Best Film Editing Sequences

Best Film Editing
Sequences of All-Time:
From the Silents to the Present

Part 7

Best Film Editing Sequences of All-Time
Film Title Director & Editor (chronological order)	Film Description	Example
Don't Look Now (1973, UK/It.) d. Nicolas Roeg	In this intense mystery/drama about a vacationing married couple Laura (Julie Christie) and John Baxter (Donald Sutherland) in Venice after the tragic accidental drowning demise of their daughter in England, they had a 3-minute explicit, honest, and frank love scene in their hotel room in which they reconnected emotionally; the erotic sex scene was creatively edited - intercut and juxtaposed with their showering-bathing-dressing (in both the bathroom and bedroom) and last-minute preparations for going out to dinner afterwards; as they relaxed languorously together on the bed, she stated: "You've got toothpaste all over your mouth" to which he replied: "Eat if off" - she responded with a kiss, and a playful stroking of his naked backside as they both stretched out on a bed to make love; the scene was imitated in Steven Soderbergh's Out of Sight (1998) between George Clooney and Jennifer Lopez.
Jaws (1975) d. Steven Spielberg (Best Film Editing Winner: Verna Fields)	Spielberg's film was a huge summer box-office blockbuster in the mid-1970s, although the filming suffered technical problems (the film was dubbed "Flaws" by the crew), costly delays in the schedule on Martha's Vineyard, Massachusetts where the set was located (the on-location shoot escalated from 55 days to 159 days), and difficulties with malfunctioning, hydraulically-operated mechanical sharks (one was nicknamed 'Bruce' after the name of Spielberg's lawyer) after they were placed in the salt-water; much of the film was severely edited to avoid showing the shark, thereby actually enhancing the film's scare quotient.
Rocky (1976) d. John Avildsen (Best Film Editing Winner: Richard Halsey, Scott Conrad)	This phenomenally successful, uplifting, "sleeper" film was filmed in a record twenty-eight days with a paltry budget of about $1 million, and ultimately grossed well over $100 million; the action-packed, 'feel-good' crowd-pleasing story, shot mostly on location, told of the rise of a small-time, has-been, underdog Philadelphia boxer named Rocky Balboa (Sylvester Stallone) against insurmountable odds in a big-time bout, with the emotional support of a shy, hesitant, loving girlfriend Adrian (Talia Shire); in the most memorable, well-edited sequence of the film, a montage accompanied by the rousing song "Gonna Fly" (by Bill Conti), Rocky underwent further grueling training and workouts, in preparation for his Bicentennial fight against Apollo Creed; at dawn, he sprinted beneath an overhead train, made another run through the City of Brotherly Love's streets and marketplaces, punched a bag, did one-armed pushups, took punches to his mid-section, executed endless situps, pounded more slabs of beef, and sprinted along the city's waterway; he dashed (and flew) up the endless steps of the Philadelphia Museum of Art, taking many steps with each leap; he turned and faced the panorama of the city, with his hands triumphantly raised in the air; although his first run up the endless steps was overwhelmingly difficult, this run was effortless; the cover story "Italian Stallion" in TEMPO Magazine (red-bordered like Time Magazine) displayed his fighting stance.
All That Jazz (1979) d. Bob Fosse (Best Film Editing Winner: Alan Heim)	During the early morning ritual of hung-over director Bob Fosse (Roy Scheider) in this semi-autobiographical American musical film, the film opened with the self-destructive, work-aholic showman in quick shots in his bathroom: he pressed 'Play' on his cassette deck to start his Vivaldi classical music (Concerto for Strings and Continuo) he dropped two Alka-Seltzer tablets into glass of water, watching them fizz he reached for his Dexedrine pill prescription in yellow bottle he viewed the tape reading: "TOTAL AUTOMATIC SHUTOFF" he reached for the glass (top-view) he leaned backwards, sweating, against his mirror he took the cap off of the Dexedrine bottle he stood under the shower head to let the water hit his head he took Dexedrine pills he administered more Visine to his eye he leaned forward holding his aching head with his hands he adjusted shower nozzle he drank the Alka-Seltzer mixture he turned toward his mirror (next to a poster of dancing legs) he put more Visine in his eye and then blinked he stood in front of his mirror to deliver his trademark or signature line: "It's showtime, folks!"
Apocalypse Now (1979) d. Francis Ford Coppola (Best Film Editing Nominee: Richard Marks, Walter Murch, Gerald B. Greenberg, Lisa Fruchtman)	Producer/director Francis Ford Coppola's visually beautiful, ground-breaking masterpiece with surrealistic and symbolic sequences, detailed the confusion, violence, fear, and nightmarish madness of the Vietnam War; the film told about a US Army assassin's mission, both a mental and physical journey, to 'terminate' a dangerously-lawless warlord and former Colonel who had gone AWOL, had become a self-appointed god, and ruled a band of native warriors in the jungle; the lyrical, slow-moving opening sequence was a dazzling, edited combination of cinematography, music and hallucinatory images from the brutal and destructive war in Vietnam; the sounds of the war chopper blades (chuk-chuk-chuk) were heard and flaming sights of war were seen at the edge of a green-canopied jungle of palm trees as explosive fiery napalm was dropped; the mind-altering, mournful words of the soundtrack from The End: "This is the end..." (sung by burned out 60s rock star Jim Morrison of the Doors) played over nightmarish memories of the war; dust swirls and golden, billowing napalm flames filled the air; in 1968, debauched, moody, divorced Army Captain Benjamin Willard (Martin Sheen) of US Army Intelligence (505th Batallion, 173rd Airborne), was in a sleazy, dingy, sepia-toned Saigon hotel room, isolated, alienated, sweat-bathed and recovering from battle fatigue - at first, his inverted face was superimposed over the left half of the screen; there were panning shots of his dog tag, a pile of bills, his wallet, a woman's picture, an opened letter and envelope, cigarettes, a glass and Cordon Bleu bottle, and a gun lying next to his pillow; he was drinking and deliberately closed off from the outside world, haunted by his liquor-induced memories of the choppers, gunfire and the war; the sound of the helicopter blades was brought back by the whop-whop (or puck-puck) sound of an overhead ceiling fan; he realized his present state of inactivity, having been in Saigon a week - and feared that he was beginning to go a little crazy; in a flat-voiced voice-over, as he looked out the slats of his venetian-blinded window and laid on his bed, he revealed that he was desperately "waiting for a mission" and praying to get back into the N. Vietnamese wilderness: "Saigon. Shit! I'm still only in Saigon"; during a frenzied, spastic, half-nude karataka dance in the room, he self-destructively punched and broke the mirror (symbolically destroying his own image), bloodied his right fist and then wiped the bright red blood all over his face and nude body.