David Heslop

Ten: Aston Martin DB5 (Goldfinger, 1964)

I think most of these cars have earned a place by being somehow extraordinary, rather than just looking nice; but the DB5 is still a gorgeous example of sixties style. Of course, beyond that, it’s one of the most iconic cars of all time, and its place in the Bond pantheon is assured. Full of all sorts of gimmicks and gadgets, it’s a Swiss Army Knife on wheels. And very pretty, too.

Nine: Mr. Bean’s Mini Cooper (Mr. Bean, 1992)

Just beating out the Minis from The Italian Job due to its singular status, Bean’s Mini represents a kind of everyday, genteel British humbleness. It’s charming and funny and a tiny bit silly, but it’s also ingenious. The many crazy ways in which Bean uses his Mini – usually to the detriment of a Reliant Robin – reinforces the man’s position as pathetic-seeming agent of chaos. And it’s funny coz it’s got a padlock on the door.

Eight: Mario’s Kart (Super Mario Kart, 1992)

Arguably the most iconic videogame vehicle, the various Karts raced by Mario and chums are almost as famous as the betachioed plumber’s dungarees and hat. Seemingly an ordinary go-kart with a red trim, its humble appearance allows for the colourful rider to be accentuated, visible even as a chunk 16-bit sprite, whilst also leaving room for stylistic flourishes and neat little tricks of design. Later games brought multiple types of car, bike, or glider, but it’s the simple kart that remains the distinctive visual motif of the series.

Seven: Turtle Van (Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, 1987)

What I like about the Turtle Van (aka the Party Wagon) is that it’s really just a big, boxy van that can accommodate four turtles, their enormous shells, and their boiler suit-wearing newsreader pal. But it has enough cool touches, such as its shell-esque roof and a cool door that doubles as a ramp/gun emplacement, to feel very much on-brand and a unique vehicle in its own right. Plus it has a ramshackle charm, far away from a sleek Batmobile or even a relatively professional-looking homemade job like Ecto-1.

Six: Pursuit Special (Mad Max, 1979)

I’ll be honest and say that my favourite iteration of Max Rockatansky’s souped-up V8 Interceptor is the far more weathered and patched-up version seen in Mad Max 2 and Fury Road, complete with what appears to be huge jet engines sticking out the back. But the car itself is a cool seventies number to begin with, and once you factor in the homebrew, post-apocalyptic chic of the franchise, you’ve got a seriously sexy sci-fi bit of kit.

Five: Mystery Machine (Scooby-Doo, Where Are You!, 1969)

A bit like the Turtle Van, this is, well, a van – or more specifically a VW camper. Although its somewhat muted green colour scheme isn’t the height of psychedelia, it still screams sixties: the perfect vehicle for four stoner sleuths and their odd dog. It’s a type of car that really has a lot to say about time, place, and people; we understand Mystery Inc more because of their vehicle, and the fact it’s not all reds and oranges speaks to the spooky core of the show too.

Four: Bluesmobile (The Blues Brothers, 1980)

The perfect car if you’re on a mission from God; an old cop car. It’s got a cop motor, cop tyres, cop suspension, cop shocks, and a broken cigarette lighter. It can pretty much outrun anything, from rednecks to Nazis to the Actual Army. And it’s wonderfully, delightfully seventies, the way it fishtails out when careening around corners. Whatdaya say?

Three: Doc Brown’s DeLorean (Back to the Future, 1985)

Now we’re getting to the cars that really offer something extra, and what could be more extra than travelling through time? And if that’s not enough – if it’s not enough that this is a time machine – it can also fly with its cool little upside-down wheel thingies. The DeLorean itself is a wonderfully eighties slice of angular design, and the additions – huge engine thing, wires all over the shop, Mr Fusion – only adds to its charm.

Two: ECTO-1 (Ghostbusters, 1984)

First up you have the rather pretty Cadillac Miller-Meteor ambulance as its base, with its sleek curves and beautiful fin-things at the rear; but then it’s transformed into a paranormal emergency service vehicle. I’ve never known what all the gubbins on top of Ecto-1 are supposed to be, but I love them: various sensors and detectors and whatnot. It has the ramshackle appeal of other cars on this list, but it’s sleeker and more polished (literally). It really stands out, it has a silhouette all its own, and it is just incredibly cool. Everybody can relax they found the car.

One: Batmobile (Batman: The Animated Series, 1992)

I’ve picked the Animated Series version because aesthetically it’s my favourite, with its art deco stylings and elongated bonnet; but really it could have been so many Batmobiles. How could this car not be number one? It’s Batman’s car. It’s incredibly cool to look at, one of the sexiest cars ever designed, it’s souped-up beyond all recognition, and it’s got more gadgets than a James Bond boxset. Plus, I love the fact that it doesn’t really make much sense for Batman to have a car: he’s a high-tech ninja in an urban environment, so planes, gliders, auto-gyros, etc, would all be far better ways for him to get around a bustling city at night. But it’s just so damn sweet to see a cross between a 1950s hot rod and a Panzer tank come hurtling down Main Street before unleashing a martial artist in a Dracula costume to punch some turkeys in their turkey necks. “Iconic” doesn’t do it justice.

Ten: The Max Rebo Band (Return of the Jedi, 1983)

Yes, the blue elephant-looking dude who plays in Jabba’s Palace. But you can’t deny his band rocks: he’s a fat alien version of Jools Holland, tickling those space-ivories, while his band toot their horns. And he has to be cool because his boss is a giant space slug. And let’s not forget that the music he plays is called jizz. He is, canonically, a jizz-wailer. Best song: Lapti Nek

Nine: 4*Town (Turning Red, 2022)

Such a pitch-perfect parody of early-noughties boy bands it’s unreal, even after you discover their songs were written (IRL) by Billie Eilish and Fineas. Everything about them just feels genuine, from their non-threatening appearance to their clothes, their names, and above all the songs, which absolutely could be genuine pop hits. Best song: Nobody Like U

Eight: Wyld Stallyns (Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure, 1989)

Only this low because we get merely a glimmer of how great they’re meant to be, but no one can deny the camaraderie between Bill S. Preston and Ted “Theodore” Logan. Whatever the universe throws at them – exams, strict parents, actually being dead – their bond and their love of music sees them through. And they play a mean air guitar. Let’s not forget, too, that at one point their lineup consisted of two medieval princesses, an alien gestalt, and Death. All together now: STATION! Best song: God Gave Rock & Roll to You

Seven: Powerline (A Goofy Movie, 1995)

Another parody that is just utterly perfect, Powerline is one part Michael Jackson (back when, er, that was seen as a good thing) to five parts Prince. His shows are explosive, pyrotechnical affairs, and his songs are intense electro-pop expressions of love. He is, I’m gonna be honest here, kinda sexy for a cartoon character, but he feels both supremely cool and utterly genuine. And y’know what? He looks like he’s a nice guy, too. Best song: Eye to Eye

Six: Jessica Rabbit (Who Framed Roger Rabbit, 1988)

Jessica isn’t bad, she’s just drawn that way: a towering, booby femme fatale in a sparkly cocktail dress, she carries the gravitas and, frankly, raw sex appeal that comes with Kathleen Turner’s distinctive husky voice. But beyond that, she’s a consummate professional and absolutely first-rate singer. Her crooning number about awful men is suitably sultry but could have been sung by Monroe, although Marilyn doesn’t have Jessica’s baritone. And she bakes a mean carrot cake. Best song: Why Don’t You Do Right

Five: Sex Bob-Omb (Scott Pilgrim vs. the World, 2010)

What I like about Sex Bob-Omb (apart from their chucklesome Mario-aping name) is how they appear to be a bunch of losers with delusions of grandeur, until you hear them play. Perhaps one of the biggest gags in Scott Pilgrim is that Sex Bob-Omb are legitimately great, and their songs are a proper early-noughties indie bop. Their MVP, clearly, is drummer Kim Pine (Alison Pill), whose caustic, deadpan demeanour carries over into an arresting stage presence. Best song: We Are Sex Bob-Omb

Four: Preacher Boy (Sinners, 2025)

Literally the son of a preacher man, Sammie Moore (Miles Caton) is a musical prodigy: a very young man innately gifted with musical genius. The film does an extraordinarily good job of showing how his music – but also, really, all music – is capable of uniting people, with its power and influence stretching back and forth across time. Despite the fierce disapproval of his father – and the fact that he’s attacked by vampires – he becomes a success across the decades. And too right; he’s great! Best song: I Lied to You

Three: Connor4Real (Popstar: Never Stop Never Stopping, 2016)

I think, amazingly, this is the first proper parody singer we’ve had on the list – but what a corker. Connor (Andy Samberg) might not be the mirror image of a real boy band-turned-solo artist, the way 4*Town are virtually indistinguishable from a real band, but he’s certainly funnier than everyone so far. From his wild self-belief to his towering ego to his songs that are both grossly inappropriate and utterly hilarious, he’s a superstar. Best song: Finest Girl

Two: The Blues Brothers (The Blues Brothers, 1980)

Despite starting life on SNL and starring in their own comedy vehicle, the actual band The Blues Brothers play it fairly straight: sincere covers of blues and soul hits. And they’re good! Legitimately good! The pair have phenomenal stage presence, with Elwood’s laid-back positivity and Jake’s livewire energy, and they’re both pretty groovy dancers. And they have range – see their Rawhide cover! And if all that wasn’t enough they’re on a mission from God. Best song: Everybody Needs Somebody to Love

One: Spinal Tap (This is Spinal Tap, 1984)

Ten: Christopher McQuarrie

McQ is adept at structure. He’s done some excellent scripts that manage to adhere to formula whilst still delivering great dialogue and truly epic twists – I mean, he wrote The Usual Suspects – but I think he’s more impressive for his blockbuster work. His innate ability to understand when there has to be exposition, or an action scene, or why a character needs to be in a particular place at a particular time, might just be second to none. The fact that the actual scripts of his Mission: Impossible movies are written around the needs of the structure makes it even more impressive an achievement.

Nine: Charlie Kaufman

I’m a sucker for work that deconstructs narrative to some degree (my favourite comic writer is Grant Morrison) and the best of Kaufman’s work is very deconstruction-y. Adaptation is not just an adaptation (of The Orchid Thief) but also a movie about adaptation, and writing itself, and Hollywood, and Charlie Kaufman. It’s also – and this is another of Kaufman’s traits that I love – utterly bonkers. Yet despite the weirdness of his work, it’s also deeply emotional and profoundly moving; it’s this mix of structural cleverness, surrealism, and heart that I love.

Eight: Kevin Smith

When I was in my early teens there were two writers who I felt really spoke to me and became huge influences (the other one will be along in a minute); filmmakers who I wished I could emulate. Smith’s work is incredibly funny; he’s a gifted comedian (as anyone’s who’s watched his live appearances will attest) and his characters drop multiple gags with a distinctive patter that’s oh-so-Smith. This unique voice extends to his whole fictional worldview; his movies generally exist in their own weird universe of weed and filth. But beyond all this he’s also full of heart, a massive softy despite the vulgar dialogue and dick jokes: a romantic fool with a potty mouth.

Seven: Nora Ephron

I’m kinda mortified there’s only one woman on this list (Diablo Cody was just bubbling under, honest!). Anyway, Ephron wrote on of the greatest scripts of all time in When Harry Met Sally, but beyond that she always had an innate ability to marry some genius, hilarious wordplay with emotional honesty and gave the romcom a refreshingly female touch. She had an old-school mentality which gave a lot of her scripts the aura of a Classic Hollywood romcom.  

Six: Billy Wilder

I said this list had a modern tint to it, but that doesn’t mean I’m overlooking Ye Olde Movies. I love the rat-a-tat-tat dialogue in films as diverse as Casablanca, White Christmas, or Bringing Up Baby. Wilder was a megastar, an absolute icon, with a career stretching decades. He was not only incredibly funny but his films had bite to them: unafraid to push the envelope in terms of sex and death and relationships, despite often being relatively light and breezy comedies. I’m thinking specifically of The Apartment (a romcom about suicide!) or Some Like It Hot, both of which are in contention for “greatest last line of all time”.

Five: Mel Brooks

I talk a lot about comedy here, and I do appreciate a really well-crafted witticism. Brooks is different: he’s a gag machine, firing out joke after joke, crafting elaborate situations of extreme silliness. If you look at something like The Producers, not only do we get two iconic leads, but the whole plot of the film is hilarious, and then you get incredibly funny scenes, and then little moments, and then lines – it’s a work of absolute genius. Even his “lesser” films still have supreme gags, and the fact that he’s still working at a hundred years old is remarkable.

Four: Shane Black

For a particular kind of film, Black is the best there is. He became adept at crafting slick Hollywood action: propulsive, exciting, but still funny. Obviously Lethal Weapon is the calling card here: yeah, it’s the kind of stylish buddy-action movie that you’d see in the eighties, but it had some degree of heft to it, and it was really funny with memorable characters. And if Black can be accused of sticking to a formula, at least it’s one that few other people are attempting nowadays, and one he’s just amazingly skilled at, from The Last Boy Scout to Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (a scabrous and hilarious slice of neo-noir) to large stretches of Iron Man 3. Just don’t mention The Predator.

Three: The Coen Brothers

I think the Coens are so renowned and revered as directors that we can overlook how great their scripts are. They’re stylish and often a touch surreal, with unusual dialogue and a world that feels uniquely Coen. Characters have odd speech patterns and seemingly inconsequential lines can become hilarious (Frances McDormand saying “oh yeah?”; Holly Hunter saying “bona fide”). Add to that plots that often verge on the labyrinthine, with criminal plans that unspool in often ridiculous ways – or somethings just nefarious, as in No Country for Old Men.

Two: Quentin Tarantino

There was definitely a time when old Quent would have been my favourite writer; a profound influence on Teenage David. And the thing is, you absolutely cannot take away his skill with a script: Reservoir Dogs is taught and lean, Pulp Fiction a non-linear yet totally interconnected masterpiece of structure. His dialogue is sublime: he’s able to make the mundane feel like poetry. He’s very funny. And he creates some wonderful characters. If, in later years, he perhaps as edged towards the self-indulgent, he’s still capable of drawing out scenes of power or humour, such as the tense opening of Inglourious Basterds or DiCaprio’s breakdown in Hollywood.

One: Aaron Sorkin

Is it a bit of a cheat that my favourite film writer is arguably most famous for a TV programme? And certainly that’s his best work. But if The West Wing is all of Sorkin’s strengths (and, naturally, his weaknesses) writ large, these facets are on display in microcosm throughout his career. For one thing, he’s the best dialogue guy around: not only are some of his speeches works of rhetorical art, but just the rhythm and tone he elicits is tremendous. He’s capable of making complex stuff sound gorgeous, whether it’s politics in The American President or law in A Few Good Men or operating systems in Steve Jobs. He has a social conscience, too, which shines through, even if it is perhaps rooted in a soft-liberal post-war patriarchal niceness that dates some of his work; but at least it’s there, a belief in a better world where we can all get along. But beyond all this is his heart: his characters feel truly human despite speaking in fast, grand, eloquent ways that would baffle your average bloke, and quite often he will move us to tears with the gentleness of his words. And he’s funny. He’s really, really funny. Freak.

Ten: Primadonna (2012)

A lot of Marina’s songs seem to be about bad men or the troubles placed on women by the patriarchy/capitalism/delete as appropriate, but this takes aim at a prissy, demanding woman. It’s funny and entertaining and Marina herself has a terrific, multifaceted voice.

Nine: Hermit the Frog (2010)

Bristling with inner fury, this story of a rather put-upon and underappreciated woman coming into her own in the face of an overbearing man would be relatively ordinary if it wasn’t for Marina’s unique vocals.

Eight: Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land (2021)

I’m more familiar with this one as my daughter used to play this album a lot in the car. Anyway: I really like thissun. It’s about individuality contrasted with homogeny and the desire to be your own person, but the composition and the electric beat, plus Marina’s fantastic and multi-faceted vocals, really lift it.

Seven: Mowgli’s Road (2010)

Bit of an odd one this, which I think is about pursuing artistic integrity in the fact of commercial success? Choosing the right fork in the road, contrasted with silver spoons? I’m not really sure where Rudyard Kipling comes into it. But the video is funky.

Six: Girls (2010)

A great, propulsive, poppy tune with excellently satirical feminist lyrics, reminiscent of Taylor Swift’s The Man (my kids should really bond over their mutual appreciation of smart feminist female singer-songwriters). But there’s a nice sense of anger here brimming below the surface.

Five: Oh No! (2010)

A kind of anti-capitalist screed disguised as an incredibly danceable bop. There’s a lovely examination of imposter syndrome (“I feel like I’m the worst so I always act like I’m the best”) beneath its poppy exterior. I’d have put this higher, myself.

Four: Are You Satisfied? (2010)

Really cool Europoppy tune that alternates between fast-paced verses and a more traditionally trilling kinda chorus. Another of her songs that explores the gap between image and reality.

Three: Shampain (2010)

A groovy hungover song with a nice, boppy beat and upbeat rhythm. The contrast between the poetic language and its more mundane, depressive meaning is striking.

Two: The Family Jewels (2010)

I find Marina often has a rather delightful, syncopated warble (look, this isn’t the NME, don’t come here for terminology), and it’s deployed here to winning effect. Although I am a little concerned that a song about familial dysfunction ranked so highly.

One: I Am Not a Robot (2010)

Nice bit of falsetto giving way to a rousing chorus. Not as heavy or angry as some of her other stuff, but it’s got a lovely positive message.

I’m just gonna chime in at the end and say my favourite song of hers is still probably Venus Fly Trap, but this was fun to listen to.

Ten: Unicron (The Transformers: The Movie, 1984)

Yes of course we’re starting with Transformers, this is my list. And to be fair, The Movie features several robo-taches, from naughty henchman Scourge to weirdo Junkion Wreck-Gar. But how can you not love an evil robot the size of an actual planet who also inexplicably has a metal moustache? I want to stress this again: Unicron is a robot the size of a planet who for some reason also has a moustache. This is the best thing ever and you all know it.

Nine: Freddie Mercury (Live Aid, 1985)

Freddie often went with or without his tacheroonie, but to me he’s iconic when he’s wearing it, and he reached his apotheosis at Live Aid. There were connotations here, obviously; whether it was his dress or demeanour, or maybe just the cut of his whiskers above pursed lips, but this is probably the quintessential example of “Gay Man Tache”.

Eight: Duncan (He-Man and the Masters of the Universe, 1983)

Yeah, another cartoon character; sue me, I was a kid in the eighties. Anyway, Duncan – aka “Man at Arms” – was basically the elder, paternal figure in He-Man (I mean, he’s literally Teela’s dad). This gave his tache a distinct dad-vibe. But what a tache: thick, furry, and above all, ginger. True strength comes from rocking an enormous ginger moustache, especially when you’re fighting a bloke with three eyes and a dude with a metal jaw.

Seven: Ernie Hudson (Ghostbusters, 1984)

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve appreciated Winstone Zeddemore more and more. He’s the everyman Ghostbuster, and he’s brilliantly, empathetically played by Hudson, earthing the team of livewires and weirdoes. And his tache – short, neat, full without being bushy – is a core part of his character. It connotes that earthiness, as well as robustness; Winston was originally written as a military veteran, and there’s a strength of purpose (and of spine) that still carries through. Plus he’s seen shit that’d turn you white.

Six: Max Ray (Centurions, 1986)

Here we get to one of those moustachioed cartoon leading men I was on about: big, broad, side-partinged blokes with fairly neat but full taches. In this sense, Max is broadly very similar in appearance to Leoric from Visionaries; but his gimmick is much cooler when you play with toy (you stick bits in him all over to give him a weird cyborg-y body!). Also, on reflection, they all owe a bit of a debt to Tony Stark’s comic book design at the time. And, of course, a certain Hawaii-based P.I. who’ll probably pop up at some point.

Five: Bernard Hill (Boys from the Blackstuff, 1982)

Can a moustache convey sadness? Because Hill’s offering here is as hangdog as the character who sports in, the beleaguered Yosser Hughes. Big and bushy but perennially drooping and somewhat unkempt, it’s the facial hair equivalent of Droopy the dog’s pendulous jowls. I’ve already touched on how facial hair is a watermark of manliness, and the juxtaposition of the hirsute, strong-looking Hill and his increasingly tragic, pathetic life is especially stark.

Four: Wilford Brimley (Cocoon, 1985)

Now this is a moustache. Look at it! It’s huge! It’s bushy! He looks like a Disney character! I bet he could shake it out like a wet dog every time he drinks a beer! It’s fantastic! When I’m old, I want a moustache like this. Except of course Brimley was only 49 when he played a supposedly over-the-hill grandpa given a magical new lease of life in Cocoon. So I’ve got five years to perfect a sumptuous soup-strainer like this. I feel like finding an alien pod would be more realistic.  

Three: Eddie Murphy (Beverly Hills Cop, 1984)

Murphy’s facial fuzz is so iconic that it’s really hard to imagine him without it. Even Mushu had a tach in Mulan, and he was a dragon! But really, can you picture him without his tache? The only thing I can think of is Norbert, and are we sure that wasn’t makeup? Anyway: he’s got a cool tache that manages to be both thick and thin at the same time, tapering delightfully at the edges. It feels very eighties, but it’s also just what Eddie looks like; almost a visual trademark. Better than a banana in the exhaust.

Two: Tom Selleck (Magnum P.I., 1980)

Who else could it be? If one tache defined the decade, it was Thomas Magnum’s. Selleck’s lip garden is as thick as you’d like, but it’s not wild and unruly; nor is it supremely coiffed. Rather, it is the perfect amalgamation of suave and rugged; much like Selleck himself. It’s a look exacerbated by the fact he’s often in shorts or sometimes tipless, showing off just how hairy he is, like Beorn halfway through going Full Bear. Selleck, of course, wielded his tache in various other films of the decade, such as Three Men and a Baby, so as well as just looking all kinds of cool it really was a great visual motif.

One: My Dad

Ten: Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (1989)

I have an enormous soft spot for this film; in a lot of ways it’s probably my favourite Indy, even though I don’t think it’s as pure or effective as Raiders. It’s all in the interplay and chemistry between Harrison Ford and Sean Connery: a real odd couple relationship full of wonderful character grace notes and hilarious lines. “I’m as human as the next man”; “I was the next man” is just a work of genius. It’s got some absolutely terrific action sequences, some genuinely tense moments, and the Marcus Brody “he’s got the Grail already” bit. It’s also got a perfect ending, which they’d never spoil by making two more (see also: Toy Story 3).

Nine: Lincoln (2012)

I’m a sucker for well-written and well-acted drama in which very smart people just say very smart things smartly to one another. This film feels like a period version of The West Wing, and that’s definitely a good thing. Daniel Day-Lewis gives an absolute belter of a performance as the big man, dissolving into the role, dispensing gentle anecdotes but possessing a core of steel. And it’s beautiful: Janusz Kamiński's photography is extraordinary, feeling natural at all times but still managing that Spielbergian grandeur. A political masterpiece.

Eight: West Side Story (2021)

A technical tour-de-force as Spielberg pulls out all the stops to create a musical of supreme craftsmanship. I’ve talked about the dance sequence before, but the way Spielberg stitches together two separate oners, follows the groups of kids naturalistically, and then switches up to a stylised look when Tony and Maria sing under the bleachers, is incredible. It goes on: the shadows on the ground as the gangs line up, the framing of the ironwork during the balcony scene, the bravura comic choreography of “Gee Officer Krupke” – this film is stunning, beautiful to look at. He took an already-existing classic and made another classic.

Seven: The Fabelmans (2022)

A portrait of the artist as a young man, this fictionalised autobiography isn’t just an account of Spielberg’s life growing up as a wannabe filmmaker; it’s also about how movies can shape a psyche and heal a soul, but also a darker warning of the burning, yearning heart of an artist. There are so many beautiful grace notes and authentic touches – Sam’s mother dancing round a campfire, Sam’s ingenuity when making his micro-masterpieces, “Jesus is sexy” – but the key scene is probably the stark, haunting speech delivered by Sam’s uncle about the cost of creativity. And it has maybe the greatest final shot in Spielberg’s oeuvre. It’s interesting.

Six: Jurassic Park (1993)

If I’d done this list thirty years ago this film would have been top and it wouldn’t have been close. Spielberg once again empties his bag of tricks to make a film that is one part gonzo action blockbuster and one part white-knuckle thriller as intense as to be borderline horror. He really does look putting the willies up audiences. The revolutionary use of CGI wowed at the time, but the fact that the first time they were attempting to create organic creatures Spielberg still refused to keep it simple, with reflective surfaces an moving cameras, grounds the effects and tells a gripping story. And it’s just fun, all the way through, with a great cast and another of John Williams’ all-timer scores.

Five: Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981)

Speaking as we were of all-timer scores, I defy anybody to not immediately have the Raiders march playing in their head right now. Rallying after the disappointing 1941, Spielberg – with his goody buddy George – raided (he he) their memories for all the tropes of derring-do adventure serials and created a modern icon in the laconic cool of Harrison Ford’s Indy. We might remember the stunning stuntwork and action choreography (the trucks! The jet! The boulder!), but the character endures because of Ford’s hangdog performance, and his beautiful chemistry with Karen Allen’s Marion.

Four: Schindler’s List (1993)

Spielberg spent much of the eighties trying to tackle more mature themes alongside his family-friendly blockbusters, and he fought hard to adapt the story of Oskar Schindler (famously trading projects with Martin Scorsese, who had the rights to the book). The resultant film is a devastating masterpiece, sumptuously shot in black and white by Kaminski, unflinchingly displaying the horrors of the Holocaust, but – typically Spielbergian – retaining throughout the hope of humanity. Schindler is a flawed man but even he has a thread of heroism running through him, and, as I’ve already hinted at, the final scene is heartbreaking. Deserved all its Oscars.

Three: E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial (1982)

What’s E.T. short for? This is arguably Spielberg’s first attempt at an autobiography, E.T. himself a fantastical otherworldly hook on which to hang the story of a fractured family. We’re instantly drawn to the intense emotional bond between Elliot and E.T., and the performances of the young cast are exemplary. But returning to it as an adult, the sadness of their mum – a wonderful Dee Wallace – is more evident, a woman holding her family together but clearly with a broken heart and unable to suffer more loss. Despite the sentimentality and kid-focused action there is a maturity and intelligence shot through the whole film. He’s got little legs.

Two: Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977)

Woah, controversy alert: for decades I’d have told you my favourite Spielberg was Close Encounters. And yet here it is at number two? What gives? Well, I love it no less: it remains a masterpiece of the highest order, a fantastic epic of hope and terror that goes to extremes – mental breakdown, government conspiracy, a terrifying abduction – before resolving to be a story about the best of us. The slow knotting of the disparate plot threads, the great, naturalistic performances, the beautiful photography, all unite at that moment at Devil’s Tower. I’ve always loved how many of my obsessions over the years – X-Files-style conspiracies, aliens, visual effects, even my overall interest in movies and moviemaking and the sixties/seventies “Movie Brat” explosion in Hollywood – are all delivered in spades here. To paraphrase the film, Spielberg was probably one of them.

One: Jaws (1975)

A new champion! I decided, after much internal strife, that whilst I don’t think Jaws is any better than Encounters, and I don’t necessarily love it any more, if I had to put one on it would be the shark movie. It’s arguably more enjoyable, and so it gets the top spot, by a nano-millimetre. Whilst Encounters is an expansive epic this is a taught chamber piece, illuminated by the tortured face of Schieder’s Martin Brody. Whilst it’s the shark bits that stick in the public consciousness – no doubt soundtracked by another all-timer of a score from John Williams, whose contribution here is fundamental to the film’s success – it’s the stories on land, of Schieder battling with bureaucracy or getting drunk at the dinner table, that hit the hardest for me. And then when they get on the boat! Oh my god! It’s just banger after banger from Spielberg and crew over here. The fact that he was able to achieve all this – to conceptualise it, to frame and shoot it, and to deal with the myriad problems that plagued the shoot – when he was only 27 and this was technically only his second feature film (Duel was meant to be a TV movie), is an astounding piece of work. My hat’s off to you, Steven. I’ll go see Disclosure Day next week.

Ten: Pumpkin and Honey Bunny (Tim Roth and Amanda Plummer, Pulp Fiction, 1994)

Yeah, okay, a twofer again; I’m always doing this. But Pulp’s opening (and closing!) First Couple of Crime are a delightful pair to spend time with. They banter with the lived-in fashion of a pair of old marrieds; they joke and compliment each other. And they seem utterly, totally devoted to one another. Forget Cliff Booth, I wanna know what these crazy cats are up to now.

Nine: Vincent Vega (John Travolta, Pulp Fiction, 1994)

The ostensible lead of Pulp is outwardly suave and cool, but underneath he’s a bit of a screw-up with – let’s be honest – a heroin problem. But his bundle of contradictions and complexities – his ageing-seventies-rockabilly vibe that’s part Elvis and part Dog Day Afternoon – all combine to create someone who feels nuanced and engaging. Plus he’s full of interesting facts about European fast food retailers.

Eight: Mr. White (Harvey Keitel, Reservoir Dogs, 1992)

Amongst a cast of unrepentant criminals, Mr. White is the one who appears to have some genuine honour. He’s got a moral code, which is more than can be said for the murderous likes of Mr. Blonde or Nice Guy Eddie. He – fatally, tragically – sticks up for Mr. Orange, leading to the film’s infamous climactic stand-off. His face when the truth dawns and he realises the scale of the loss is heartbreaking, despite the fact that White is, basically, a bad guy and has just murdered the good guy. A terrific performance from Keitel.

Seven: Stephen (Samuel L. Jackson, Django Unchained, 2012)

Amongst Tarantino’s stable of criminals and low-lifes, Stephen is a particular piece of work. A slave who’s utterly devoted to his master, who metes out violence and racist abuse to other slaves; who is not only complicit in the horrific system that’s ensnared him, but wholly supportive of it. He’s a villain and a monster, but also tragic, and the fact Jackson wasn’t even nominated for the role is astounding; it’s arguably his best performance.

Six: Beatrix “The Bride” Kiddo (Uma Thurman, Kill Bill: Volume 1, 2003)

The protagonist of the two Kill Bills (Kills Bill?) is a fantastic presence; enigmatic and cool, a force to be reckoned with but also seeming open, empathetic, warm. She’s not some grumpy taciturn No Name type; she’s utterly convincing as an elite assassin, but we also root for her emotionally despite the brutality she’s meting out. There’s also a lot of comedy in the performance, Thurman nailing the balance between badass killer and goofy action star.

Five: Butch Coolidge (Bruce Willis, Pulp Fiction, 1994)

What I love about Butch is how his layers are slowly unpeeled. He’s a gone-to-seed corrupt boxer, paid to take a dive; but then we see he’s actually aiming at something more nuanced but a lot riskier. He has, it seems, a more romantic soul where boxing is concerned; and in his love life, too, where he’s a great big soppy mess with his girlfriend. Both his temper and his sentimentality get him into trouble, but thankfully his resourceful badassery gets him out of it; and that honour comes back into the fray when he makes the fateful decision to save Marsellus Wallace’s life. See? Layered!

Four: Mr. Pink (Steve Buscemi, Reservoir Dogs, 1992)

The face that launched a thousand memes, beloved miniature violin player Mr. Pink is Reservoir Dogs’ own Shaggy Rogers: a loveable coward who’s also the source of much comedy. Whether it’s his missive about tipping or his grumpiness over his name (“Mr. Pink sounds like Mr. Pussy”), he’s a laughable little sourpuss. The fact that his whingey ways very nearly lead to him being the only dog left alive with the diamonds is perhaps testament to his tenacity.

Three: Jackie Brown (Pam Grier, Jackie Brown, 1997)

I’ll always maintain that Jackie Brown is Tarantino’s most mature work, a slightly more stripped-back and sombre tale of ageing, regret, and second chances. Jackie herself is wonderfully human, a woman who’s lived a life but in middle-age feels she’s drifted; Grier gives her strength and dignity but also a humane sadness. Her relationship with Robert Forster’s Max Cherry is beautiful, two old(er) souls connecting as they pass in different directions.

Two: Mia Wallace (Uma Thurman, Pulp Fiction, 1994)

Mia isn’t really in Pulp all that much, but she leaves a hell of a mark. Something of a chaos agent, we’re always at a loss to her true motives, but we see so much bubbling beneath the surface. She’s a smart cookie, aware of her position and how other people view her, but unafraid to be herself. There’s a darkness, perhaps, underneath her vibrant exterior; not only the drugs but also a sense of needing to be busy, needing to have fun all the time. Still, this adds to her character, makes her interesting; and let’s face it, every moment she’s on screen is, at the very least, interesting.

One: Jules Winnfield (Samuel L. Jackson, Pulp Fiction, 1994)

Ten: Ben Grimm (The Fantastic Four: First Steps, 2025)

I might have some issues with this, both logistically and aesthetically, but I had to include it because: the Thing has a beard? Eh? How does that work? Is it just the rocks on his chin that... grow, or do they also grow... elsewhere? I feel like Marvel have opened a Pandora’s Box here and it doesn’t bear thinking about the ramifications.

Nine: T’Challa (Black Panther, 2018)

When we first meet T’Challa in Civil War, he’s sporting a very thinly-trimmed goatee. By the time he stars in his own film, he’s allowed it to fill out a bit more, and it looks a lot better. It's still a bit too fiddly-looking for my tastes, but it suits his personality: it looks modern and cool, but also gives him a bit of kingly gravitas.

Eight: Tony Stark (Iron Man, 2008)

Tony’s beard is iconic but it’s also a bit dumb. A very neatly-trimmed and angular goatee that looks like it’d be a nightmare to maintain. On the other hand, it’s stylised enough to feel like a signature, and its hard edges reflects his high-tech futurist persona, and the sheer fact that it looks like it requires daily upkeep suggests the owner of the beard is someone with the time and the money to employ a full-time beard specialist in his entourage. The fact it doesn’t seem to change much either when he’s in captivity or lost in space does imply he’s using some kind of advanced technology to keep it neat.

Seven: Odin (Thor: Ragnarok, 2017)

A powerful king like Odin needs a big bushy beard to show off his inherent kingliness, and this doesn’t disappoint. He doesn’t go the Full Gandalf, but it’s more than just a robust growth: there’s a distinct amount of work done to this, as befits his status as, like, one of the most powerful beings in the cosmos. It practically screams “king”, and to be honest it goes quite a long way to screaming “god” too. I've gone with Ragnarok because it looks just a shade longer, which I like.

Six: Alexei Shostakov (Thunderbolts*, 2025)

Ah, my beloved Red Guardian. The worst part of Thunderbolts* is right at the end when we see he’s trimmed his beard, urgh. But the frankly massive fizzog shield he’s got in this is a delight. In Black Widow, when he’s in prison, it’s wilder and woollier; here, he’s definitely keeping on top of it, but it’s still got a sense of danger to it. It's big and it may at any moment escape containment. It perfectly marries with his character: crazy, silly, but adorable.

Five: Nick Fury (Secret Invasion, 2023)

You're not going to see Secret Invasion crop up on many Top Tens, but I can’t not mention Fury’s amazing mouth merkin. On the one hand, we contrast it with his incredibly groomed, neat little beard from his earlier MCU appearances: this is the wild growth of a man off his game. It’s facial hair as character development. But on the other hand, what a beard: bold, beautiful, and bushy, and the grey adds even more gravitas to Fury’s already-impressive aura.

Four: Thor (Avengers: Endgame, 2019)

Thor has, on balance, had the best beards of the MCU. His initial look was a bit “Obi-Wan in Episode II”: too thin, tepid, pale. By the time of Ragnarok and Infinity War, it was thicker and darker, and it looked amazing. However, I’m going for his OTT Endgame look, because, well, it’s just badass. When he Thors Out at the end, his damn beard is plaited. He’s full-on superhero space Viking, and it’s incredibly cool. It's a bit of a shame he got fit, really!

Three: Frank Castle (The Punisher: One Last Kill, 2026)

The guy who inspired it all has to have a place. Frank’s beard might be unkempt and definitely born out of trauma and despair, but it still looks great. He just suits a beard, even if the character doesn’t really have one in the comics. It's dark, like his psyche, but it’s also thick and strong, because he’s a Great Big Manly Man. It’s a beautiful testament to check forestry. He appears to have shaved it off by the time of Spider-Man: Brand New Day; but, to be fair, he probably found it was hard work cleaning all the mobster blood out of it after he stabbed them to death with a biro.

Two: Ego (Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, 2017)

Broadly similar to Odin’s beard, and occupying an adjacent niche of “powerful space god”, Ego’s boy-bristles get a higher spot because it’s a fuller, rounder, more voluminous experience. This is a broad, soft, incredibly coiffed beard: big, grey, and seeming like it’d be soft to the touch. It’s the beard of an older man, for sure, but it doesn’t really give off Old Man the way Odin’s does: there’s still a suavity there, as befits a character whose whole deal is sowing his wild oats across the universe. It’s the beard we’d all like to have when we grow up, but we also have to acknowledge that only of us gets to be Kurt Russell.

One: Steve Rogers (Avengers: Infinity War, 2018)

Utterly stealing Thor’s thunder (see what I did there?) comes Captain America himself. This is, again, beard as storytelling tool: it conveys his journey from the idealistic youth of The First Avenger. He's on the run, so who has time to shave? But beards connote not just masculinity but maturity: he’s weathered, aged, grown wiser through his mistakes. He’s a leader, both of a team and also, morally, of a nation. And the darker blonde in the beard matches his darker outlook – and, indeed, his darker uniform, the gaudier colours blacked out. It's also a realistic beard: unlike some of these, you could just have this beard and you’d look great going to Asda! In a very real sense, it is America’s Beard, and I bet Scott Lang would love it.

Ten: Anakin Skywalker (The Empire Strikes Back, 1980)

Anakin’s whole deal could really be defined by his being a father. As soon as he discovers he has a son, his attitude and aims change: he ceases to be a mere pawn of the Emperor and seeks to be close to Luke. True, he’s still at that point an evil Sith Lord and wants Luke to join him as his apprentice, but still: he cares. And, of course, it’s the love of his son – and love for his son – that ultimately compels him to kill the Emperor and return to the light. He’s the franchise’s most important parent, but let’s be honest, trying to co-opt your kids into your creepy death cult isn’t the greatest dad move, so he’s here near the bottom of the list.

Nine: Obi-Wan Kenobi (Star Wars, 1977)

Old Ben is interesting, because really he had two shots to raise a kid, and you could argue he cocked it up both times. He was too young, really, to be saddled with the responsibility of training Anakin; but, of course, younger men have had fatherhood thrust upon them and done a better job. He tried, bless him, but his strict interpretation of Jedi codes wouldn’t allow him to be flexible to Anakin’s needs, especially with the Dark Lord of the Sith looming. So as much as he loved Anakin, as much as he tried to shape him into a good man, we have to acknowledge his failure. And then with Luke, he was a bit better in terms of offering training and advice, but he still lacked the courage of belief to accept that peace and forgiveness was the path to redemption, and not going in swinging. So: nice guy; great beard; spotty record as a parent.

Eight: Han Solo and Leia Organa (Star Wars: The Force Awakens, 2015)

I’ve lumped them together because they’re the first actual couple we’ve encountered (by the time Anakin knew he was a parent, Padme was already dead, hence her not being counted here). I don’t blame them at all for what happened to their son, Ben; they tried their best, and even after being defeated they still believed in him, believed he could return. In  fact, they both bet their lives on it, and in a way they both sacrificed themselves to help bring Ben back from the Dark Side. But still, they did raise a mass murderer, so, y’know, swings and roundabouts.

Seven: Jango Fett (Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones, 2002)

Jango is a little bit like Vader or Jabba, I guess, in that he clearly loves his son, but he’s not the most ideal parental role model. Raising little Boba, teaching him, spending time with him, is clearly a big deal for Jango; he loves having a kid, and there’s a real tenderness between the two of them. But then, he’s training Boba to be a ruthless assassin and criminal, so is that really a good thing? Plus it’s a little bit narcissistic if your child is an exact clone of yourself. I mean, make the kid ginger or something, just to differentiate.

Six: Qui-Gon Jinn (Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace, 1999)

Of all the parental types we’ve had so far, I think Qui-Gon is probably the healthiest. He sees the humanity in Anakin as well as the power and potential; he’s willing to defy the Jedi Council to teach the boy. I like to think he understands that someone as strong with the Force as Anakin needs a soft hand and close, emotional guidance, rather than the doctrine of the Jedi. His last thoughts are about Anakin’s welfare, pleading with Obi-Wan to see the good in him and help to bring it out. I do wonder what would have become of Anakin had Qui-Gon survived.

Five: Luthen Rael (Andor, 2022)

There are two sides to Luthen, and it’s the kind of dichotomy that we see in a few of these parents. On the one hand, he’s a loving and attentive parent who has a great relationship with his adoptive daughter Kleya; on the other hand, he’s a violent revolutionary not afraid of cold-blooded murder if he thinks it’s in the greater good, and from the off he instructs her in his line of rebellious work. Luthen and Kleya are fascinating, complex characters, in many ways the heart of Andor, and their relationship is beautiful to behold. They bicker and joke the way parents and adult children often do, but they are clearly very close. Their dedication to the nascent Rebellion is reinforced by the love they have for one another: when an injured Luthen risks being compromised by the Empire, Kleya goes to extreme actions to prevent that happening because she knows it’s what he’d want, even though it breaks her heart. I mean, I guess that’s good parenting?

Four: Owen and Beru Lars (Star Wars, 1977)

The Lars get a bad rap. Owen is very grumpy, constantly chiding Luke to do his chores, and refusing to let him run off to have fun with his friends or – ye gods! – join the Imperial Academy. But there’s good reason! His dad fell to the Dark Side and massacred all the Jedi! So it’s understandable they want to keep Luke on a tight leash just in case. But think about it: they took in this kid, technically their nephew although there’s barely any relationship in place there, and raised him, fed him with lots of nice blue milk, despite knowing that at any point he might (a) develop freaky powers, (b) become the subject of a galaxy-wide manhunt by an evil space wizard, or (c) turn evil himself. And what thanks do they get? They get skeletonned. I mean, where’s the justice?

Three: Luke Skywalker (Star Wars: The Last Jedi, 2017)

Now, although he never mentions them, Luke owes Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru a great debt. You could argue that their down-to-Tatooine nature gave him a great grounding which prevented him from going off the rails. But sadly this wasn’t enough when he had a go at being a parental figure himself. He lost his cool teaching Ben Solo and then went full-bore grump with Rey. But I think there’s something supremely honest about his relationship with Rey; he doesn’t view the Force quite as reverentially as Obi-Wan did, and he really tries to instil not just a scepticism but also a respect of its power in Rey. And he’s open about his failings, and desperate for her not to make his mistakes. I think given time he’d have been a fantastic father figure for her, and even in the short time they spend together she’s a wonderful influence on him. We are what they grow beyond indeed.

Two: Maarva Andor (Andor, 2022)

So after a list of relatively famous names and faces, we come to what is perhaps the most obscure character but also clearly one of the best. Maarva, the adoptive mother of Cassian Andor, is brilliantly played by Fiona Shaw, is both nurturing and educating. She takes in Cassian as a child and, with her husband Clem, raises him as their son. However, they also become increasingly radicalised, and she tries to instil in him a rebellious nature that encourages him to kick back against the Empire – as well as, presumably, teaching him all sorts of criminal chicanery. She refuses to give in, stands her ground even when old and frail, and manages to deliver a rousing call to arms from beyond the grave. She’s the perfect combination of Star Wars’ sympathetic heart and its fighting spirit.

One: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian, 2019)

How many of these parents would throw out central tenets of their faith for their children? Din Djarin, so committed to his particular fundamentalist sect of Mandalorianism, repeatedly takes his helmet off because of his love for Grogu. It’s a slow-burn but incredibly powerful relationship, father and son, as Djarin risks everything and burns everyone for the protection of his little green baby. And even though he kills people for a living, he still finds time to be nurturing and caring, trying his very best to stop little Grogu eating too many biscuits (or frog-person babies). They’re just great together, their little back-and-forth banter and the subtle grace notes of their relationship, and as Grogu grows more powerful it’s also cool to see Djarin become more of a teacher. Perhaps it was inevitable that in the week The Mandalorian and Grogu comes out in cinemas that I’d rank the Mandalorian as the best Star Wars parent, but what can we say? This is the way.

Ten: Harry Stamper (Armageddon, 1998)

Propping up the list is this supreme bit of nineties cheese. Armageddon is a fantastically daft film, one in which every emotion is dialled so high that the speakers blow, every raised eyebrow scored to high-tension strings, and not a single brow is unmolested by beautifully photographed sweat. So of course it ends in the most melodramatic of moments, Bruce Willis’ grumpy oilman refusing to allow Ben Affleck’s young doofus to die detonating the bomb that will save the world. We’d all like to shake the hand of the daughter of the bravest man, etc etc etc.

Nine: Ellen Ripley (Alien3, 1992)

Lower down than maybe it could have been because it’s a tiny bit of a cheat: Ripley is dying anyway, a xenomorph queen embryo growing in her chest. It’s a fitting and symbolic end for the character after fighting these beasties across the universe and back again. But it’s her final act of defiance – throwing herself into molten steel to deny Weyland-Yutani the opportunity to get their hands on a baby alien – that cements her place. Holding the xenomorph to her chest as she falls to their collective doom is a great visual, and – all the other weirdness about Alien3 notwithstanding – a cool place to end. Er, until they didn’t.

Eight: Tony Stark (Avengers: Endgame, 2019)

Ah, my beloved MCU: where would we be without you? Probably one of the most iconic deaths of recent cinematic history, this is one of those neat pieces of long-form writing that knits together multiple threads – Tony’s ego, his protective streak, his technological nous – and gives us an epic finale as he uses his suit to steal the infinity stones and get rid of Thanos once and for all. His statement – “I am Iron Man” – obviously repeating his lines from the first MCU movie, a declaration that really set the nascent Marvel universe apart from the very secret-identity-focuses worlds of past superhero movies; and Pepper’s “you can rest now” adds to the tragic sauce.

Seven: Gordon Zellaby (Village of the Damned, 1960)

Okay, bit of a niche one perhaps, that’ll need a wee bit of explaining. A creepy, slow-burn sci-fi horror that follows a group of otherworldly children born to every woman in the village; as they grow their mental powers increase and it’s clear they’re up to no good. Enter schoolteacher Gordon Zellaby (George Sanders), who is attempting to dispose of the kids with a bomb hidden in his briefcase. They turn their telepathic gaze upon him, and to try to block them out he envisions a brick wall. We have moments of tension as we see the wall in his mind, cracking and straining as the kids try to force their way through, until eventually the bomb goes off and kills everyone – Zellaby included.

Six: Father Damien Karras (The Exorcist, 1973)

Another classic horror death! This one is really cool because not only is it a supreme act of self-sacrifice but also completes Father Karras’ arc as he reconciles and recovers his faith. At the climax of the exorcism of Regan MacNeil, he basically entices the demon Pazuzu into his own body, thus freeing Regan of her possession. At which point, he promptly hurls himself out of the nearest window and down a flight of incredibly painful-looking concrete steps, killing himself and thus preventing the Pazuzu within him from wreaking any more havoc. His willingness to both accept his lapsing faith and also risk the wrath of a demon elevates his sacrifice.

Five: Luke Skywalker (Star Wars: The Last Jedi, 2017)

I’m going there! I am! Despite what some would have you believe, Luke’s death in The Last Jedi is supremely heroic, noble, and a stunning display of powers. The whole film leads you to believe that Luke will, indeed, stride forth and rejoin the fight, wielding his lightsaber and facing down the First Order; meanwhile, Luke keeps trying to tell us that confronting violence with violence is not always the way, and that he can’t physically stop the First Order. So when he does step out onto that field to fight Kylo Ren, we think it’s a classic duel; but in reality he’s astrally projecting himself across the entire universe, fooling everyone into thinking he’s really there. The strain from his endeavours causes him to expire and rejoin the Force. It’s a brilliant ending to the movie, and to Luke; and, of course, the main reason he’s doing this is to give the Resistance time to escape. It’s a last-ditch suicide play to not only inspire people, to show them the way, but basically just to save his friends’ lives. And his final “See you round, kid,” to Kylo is a terrific last line.

Four: The Iron Giant (The Iron Giant, 1999)

Here we are, the best Superman film of all time. Yeah, I know: the Giant doesn’t actually die here, because the last thing we see is all the various cogs and bolts and screws and things slowly rebuilding themselves somewhere in the Arctic. But it doesn’t make his sacrifice less noble. With a nuclear missile about to kill everyone he cares about, he instantly flies up to intercept it; but what gets me – what makes this one of the greatest heroic deaths – is his reasoning. He embraces his freedom, eschewing his creation – he was a weapon – and choosing who he wants to be. And – this is the kicker – based on everything he’s been shown on Earth, who does he want to be? “Superman”. See, it’s not just about how heroic the Giant is; it’s about how heroic Superman is. The character so good, even a totally unrelated film manages to somehow be about him.

Three: Bing Bong (Inside Out, 2016)

Of all of these deaths, this one is the really tragic one; the one that really makes me cry ugly tears. Bing Bong, the silly, adorable little elephant-thingie with a cute song, an imaginary friend created by a tiny Riley, is about to be utterly, permanently forgotten by the now-adolescent Riley. But knowing that what Riley really needs is her Joy back – and her core memories – he sacrifices himself to allow Joy to escape forgetfulness, diving off the back of his super-powered kart to give Joy the lift she needs to get away. And thus he fades, destined to be forgotten, but not for a second regretting his choice; “take her to the moon for me”. It’s the way this act of heroism represents the growth of children – how in order to become the adults they need to be, they are forced to forget some of the things that made them children – that makes this one really sting; and, of course, Joy is the parent who will always remember the child, long after she’s grown up. Sorry, is someone cutting onions nearby…?

Two: Spock (Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, 1982)

We’re really hitting the icons now, aren’t we? For a long time this was the gold standard of cinematic death scenes. There’s a colossal weight behind it; this is Spock, for Christ’s sake. With the Enterprise crippled, he undertakes his own Kobayashi Maru and makes the logical decision to repair the engines despite knowing he’ll suffer a lethal dose of radiation. It’s only logical, after all; the needs of the many and all that. But Nimoy and Shatner put so much into their final scene, from Spock’s little tug to straighten is uniform, to Kirk not pressing the intercom properly, to their plaintive Vulcan greeting across the glass. “I am, and always will be, your friend,” he says, and he might as well be saying it to all of us. And thus a titan of sci-fi passes; an icon breathes his last. Of all the souls we have encountered in our travels, his was the most… hhhuman. And then he comes back to life, natch.

One: Boromir (The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring, 2001)

If you’re going to do an heroic death, this is the way. Do I need to spell it out? Yes, Boromir done cocked up by trying to take the Ring; but that’s coz it was working its evil magic! Once it’s out of his system he comes to his senses, and by God, does he prove himself, facing down an army of Uruk-Hai single-handed, batting them away like flies. The sense of weight and grandeur given to this scene is immense, as he’s peppered with arrows, and time and again he rises, understanding the gravity of his task. You can see in his eyes that he knows it’s a failure, that he knows he’s already dead: but he refuses to stop, getting up again and again to fight off more Orcs. He absolutely must keep going until all the strength leaves his body. And, of course, he’s ultimately successful: yes, the hobbits are briefly captured, but his actions lead to the Ring going on its true course, and the hobbits engaging the help of the Ents. He kept his honour, he looked cool doing it, and it gave Sean Bean – king of the cinematic death scene – the most heroic of send-offs. Blow your horn, fellas.  

Yeah, so like I said, this was an incredibly hard list to finalise, even after I’d worked out all my little concessions and rules. Duncan Idaho from Dune was here for the longest time, but he just kept slipping further and further down; his demise a little bit too similar to Boromir’s, perhaps. I really wanted to include Nux from Fury Road because of his ark and how beautiful it is, and also because his death is the death of the film’s iconic War Rig too (I did at least paraphrase his last words right at the top). And then there were the likes of Leon, or Terminator 2’s Miles Dyson (who just missed out because he was kinda already dead meat before he decided to stay behind and set off the explosion). Yondu! Holdo! Arguably the entire cast of The Wild Bunch!

Ten: Timecop (1994)

A genuinely enjoyable, if very daft, sci-fi action film that centres on a terrific premise: officers who police the timeline, preventing manipulation of the past and chronal chicanery. The groundwork, and the rules, are all established here; and at the time of release, Jean Claude Van Damme was certainly a big enough star to carry a sequel. I mean, considering how many Universal Soldier movies they made, with and without JCVD, it’s surprising we never got Timecop 2. But it’s languishing at the bottom of this list because technically they did make a very short-lived TV show spin-off. But let’s face it, a movie would have been better.

Nine: Inception (2010)

I think it says something for the power of Christopher Nolan that even sixteen years ago he had the clout to make a massive, original sci-fi blockbuster that grossed nearly a billion dollars… and seemingly no one wanted to sequelise it. The setup is ripe for continuing adventures, too: a team of high-tech criminals who invade people’s dreams. The film spells out all the logic, and how that can lead to exciting set-pieces such as the famous rotating corridor sequence. Now, yes, it does have a famously enigmatic ending that I would not want messed with; but you could definitely have had more fun with the premise or the world. But this film is at nine because, really, we should celebrate these one-off, individual ideas more; I wouldn’t want anyone but Nolan really having a shot at Inception 2: Dream a Little Bigger, Darling, and it’s kinda nice at the end of the day that we just had this one spin of the top. But if I could plant an idea in Chris’ head…

Eight: Commando (1985)

When I started writing this list I was a little bit worried it would just degenerate into a bunch of Sly and Arnie films from the eighties; those guys made a lot of – frankly pretty cool – one-off action movies. Nevertheless, Commando feels like it could have been the beginnings almost of a Rambo-style franchise for Big Arn. His John Matrix is just the right mix of badass cool and preposterous silliness; he gets cool one-liners after he kills people (“He’s dead tired”; “I let him go”); and, yes, there is outrageous and over-the-top action. A Commando sequel was, apparently, in the works for a while, and Arnold has even suggested it still might appear; but it would have been cool to see Matrix once more dragged out of retirement with Chenny forty years ago.

Seven: Event Horizon (1997)

It doesn’t have to be big, explosive action movies that deserved a sequel. Horror movies often start big, long-running franchises; and Paul W.S. Anderson’s has the benefit of being both an intensely creepy, demonic horror film of both supernatural and psychological chills, as well as a cool sci-fi with great production design, modelwork, and – yes – some big explodey bits. Famously a critical and commercial flop on release, on the one hand it’s unsurprising it never got a sequel; and, indeed, it has a great ending that doesn’t need unpicking. But a follow-up featuring the return of the Event Horizon? I’m kinda surprised they didn’t even try it as a straight-to-DVD movie in the mid-noughties.  

Six: The Last Boy Scout (1991)

This is another one that could have been said to underperform, hence no sequel. But another big Shane Black-written action-buddy-comedy – Lethal Weapon – ended up with three sequels (and Mel’s threatening a fifth), so it’s a shame this delightful, knockabout, hilarious little film only had one go. Bruce Willis is slobby, grumpy, and very funny; Damon Wayans is cool; and it does some good work undercutting its own badassedness (Willis begins the film learning his wife’s having an affair). I’d have loved to see them trading barbs and punches one more time.

Five: The Fifth Element (1997)

Oh, hey, welcome back, Bruce. I’m gonna deal with the elephant in the room right away and say I’m not really in any rush to see another Luc Besson film; but this film had such a cool, unique sense of style and identity that I do think it’s a shame we only got to experience it once. It’s hard to imagine now, but for the longest time we didn’t get complete sci-fi worlds: this film came out before the Star Wars prequels, and gridlocked hovercars in a futuristic cityscape was mind-blowing, visually, before we even got to the really trippy stuff (like Gary Oldman’s accent). The film does feel rather wrapped up, plot-wise, to be honest, but that never really stopped the likes of Star Wars, so I’m sure some other space-nasty could see Corben Dallas and Leeloo venture out once more. Not now though; let’s leave it be. Circa 2000? Yeah, I’d have been down.

Four: True Lies (1994)

Yep, Arnold’s back. This spy movie is, in many ways, something of a Bond parody: it’s certainly very funny, with the playful back-and-forth between Arnie and Jamie Lee Curtis, inept terrorists, and Tom Arnold providing wisecracks. Yeah, okay, there are some dodgy, dated bits; but there was certainly enough here to suggest further adventures for Harry and Helen Tasker, especially with an ending that basically establishes her as his new partner. And it’s not as if James Cameron is against sequels! And this film was a huge hit at the time, as well. Oh, and I am aware that after claiming these were all, to the best of my knowledge, “original” films, True Lies is a remake. But, y’know, the sequel would have been original!

Three: Galaxy Quest (1999)

A delightful sci-fi comedy that, like a lot of these films now I come to think about it, succeeds on the strength of its characters. It’s also another film that ends with our heroes off on more continuing adventures: they’ve got their TV show back, and there’s a whole galaxy out there that they’ve just prodded a stick at. Who knows what other weird aliens could come crawling out of the cosmos? Basically, another, er, quest through the galaxy would totally have made sense, and it’s not as if they’re having to pay a Schwarzenegger-sized salary to anybody. Incidentally, Tim Allen had this and Toy Story 2 in the same year, which is an incredible achievement for anybody, let alone Tim Allen.

Two: The Rock (1996)

In a way, The Rock is very one-and-done. I mean, how many times do terrorists take over Alcatraz and you need to team up a mild-mannered chemist with a sexagenarian secret agent to break into an unbreakable prison? It’s a fantastic high concept for a fantastic action movie, but it doesn’t lend itself to further adventures. On the other hand, the film ends with Nicolas Cage’s Stanley Goodspeed in possession of a sensitive government data; one could imagine him going on the run and needing Sean Connery’s help to get the goons off his back. Or maybe John Spencer tracks down Connery’s supposedly-deceased John Mason and Nic has to run and warn him? Whatever, it’s the characters – and the slightly-OTT world they inhabited – that were the real stars; and there was enough there to allow for a further bite of the apple. And y’know what? Even though some of the principles are sadly no longer with us, I’d still get excited if I heard Cage was gonna tell someone they were the Rocket Man one last time.

One: Demolition Man (1993)

This one has it all: a fresh and distinctive sci-fi setting; the sort of procedural status quo that allows for new adventures; a fresh hook – defrosted super-criminals! – that can sustain more than one story; great characters; and big action superstar from the eighties. It’s shocking, really, that we never got more than one Demolition Man. What became of the future after the death of Dr. Cocteau? Who else was put in the cryo-prison? What’s the rest of America like if San Andreas was so seemingly perfect? And, most importantly, how do the three seashells work? Okay, yeah, maybe some of the quirkier “perfect future” edges would have been sanded down; and, again, it’s nice to have this one shining gem of a mid-nineties action movie. But unlike the future worlds of Blade Runner or RoboCop or The Terminator, we’ve only really visited San Andreas once, and on balance that’s a bit of a shame. Even if Stallone in Judge Dredd was almost a photo negative reproduction, it still wasn’t quite the same. Be well, John Spartan. Be well.

Ten: The “I hate working here” guy (Iron Man 3, 2013)

So we’re kicking things off with a fantastic scene that is also a bit of a cheat – hence it’s placement at number ten. Because technically this is one guy who doesn’t die. After a protracted, hilarious, and ingeniously-choreographed action sequence where Tony Stark is trying to assemble his modular armour whilst fighting off a room of goons – flying with only one boot, shooting with one glove, that sort of thing – he gets down to one last bloke aiming a gun at him. Said final guy immediately throws his hands in the air to surrender, saying “I hate working here, they’re so weird.” Comedy gold!

Nine: The washing machine (Ready or Not: Here I Come, 2026)

I was a bit worried this was recency bias talking, but Samara Weaving’s Grace kills a lot of people across these two films, and this one is the stand-out, gross-out, hilarious death. Grace and her sister Faith (Kathryn Newton) manage to briefly overpower their pursuer Viraj (Nadeem Umar-Khitab) and shove him into a large industrial washing machine. It’s a comic delight as he screams amidst the boiling water, and the slow shift in the sisters’ expressions from elation at the victory to realising they’ve just killed a man in a horrible way is hilarious. And then, Grace has to search his burned and mangled body, gipping as she peels clothes away from runny flesh. Like I said, hilarious!

Eight: The cigarette (The Last Boy Scout, 1992)

Going slightly more serious – although sticking in the same Shane Black world as Iron Man 3 – is this underrated Bruce Willis joint. As PI Joe Hallenbeck, he finds himself captured by a couple of henchmen, sitting on a nice chair in a plush mansion awaiting the boss. One of the goons - Chet (Kim Coates) - toys with him, punching Joe whenever he asks for a cigarette; “do that again and I’ll kill ya,” says Joe. Chet – clearly never having seen Die Hard – hits him again, at which point Joe whacks him in the face and shoves his nose through his brain (a move which I feel was more famous in the nineties than it is now). The sequence is sudden and brutal but also – whisper it – pretty funny.

Seven: The book (John Wick Chapter 3: Parabellum, 2019)

So we’re getting to a point of order here which is: what is a “henchman”? Because a lot of the people John Wick seems to fight tend to be individual, rival hitman rather than the hired lackeys of some Big Bad. And so, in Chapter 3, quite early doors, the recently-excommunicado Johnathan comes across a frankly colossal adversary in a library – Ernest, played by Serbian basketballer Boban Marjanović – and what ensues is a brutal close-quarters beating. In the end, the Baba Yaga is victorious when he uses a chuffing huge book to shatter Ernest’s jaw, leaving it hanging loose and wobbly on his face, before breaking the guy’s neck. It’s a nasty business but an iconic moment.

Six: The train fight (From Russia With Love, 1963)

These have all tended to be either humorous or kinda cool so far. But this tense, gritty dust-up is far more down-to-earth; memorable more for its brutality and the physical presence of Connery’s Bond and Robert Shaw as his Soviet counterpart Red Grant. Finally meeting in a secluded train compartment, they batter the heck out of each other in extreme close quarters, before Grant gets a garrotte around his opponent’s neck. But Bond has a hidden knife and stabs Grant, turning the tables and garrotting the Russian. For a film over sixty years old, it’s incredibly violent and realistic, and reinforces the brutality that’s often present in Bond.

Five: The pencil trick (The Dark Knight, 2008)

Nobody said the person doing the henchman-slaying had to be the hero. In this unforgettable full scale intro to Heath Ledger’s Joker. In his flamboyant but demented style, he makes a pencil disappear by ramming it through the eye socket of a gangster’s bodyguard. It’s a shocking and rather squirmy moment, but showcases how much of a threat he really can be; and his slightly lacklustre flourish of “ta-dah!” afterwards is the icing on the evil cake. My only real quibble is: how on earth did he get the pencil to stick to the table in the first place?

Four: The corkscrews (The Equalizer, 2014)

My favourite Equalizer beat-down is actually when Denzel’s Robert McCall takes down a room of misogynistic frat boys in part 2, but technically none of them die so I can’t count that. But this scene, which is the first time we see his particular skillset and single-minded, logistical approach to problems. He makes his way through a room of Russian mobsters, using whatever is at hand – glasses, bottles, other people’s guns – until he finally faces off with some final guy whilst wielding two corkscrews. He repeatedly stabs the guy – with corkscrews – until he sticks one through his chin and we can see it in his mouth. It’s totally great.

Three: The toxic waste guy (RoboCop, 1988)

We’re into the gold standard now, guys, and this is one of the most iconic deaths of the eighties – hell, possibly of all cinema. In the final conflict of the film, badguy goon Emil, played by Paul McCrane (E.R.’s Dr. Romano!), crashes his van into a vat of toxic waste, rolling out of the back doors amidst a deluge of steaming liquid. He emerges all mutated and melty, which seems horrible enough; but then Clarence Boddicker (Kurtwood Smith) hits him with a car, at which point he explodes like a water balloon filled with raw meat, his body sloshing over the windscreen in the world’s worst car wash. I cannot overstate the impact this scene had on the children who watched the film, far too young, in the eighties.

Two: The steamroller (Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery, 1997)

Okay, we’re back in the proper comedy here, and this one is so funny that it makes it almost to the top of the list. In a fantastic parody of the entire concept of henchman deaths, we first of all have an hilarious send-up of the kill itself – Austin driving an incredibly slow-moving steamroller at a henchman, neither one managing to move despite the glacial pace. And then, going deeper and denser, after he dies we cut to his family – his wife and stepson – receiving the news of his death, in a scene wonderfully framed in the iconography of suburban Americana. Doubling down in such a ridiculously silly fashion on the trope really reinforces the gag; and it’s such a good one, that Mike Myers does it twice. Mutated sea bass, anyone?

One: The swordsman AND Propeller Nazi (Raiders of the Lost Ark, 1981)

Once again I cheat. Because how can I pick between these two? The scene where Indy faces the swordsman is one of the most iconic in all of cinema. It’s so perfectly framed and timed: the crowd parting to reveal the swordsman, his impressive twirling, Indy’s knackered and disinterested shooting of him. It’s a moment of sublime and rather silly comedy, and could easily be number one on its own. But later on, he has a protracted and bruising fist-fight with a large, shirtless, moustachioed Nazi whilst Marion tries to stop a propeller plane from taking off. Now, Harrison Ford can take a punch on camera, so the fight is full of his lovely little comic grace notes of pain, surprise, and resolve; but it’s all capped off when the Nazi himself is shocked to discover the propellers are upon him, and as Indy cowers, the plane is lavishly splashed with blood. And once again I am forced to say: this is very, very funny.

I’m a little bit worried how many of these were incredibly violent and I was left saying “no, really, this is the funny kind of violent”. Oh well.

Ten: Joyce Byers (Winona Ryder)

Joyce is kind of the beating heart of the first season. Ryder gives the stand-out performance of the entire series as an increasingly harried mother who seems to all concerned as if she’s going insane with mania over the disappearance – and alleged death – of her son. But, obviously, we know she’s right, and if truth be told her light doesn’t shine quite as bright after that. She’s certainly very funny, and the strength of spirit remains when she is (for example) breaking Hopper out of a Russian prison; but her force and tenacity in the early years is what earns her a place on this list.

Nine: Eddie Munson (Joseph Quinn)

Johnny Storm himself only has a brief tenure in Hawkins, but he burns very brightly (sorrynotsorry). He’s open-hearted and good-natured despite his rough exterior; a real Nice Guy Eddie. He’s so enthusiastic and positive towards his friends that it makes the tragedy of his “Satanic Panic” storyline all the stronger. And in a group that comprises wiseguys, badasses, and at least one actual superhero, his fear and reluctance coupled with his eventual quiet heroism stands out.  

Eight: Will Byers (Noah Schnapp)

Overcoming not just a relentlessly traumatic storyline – that sees him abducted, possessed, separated from his friends, and traversing an incredibly difficult emotional minefield – but also the worst haircut in ten years’ worth of programming, Will is a star. Comfortably one of the best performances from the young cast, despite the repeated horrors inflicted upon him he doesn’t seem like a victim or a martyr; rather, his inner strength frequently shines through. The delicate, tragic, and ultimately victorious way he navigates his sexuality is also rather well done, not least because of Schnapp’s earnest, truthful performance.

Seven: Jane “Eleven” Hopper (Millie Bobby Brown)

Probably some will find it surprising that El is so far down this list; hopefully my enthusiasm for the other six will explain why! But all the same, she’s still a cool character, transitioning from the almost alien-esque outsider to a regular teenager to a truly heroic power player across five seasons. She is one of the most honest and heartfelt characters, wearing her emotions as openly as her nosebleeds, and her relationships with – in particular – Mike and Hopper are endearing, amusing, and often moving. Plus, she’s just really cool when she unleashes her powers.

Six: Max Mayfield (Sadie Sink)

Coming in hot with a snarky, spiky persona, Max is immediately interesting, and how she mixes up the dynamic of the boys creates a lot of humour and drama. But underneath the tomboy exterior there’s a lot of intense drama, first with her brother, and then as one of Vecna’s victims. Throughout it all she maintains her fantastic, caustic, sarcastic demeanour, and Sink’s performance is one of the strongest in the show. Also: arguably the best love story in Stranger Things?

Five: Nancy Wheeler (Natalia Dyer)

The sweet, good-natured, nice girl A-student felt like a horror movie cliché, but – like Laurie Strode in Halloween – Nancy revealed hidden depths. Her determination grows in each season as she takes on everything from Demogorgons to misogynistic co-workers, ultimately transitioning into a crackshot marksman and leather-clad warrior; what we call in the business “pulling a Sarah Connor”. In the midst of this are her complicated and nuanced relationships with Steve and Jonathan, offering a nice romantic spine to the whole saga.

Four: Robin Buckley (Maya Hawke)

Coming right out swinging as one of the funniest characters in the show, Robin is fast-talking and just a joy whenever she’s on screen. Someone who can put Steve in his place and also call him up on his privilege, she’s also a chaos engine who absolutely does not have her shit together. The situations she’s forced into – from the comedic joy of impersonating a college student to the straightlaced tension of evacuating kidnapped kids – are ripe with opportunities for humour and pathos, Hawke bringing every shade out of the character. Also, it’s cool to get an LGBTQ+ character out there, and her relationship with Will in the later seasons offers more opportunity to explore those issues in the wider, crazier, more fantastical context.

Three: Steve Harrington (Joe Keery)

A genuine twist in the first season was Steve’s journey from being an absolute douche to being something of a hero. We instantly distrust him, he’s clearly manipulative and only out for his own enjoyment, and we celebrate when Jonathan beats the crap out of him. But he has the humility to come back from it; he genuinely cares for Nancy, and his realisation that he’s blown it hangs heavy over him. Portraying that shift, and that painful self-reflection, is a great thing for Keery. And, amidst all that, he’s a comic high-water mark, especially his banter and bonding with the younger kids. And he has great hair.

Two: Dustin Henderson (Gaten Matarazzo)

Amidst all the younger cohort – and I do feel bad I couldn’t fit them all in – it’s Dustin who stands out. This isn’t just because, arguably, Matarazzo puts in the best overall performance; it’s because Dustin is always interesting, a grade-A uber-nerd who has a fact for every occasion, and is basically the team’s Egon Spengler. He starts out as kind of the “other friend”, seemingly not as close or as invested but just wanting to be along for the ride, but then makes himself invaluable both with his brain and his heart. His friendships with Eddie and Steve are beautiful to behold, as his rebellious streak, most clearly delineated in the final episode’s graduation scene. Of all the characters, he’s probably the one I most want to follow up on: what’s he been doing for the last forty years?

One: Jim Hopper (David Harbour)

Ten: Memory (The Marvels, 2023)

The MCU is often very funny, so it stands to reason there’d be at least one joke in the Top Ten. And, just pipping “there’s only one Blade” at the post, is this incredible needle drop from The Marvels (the most criminally underrated film in the franchise!). the three-way juxtaposition of horror (as the SWORD crew are, essentially, hunted down and eaten by aliens), comedy (the creatures eating them are adorable kittens), and an incongruous but on-the-nose musical choice (Babs singing “Memory” from Cats) all adds up to an incredible, ridiculous, hilarious scene that also manages to make total story sense.

Nine: Agatha All Along (WandaVision, “Breaking the Fourth Wall”, 2021)

There are a few big twists and surprise reveals in the MCU – we’ll get to another one of them later. But few are as joyous as the unveiling of Agatha Harkness in WandaVision. The show was a glorious puzzle box, teasing greater mysteries, and whilst the few red herrings did disappoint, the discovery that a bitchy, manipulative, murderous witch was behind a lot of what was happening was a worthy and entertaining sleight of hand. Especially because it was delivered in such a fantastic, meta, fourth-wall-breaking way, and with a delightful performance from Kathryn Hahn.  

Eight: A Good Man (Captain America: The First Avenger, 2011)

The more time passes, the more I fall in love with Chris Evans’ debut as Cap. Here, in an intimate and quiet moment, the film’s philosophy – and the core of Steve Rogers’ character – is outlined by Stanley Tucci’s Dr. Erskine. It’s a great exposition dump, in a beautifully delivered monologue by Tucci, but also his declaration that Steve is a “good man” gets to the core of the whole endeavour. That Steve himself seems to have internalised it is a nice recurring touch: he passes the shield onto Sam Wilson by calling him a “good man” too.

Seven: The Catch (Spider-Man: No Way Home, 2021)

I wanted to celebrate so much about No Way Home’s perfect use of the multiverse: blending nostalgic fan-service with character building and story heft. It makes sense for the three Peters to join forces, but it’s also a wonderful meta event to see the history of Spider-Man share the screen. But in trying to single out one moment within the finale, I’ve chosen Andrew Garfield’s Spider-Man catching a falling MJ. It’s incredible how this brief cameo manages to shine a new light on the disappointing Amazing Spider-Man 2 and that film’s contentious ending, and give a degree of closure to Garfield’s Peter. Plus it’s just a great action sequence in its own right.

Six: Loki’s Glorious Purpose (Loki, “Glorious Purpose”, 2023)

Loki’s arc over the course of the MCU is extraordinary, taking in full-on villainy, grudging attempts at repentance, and actual death. Loki – the series – really unpicks and unravels the God of Mischief, as it tears him apart, showing multiple versions of himself, and he has to reckon with his small place in the entirety of the multiverse. And, after coming to the conclusion that he doesn’t want any kind of throne after all, he sacrifices himself to save reality, becoming – essentially – the cornerstone of reality itself. The scene where he marches into the maelstrom and seizes the strands of reality, turning them into the branches of Yggrdasil the World Tree, is deeply moving and epic in scope, and gives Loki both a glorious, heroic send-off whilst keeping him around just in case.

Five: The Man Behind the Mandarin (Iron Man 3, 2013)

I mentioned twists before, and this one is the doozy of the whole franchise. Masterfully played and exceptionally well-hidden, the rug-pull that the supposed villain of the film isn’t who we thought is made all the funnier with the juxtaposition of Ben Kingsley’s Trevor Slattery and the persona of the Mandarin. It’s a shock, it’s hilarious, it gave us one of the greatest original characters in the MCU – a comic gem who has, brilliantly, returned over and over again. The fact that it seems to really annoy some people is incredibly odd.

Four: Groot’s Sacrifice (Guardians of the Galaxy, 2014)

There are a lot of memorable deaths in the MCU, and some of them have even stuck! From Quicksilver to Iron Man to Loki to Loki to Loki to… you get the picture. But the most emotional is this, Groot’s great sacrifice play, encasing his new found family with his own body to protect them from a horrific crash. And his reason? “We are Groot”. And y’know what? We are. We really are. And it kinda stuck! Because the other Groot isn’t really this Groot, it’s more like his son or something. I guess. If you squint.

Three: Steve Passes the Test (Captain America: The First Avenger, 2011)

Imagine how good a film would have to be for me to feature it twice! And yet here we are: Cap’s back. This was one of the first gasp-inducing emotional moments for me in the MCU, where Steve Rogers shows his true colours by leaping onto a grenade during training, his first instinct being to sacrifice himself for everyone else. It was, of course, a dummy grenade, but the inherent goodness and heroism of Steve is evident to everyone. Even grumpy old Tommy Lee Jones. Also: if you watch back, you’ll see that Peggy Carter makes a step towards the grenade as well. Great characterisation.

Two: Hammer Time (Avengers: Endgame, 2019)

One of the benefits of a very long-running serial like the MCU is you can seed story elements and then have them pay off big time. The scene in Age of Ultron where everyone is failing to pick up Thor’s hammer is a comic gem, especially the fact that Steve seems to manage to make it wobble a tiny bit. And here, when all hope is lost, we see the hammer rise from the ground, to be wielded by Captain America himself. Did he know all along he could do it? Did he find the inner strength at the right moment? Thor himself isn’t that surprised. But let me tell you, when the hammer flew back into Cap’s hand, the cinema I was in exploded. It’s the greatest moment of audience exultation I’ve ever experienced. Electric.

One: When Peter Met Tony (Captain America: Civil War, 2016)

I feel like I’ve wanged on about this – one of my favourite scenes in any movie – over and over again. But here it is: Peter perfectly encapsulates what I think it means to be a superhero. “If you can do the things I can, and you don’t, then when the bad things happen, they happen because of you.” Basically, it’s a sense of duty: but also it’s a death sentence, because it’s the sort of thinking that has you jumping on grenades. What’s brilliant isn’t just how this reflects Peter’s character, but that Peter is here throwing Steve’s argument back at Tony without realising: that Steve is against the Accords because they might prevent him doing something when bad things happen. Tony, of course, is breaking all his own rules and several laws by binging Spider-Man into the fight. So as well as being a funny scene that nails the characters (and it’s the first time Peter Parker was in the MCU!), it’s also the beating heart of the movie, and its inherent tragedy. See? They’re all about Steve Rogers, even when they’re not.

Ten: Lenny Henry

Lenny is just the right amount of sentimental and exuberant, and he has a good way with a weird noise. He’s only propping up the list, in fact, because he’s already had a bite of the Middle-earth cherry and it feels perhaps unfair: he was a hobbit-esque character in The Rings of Power. But that made him do a slightly dodgy accent, here I’d want him to stick to his native Dudley.

Nine: Hugh Jackman

Jackman is ebullient; he’s a natural born showman (some would say the greatest). He’s a song-and-dance man at heart, so you can totally imagine him troll-a-lolling his heart out. And he’s ageing into a nice weathered look that would suit the character. But is he too much of a heartthrob movie star? Would we see Tom, or Wolverine?

Eight: Jonathan Bailey

Bombadil is supposed to be old, obviously, but he’s not necessarily supposed to look old. Most old people in Middle-earth don’t look at old as they are! So maybe getting a younger actor could put across the youthful energy of the character. Bailey is a great actor who we know can do the charm and handle the songs, and I’m pretty sure he could bring the necessary depth and ambiguity too.

Seven: Jared Harris

Harris, compared to others on this list, isn’t quite as exuberant. However, what he can portray is an intense tightness of character: he can be exquisitely good. Being given free rein to really show someone who is just totally nice and will look after you could be absolutely amazing. And he can do wise with ease. It would be a delight to see him cut loose in this role.

Six: Ewan McGregor

McGregor can be the show-stopping song and dance man; he can be, we all know, a man’s man, ladies’ man, man about town. And he can be as learned as any Jedi Knight you care to mention. But what he’d also bring is a bit of ambiguity; he’s dabbled with the dark side as much as the light. And he possesses an innate sexy kind of cheekiness. Not that I’ve ever thought of Tom Bombadil as sexy. But I guess Goldberry sees something in him. Maybe it’s the beard.

Five: Paterson Joseph

I feel like Wonka showed the world how great Joseph been be and more films should take their lead. He’s got such a twinkle, and he’s such a sexy comedian; but he’s also a terrific actor who can bring the nuance and the hints of darkness the character requires. And we know he can do the old soft shoe – again, look at Wonka.

Four: Brendan Gleeson

There are few actors who can be terrifying and cuddly at exactly the same time but Gleeson is one of them. He can be the hardass who knows the darkness of the universe, but he can also be the kindest soul you ever met. We know once he’s on the scene the hobbits will be safe from evil trees or whatever it is that barrow-wights actually are; he’s got oodles of charm so you can see why Goldberry feel is with him; and if someone told you he might very well be god you’d probably believe them.

Three: Robert Downey Jr.

I’ve tried to steer clear of Americans in this list. I feel the accents shouldn’t wander too far from Tolkien, really. But Downey is pretty good with accents: look at his weird Richard Burton thing he does in Dolittle. Anyway, it should be obvious that RDJ can do everything this role requires: the capering, the singing, the paternal qualities, the hints of darkness, the eccentricity, the ambiguity. And if the two main hobbits can be American, maybe old Tom can too?

Two: Michael Sheen

Sheen, in many ways, seems an obvious choice. He’s obviously a wonderful actor capable of great range, but beyond that he has such an incredible, sonorous voice. All the trill-a-rillos will sound amazing in his dulcet tones. He’s got the twinkle, he’s got the edge, he’s effortlessly charming. And I feel like he’s due another big Hollywood fantasy role. Underworld was a while ago now.

One: Stephen Graham