Difficult to call this one – it might be one of the Disney classics – Snow White, Bambi or his masterpiece, Pinocchio, all of which I've seen dozens of times at the cinema, on video with my son and then on DVD with my daughters (repeat viewings is one of the joys of having five children). I look forward to seeing them again with my grandson. Probably, though, The Wizard of Oz is just in the lead. I saw it in the cinema when it was re-issued in the 1960s and have sat through it many times since. It's a practically perfect movie with that Pringle quality – once you pop you can't stop – dip in and you're hooked. And one of the many things that makes it great is that while we'd all like to think we're the Scarecrow, most blokes are a cross between the Tin Man and the Cowardly Lion. And oh, for a winged monkey! Photograph: The Ronald Grant Archive
My favourite film of all time is Sam Peckinpah's The Wild Bunch – I'm addicted to his work, with Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia and the underrated Junior Bonner and Cable Hogue also in my top 10. But I think the best film I've ever seen as far as a perfect combination of screenplay, acting and direction goes has to be Lawrence of Arabia, an astonishing film that gives Citizen Kane a run for its money in the kaledoscopic-approach-to-character stakes as well as being a brilliant Boy's Own adventure. Aqaba by land... Photograph: Ronald Grant Archive
Orson Welles' original first cut of the Magnificent Ambersons. Ditto, Von Stroheim's five-hour version of Greed. And, despite being given the box set, I am still working my way through Ingmar Bergman's oeuvre Photograph: Ronald Grant Archive
My wife and I love horror movies (she's not as keen on cowboy or war films) and I'm still a sucker for the cliched jumping-out-of-the-shadows jolt moments. I also find late 50s/early 60s Hitchcock films unsettling – especially Vertigo and Marnie. It's as if Sir Alfred is trying to drag something hideous out of his subconcious – we sense what it is but thankfully we never quite see it Photograph: Ronald Grant Archive
I've read more bad books than I've seen dodgy movies – after all, most films only take up two hours of your life. Really knuckle-headed comedies irritate me – I still want the 94 minutes of my life back that I wasted watching Van Wilder: Party Liaison. I also have an unnatural aversion to the onscreen presence of Philip Seymour Hoffman Photograph: Ronald Grant Archive
Buster Keaton and Laurel and Hardy are still sure-fire laff generators, and I also find Chaplin funny despite the current prejudice against his genius. Jerry Lewis is a master as well – especially The Patsy and The Bell Boy. And as unlikely double acts go, few turns can top Eddie Murphy and Nick Nolte in 48 Hours Photograph: Ronald Grant Archive
I'm not a big fan of the car chase – too much machine and not enough man – but I love a well-planned and brilliantly executed heist sequence – the train robbery in the Wild Bunch, The Italian Job and Ray Winstone's final job in Sexy Beast. And Sterling Hayden pulling it off in Kubrick's The Killing. There is also always the excitement of the worm turning: a one-armed Spencer Tracey finally snapping and beating Ernest Borgnine to a bloody pulp in A Bad Day at Black Rock is a belter Photograph: Ronald Grant Archive
Like everybody else even thinking about the end of The Railway Children sets me off. That and the prospect of a second viewing of Van Wilder: Party Liaison. And the end of the original All Quiet on the Western Front. And the end of Angels with Dirty Faces – what an actor Cagney was Photograph: Ronald Grant Archive
It all depends what you mean by baddie. General Patton in Lust for Glory, Patrick Swayze in Point Break, that demented geezer who runs Fight Island in Enter the Dragon or maybe even Apollo Creed in Rockys I and II. My wife would quite like me to be a vampire as she has a thing for Dracula, but I am more George Hamilton than Bela Lugosi Photograph: Ronald Grant Archive
Sicily in The Godfather is an amazing backdrop to Michael Corleone's transformation from modern man to traditional Mafioso. Coppola also plays a blinder with the jungle in Apocalypse Now. Outer space in 2001 is also worth an honourable mention Photograph: Ronald Grant Archive
Old school. Dean Martin in Rio Bravo (and what a film that is). Humphrey Bogart in In a Lonely Place (and what a movie that is) Photograph: Ronald Grant Archive
Danny De Vito in Matilda, only slightly taller Photograph: Ronald Grant Archive
