Sorcerer (1977, William Friedkin)

Sorcerer is a cinematic ride for the ages, a thrilling conveyance of survival amidst arduous climatic conditions and inoculated with moments of scepticism and pathos; all juxtaposed brilliantly by Friedkin in his remarkable anxiety inducer.

Based on Le Salaire de la peur, Sorcerer starts in an ambiguous note depicting spectacles of different cities around the world with no apparent familiarity, but as soon as the prologue ceases and the dynamics shift to a remote village, all starts to make sense.

Friedkin puts his set of cynical and doubtful characters in a foreign territory, each endeavouring with their internal conflicts and dilemmas until their paths collide. Sorcerer can be shredded into two halves, the first being a chaotic and apprehending buildup and the other being an exhilarating and even more chaotic and perilous journey.

Like Coppola's towering Apocalypse Now, Socerer is also shot in challenging circumstances, accentuating ambitious scenes of eccentric spine-chiller and unadulterated tension. The anxiety buildup largely owes to the innovative camerawork, which at regular intervals pumps up the audience's adrenaline.

Albeit Sorcerer's prominence lies in its technical facets, what makes it a classic is the exploration of man vs nature through its grime steered characters and ravaging and vicious landscapes, inebriated with an ample dose of pragmatic nihilism.

An inconspicuous work of madness, that only the likes of Herzog or a Carax could pull off.