Gran Torino (2008)
Well, who wants to see their heroes die? Despite some mildy irritating performances from the supporting cast, Gran Torino managed to be a funny, humble and genuinely endearing movie. What you get out of it will largely come down to how fond you are of Clint and his catalogue, but if you're partial, his plight will strike a chord. With veiled references to his right-wing Dirty Harry- era persona, he moves from bigot to reluctant mentor across the run time. The final showdown confounds expectations and turns Eastwood from lone gunslinger to sacrificial lamb. Sniff.
Starman (1984)
The only John Carpenter film to have made me well-up. It really creeps up on you, this one. Up to 1984 Carpenter and sci-fi had hitherto led you down tongue-in-cheek, gory, scary and comic book incarnations of the genre, but not weepies. Aided by a career best showing from Karen Allen and a masterfully judged performance by Jeff Bridges, Carpenter turns what could so easily have been a mawkish, sentimental mess into an affecting sci-fi love story. Starman starts melancholy, then by way of a quirky road movie, ends with a beautifully shot and devastatingly sad, yet hopeful crater-set finale. As Jack Nitzsche's catchy score swells and our odd couple are separated, it gets me every time. Crucially, Carpenter avoids any trite epilogue and ends the movie where it should end.
Cross of Iron (1977)
The definitive proponent of male bonding, Sam Peckinpah wanted you to truly feel his characters' plight as they drank, laughed, fucked, fought and died next to each other. Brutal, and occasionally trippy, his WW2 movie Cross of Iron follows Corporal Steiner's (James Coburn) motley squad of infantry men as they retreat from the Russian front. An angry and political film, it reaches its horrible conclusion as Coburn's exhausted squad finally reach the allied (German in this case) lines only to be cut down by friendly fire, at the hands of Maximillian Schnell's cowardly Prussian aristocrat. We've shared in these guys' experiences, hardships and jokes, so we share more than a little of Steiner's anger at their sorry ends.
Up (2009)
Another so-called family movie that is both the pinnacle of Pixar's work (discuss) and an alarmingly upsetting rallying call for that old chestnut of 'follow your dreams'. There's something inherently wonderful about seeing a happy couple still together in their old age, and something equally distressing about seeing them parted. Whilst it's not quite Amour, the opening 20 minutes or so of Up are truly heartbreaking. In an incredibly short space of time, the film manages to create a huge amount of affection for and empathy with 78 year old Carl Fredricksen – more than most movies manage in their whole run time.
The Killer (1989)
John Woo is single-handedly responsible for my interest in Eastern cinema, and never has his blend of tortured melodrama and the oft-invoked balletic gunplay been so effective as in The Killer (1989). I always thought Jenny and Jeff's (as they were dubiously subtitled on my old HK Legends VHS) relationship was somewhat improbable, yet his gutsy drive for redemption in an underworld filled with betrayal and greed is surprisingly touching. Ultimately though, it's that bleak, near-apocalyptic Church-set denouement that brings a tear to the eye. An anti-Hollywood ending if ever there was.
Armageddon (1998) / The Rock (1995)
Michael Bay. Bruce Willis. Ben Affleck. Steve Buscemi. A recipe for tears if ever there was... Yet somehow Armageddon manages to rescue all of this, partly by virtue of Liv Tyler, and of course some meaty special effects. The sheer enthusiastic absurdity of Bay's pre-Pearl Harbour spectacle somehow sidesteps criticism, and catches you unaware at its triumphant conclusion. As Tyler says a final farewell to her awesome Dad, it's weirdly moving given the overwhelmingly daft tone of the movie's whole, and probably Bay's most emotionally affecting scene ever. He did pull a similar trick in The Rock of course. Presumed dead, Stanley Goodspeed (Nic Cage) looks like he's about to be incinerated as his tearful wife looks on, helpless, from a control room. And that following a momentous, swollen presidential speech ("How does one weigh human life") that builds towards a teased emotional wallop. Still, he didn't kill Nic Cage at least. He killed Bruce Willis...
Hachi A Dog's Tale (2009)
I like Richard Gere. I like dogs. It's a family movie starring both Richard Gere and an adorable Akita dog called Hachi. What could go wrong? Well, for the first half not much. Abandoned puppy is saved, and much Gere-puppy bonding ensues. Puppy turns into dog and all is well. Then a totally unexpected sucker punch leads to 45 minutes or so of solid tears. Then, just as you think things may turn around, they just get worse. And as if that wasn't enough, it's a true story! This really happened. Show it to kids at your peril.
The White Diamond (2004)
Werner Herzog's compelling 2004 documentary follows Dr. Graham Dorrington on his adventure to study the rainforest canopy via mini airship. Typically for Herzog the real subjects of the film are the people embarking on this challenge, not the challenge itself. In Dorrington we see a passionate and committed man, with a professional single mindedness about the task at hand, yet when Herzog delves a little deeper we discover a traumatic past. Twelve years earlier, Dorrington's friend plunged to his death whilst on a similar expedition. As the story is recounted first hand, Dorrington's barely restrained grief is deeply affecting. Clearly still reeling inside, there's a horrifying sense that he feels somehow culpable.
The Grey (2011)
Joe Carnahan's superior survival thriller posed as a far dafter film than it actually was. Though there's an undeniable appeal in the prospect of watching Liam Neeson fist fight a wolf, the emotional charge comes from his character's battle to maintain hope in the face of considerable adversity. Ottway's (Neeson) wife encourages him not to be afraid, speaking to him in a dream shortly after the masterfully staged plane crash that leaves him stranded in a way-sub-zero Alaska. It sets the melancholic, portentous tone of what's to come, yet there's no specific moment that stands out as tear-jerking. Rather the whole movie has a cumulative effect, not numbed by the ambiguous denouement that both delivers on the Liam vs wolf premise, whilst offering little salvation other than one's own hope that things turn out well for Ottway.
Butch Cassidy and The Sundance Kid (1968)
As with Gran Torino, this one's about the fate of your heroes. Butch and Sundance aren't the most obvious heroes perhaps; witty, but not entirely smart, bank robbers with a prominent line in messing things up. But they're just so incredibly likeable, not to mention impossibly handsome. The oft talked about freeze-frame ending sees the duo pass into history as monochrome legends, with their implied demise a sorry but inevitable conclusion.
Once Upon A Time In America (1984)
Sergio Leone's epic gangster tale gets my vote for being able to sustain tears throughout a sizeable chunk of it's run time. A momentous, evocative musing on lost youth, the unreliability of memory and the power of mis-perception, all set against an unrivaled realisation of early twentieth century mob culture. Morricone's sad and nostalgic score has much to do with how affecting this movie is, and Leone's stately place allows those moments of childhood bonding in the film's first half to really get under your skin. It's a testament to all involved that no matter how unpleasant Noodles (Robert De Niro) can be, you still feel for him as he confronts the past one last time; an old man trying to unravel a history of half truths.
