

There’s no tension or drama. But there’s plenty of sexism, homophobia and racism. There's also a clumsy sub-James Bond plot that doesn’t make sense, and a total lack of characterisation. Even the celebrated climbing sequences end up being dull. 

Clint is usually reliable, so you can only wonder how this ended up being such a turkey.

One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest (1975)

Masterpiece directed by Miloš Forman and adapted from Ken Kesey’s novel.

Jack Nicholson stars as McMurphy, who is committed to a mental hospital after faking insanity. There, he disrupts the routine maintained by the controlling Nurse Ratched (Louise Fletcher) and gives the other patients a sense of liberation through his freewheeling attitude and irreverent humour. 

It’s incredibly moving. As a human drama it is heartbreaking. It also tackles themes of power, identity and freedom, but in a subtle and sometimes darkly amusing way.

The in-mates, played by actors including Christopher Lloyd and Danny DeVito, are fully fleshed-out characters in their own right, adding real depth to the drama. Will Sampson has huge presence as the "Chief", who pretends to be deaf and dumb. Brad Dourif is superb playing the frail, stuttering Billy Bibbit, whose fears are exploited with devastating consequences. And Jack Nicholson is almost supernaturally potent in the lead role. You cannot take your eyes off him.

Funny Lady (1975)

Barbra Streisand is charming and endearing as Fanny Brice in this colourful sequel to Funny Girl (1968). I preferred it to that earlier film, as it seems looser and more playful. Brice is struggling to get over her marriage to Nick (Omar Sharif), but falls in love with impresario Billy Rose (James Caan).

There’s plenty of comedy and the script is sharp. The interplay between Streisand and Caan is especially watchable, even if you can never quite believe in their romance. Then again, that may be the point: these characters are rivals rather than soulmates.

The film slightly loses its way in the second half, becoming more of a conventional musical. The point at which Barbra sings from a small biplane is just ludicrous. Likewise, her attempt to sabotage a theatrical rehearsal in a swimming pool by clowning around in the water doesn’t really work as a scene or ring true with the story we’ve started to believe. Another oddity is Roddy McDowall cast as her gay friend Bobby. He hangs around and doesn’t say much in a way that suggests the film doesn’t need him at all.

But at her best, Streisand is hugely charismatic and when she gets a chance to really act – as she does in a few scenes – the results are impressive.

The Romantic Englishwoman (1975)

Lewis Fielding (Michael Caine) is a successful novelist. When his wife Elizabeth (Glenda Jackson) takes a trip to Baden-Baden to “find herself” and meets a thief and drug smuggler named Thomas (Helmut Berger), Lewis experiences intense jealousy. Then after Elizabeth returns to England, Thomas invites himself into the couple’s home and slowly but surely begins to interfere with various aspects of their lives. 

Directed by Joseph Losey and co-written by Tom Stoppard and Thomas Wiseman, it’s a brilliant, play-like drama focusing on the relationships between three characters. Thomas is brilliantly ambiguous. We learn almost nothing about him other than how he affects the family he moves in with. At times it felt like it could turn into a sort of horror story, but it was too subtle and nuanced for that. It’s partly about gender roles. It’s also about how the veneer of a wealthy middle-class existence can hide discontent and despair. 

Caine is as watchable as ever, while Jackson is superb as a mother and housewife who seems to have everything and yet feels hopelessly trapped in her world of luxury.

Jaws (1975)

I’ve seen this gem several times now and never tire of it. Steven Spielberg lost his way in later years, but with this film and Duel (1971) he could do no wrong.

There is no way that Jaws deserves its “12” certificate. In the first scene alone you see drug-taking and nudity. Then there’s a fair bit of “threat”, dismemberment, gore and all-out horror.

It’s full of great little details: Roy Scheider’s son copying his gestures at the meal table; that ultra-dramatic on-the-beach shot that zooms in and pans out at the same time; the iconic “shark approaching” music by John Williams; Quint’s war story; “You’re gonna need a bigger boat”; and the grisly fingers-down-the-blackboard moment at the town meeting.

It really kicks off when the three men go to sea to hunt the killer great white. There’s a macho issue going on between the guys, as well as a theme of class: tough-talking fisherman Robert Shaw is less than impressed with college-educated oceanographer Richard Dreyfuss. As the police chief, Roy Scheider somehow strikes a balance between them. Each man’s character is extremely well drawn. Also excellent is Murray Hamilton as the town mayor who prioritses Amity’s lucrative 4th July celebrations over beach safety.

The shark looks incredibly realistic. So convincingly did the film make these creatures look evil that a great disservice was done to the way they are perceived and their subsequent ecological protection.

My only other real criticism is the intrusively jaunty music used in some of the action sequences. In typical Spielberg style, on a couple of occasions he over-eggs the “adventure” aspect and makes the drama seem silly. But the damage is minimal here compared to in his later films.

Those points aside, it’s a masterful study in suspense.

Picnic at Hanging Rock (1975)

On Valentine’s Day, 1900, a bunch of girls from an Australian boarding school go on a day out to the ominous Hanging Rock. It soon becomes clear that there’s an essential wrongness about the place. Clocks stop at midday and, amid the heat, the girls enter a kind of disorientated enchantment. Seemingly bewitched and in a trance, three of them disappear (plus one of their teachers, played by Vivean Gray – Mrs. Mangel from Neighbours). I last saw this film at least 30 years ago but the utterly haunting image of the girls in their white dresses – walking, somehow mesmerised, towards a fate that is brilliantly never explained – has stayed with me ever since.

Like all of the world’s most terrifying stories, this adaptation of the Joan Lindsay novel understands that the less you explain the more scary it becomes. The film works on multiple levels. It’s a supernatural thriller but also a historical drama that takes on issues of class division, female repression and sexuality, and social control inside and outside of institutions.

The music by Gheorghe Zamfir (panpipe) and Marcel Cellier (organ) is especially effective and goes a long way towards building the atmosphere. Sophia Coppola's film The Virgin Suicides, which covers similar themes, had an oddly similar kind of soundtrack (by Air), so was presumably influenced by this film.

Peter Weir’s direction is stunning: it’s shot in a way that really enhances the sense of dazed, ethereal bewitchment.

A masterpiece.