Art, whether it is film, music, literature, painting, comics, or other creative expressions, often hides its surprises and sometimes breeds confusion. Yet there is a gamesmanship we all take seriously. In cinema, a biennial list of the 100 greatest films is compiled every decade by a respected British institution. The canon is established by a balance of critics and practitioners who vote from different perspectives, shaping a shared, and sometimes contested, view of cinematic greatness.
The poll, begun in the early postwar era, has its origins in a 1952 survey that honored the classic neorealist milestone The Bicycle Thief by Vittorio De Sica as an initial benchmark. Over time, the second ballot brought Orson Welles’s Citizen Kane into the conversation, where it remained a centerpiece in many discussions for decades. Other titles that repeatedly appeared across rounds included The Rules of the Game by Jean Renoir and Tokyo Story by Yasujiro Ozu. In 2012, Vertigo by Alfred Hitchcock displaced Welles’s landmark debut, though it did not erase its enduring influence. The Hitchcockian narrative developed gradually, climbing through the rankings from the later years to claim the top spot in recent debates, while other films shared the spotlight in different years. The most recent poll drew 846 respondents, marking a shift in how voices are distributed across continents and professions.
Twice as many voters as before
In the most recent edition, the voting pool nearly doubled to about 1,600 critics, scholars, curators, and programmers. The result kept the long dominance of Vertigo and Citizen Kane in flux, with Vertigo dropping to second place and Citizen Kane sinking to third. The list continues to reflect the same broad influence, while new titles from Asia entered the upper ranks. A notable example is the 21st century’s love story by Wong Kar-wai, which tied for a high placement, while David Lynch’s Mulholland Drive secured a prominent position further down the line. The top ten features standouts from different eras and styles, including Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey, Claire Denis’s Beau Travail, Dziga Vertov’s The Man with a Movie Camera, and the joyful exuberance of Singing in the Rain by Gene Kelly and Stanley Donen. The poll presents a colorful blend of classical, modern, experimental, and genre cinema, weaving together the legacies of Hitchcock, Welles, and Ozu with contemporary voices.
The shift toward broader global participation has sparked lively debate about the criteria used to measure cinematic greatness. The new composition invites viewers to reevaluate the canon through fresh social lenses and historical perspectives, challenging old assumptions about what belongs in the top ranks. A recent twist places Jeanne Dielman, 23, quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles by Chantal Akerman at the top, a title that had rarely appeared near the very top in earlier years. The current champion may reflect broader ideas about time, labor, and female authorship, rather than simply cinematic technique. While Kubrick’s space epic continues to be celebrated, the rise of Akerman’s film signals a notable rebalancing of influence in the collective memory of world cinema.
Paul Schrader, known for Taxi Driver and Mishima, is among the voters and adds a distinctive perspective. His personal top ten includes Pickpocket by Robert Bresson, Tokyo Tales, and a few explorations of classic directors such as Bergman, Renoir, and Bertolucci. He has also commented on how Akerman’s Jeanne Dielman shifts the perceived credibility of the poll when it suddenly tops the list. The discussion echoes ideas from the broader canon discourse, where questions of who counts and who votes can shape historical memory as much as the films themselves. His reflections underscore a broader change in the voting community and the point system, signaling a movement toward a more inclusive set of voices without losing sight of cinema’s historical roots. Akerman’s film is widely regarded as a landmark, celebrated for its radical rethinking of everyday duration and labor, and it now prompts ongoing conversations about how wakeful cinema should be remembered in the future.
No word from Buñuel or Herzog
The debate continues over whether Singin’ in the Rain, a grand musical about the transition from silent to sound film, should sit above Murnau’s almost universally acclaimed sunrise classic. There is also talk about Barry Jenkins’s Moonlight, placed somewhere between beloved classics such as La Dolce Vita and Casablanca, and whether current perspectives on European auteur cinema and Hollywood have evolved enough to include newer voices like Jordan Peele’s Let Me Out, representing the latest in American cinema. The list remains a conversation about taste, context, and changing cultural priorities rather than a fixed ledger.
Both Akerman and Denis are acknowledged not only as strong directors but as influential figures alongside Agnès Varda, whose Cléo from 5 to 7 and The Collector’s films continue to provoke discussion. Avant-garde talents such as Maya Deren, Vera Chytilová, and Céline Sciamma, as well as Barbara Loden, Jane Campion, and Akerman again, show how the canon now includes a wider spectrum of voices. The discussion naturally invites debate about where pioneers like Alice Guy, Ida Lupino, Dorothy Arzner, Sofia Coppola, Naomi Kawase, and Kathryn Bigelow fit into the modern map.
No news from some historic figures in European and American cinema, including Buñuel, Cassavetes, Stroheim, von Sternberg, Lubitsch, Renoir, Hawks, Ray, Pasolini, Wenders, Herzog, Fincher, Jarmusch, Tarantino, Cronenberg, the Coen brothers, Bong Joon-ho, and Michael Haneke. The absence of a broader Latin American presence or more diverse animation signifies the list remains a snapshot of the moment rather than a definitive record of global cinema. Still, it is a helpful prompt to explore how the international film community envisions the art form across borders and generations. The exercise remains a plainly human activity: to assemble a map of favored works and to consider what they say about culture, memory, and time. This is the essence of the Sight and Sound poll and its enduring fascination across audiences and critics alike.