I listed some of my favorite French films yesterday. And, you know, I didn’t toss my bouillabaisse. Amazing.

It even got a bit of reaction. Pete Porter, director of the Spokane International Film Festival, asked – in honor of SpIFF’s ongoing Professor’s Series – that I do the same thing for German films.

That’s because the next film in the series is “The Lives of Others,” directed by Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck and winner of the 2007 Oscar for Best Foreign Language film. It will be presented by Brian Clayton and Richard McClelland, professors in Gonzaga University’s philosophy department.

Anyway, here are some German films that I would watch more than once. In some cases, I definitely have.

“Das Boot” (1981, Wolfgang Petersen): I remember when I first read Lothar Buchheim’s 1973 novel, from which Petersen adapted his movie. After all these years, I thought, what new could anyone say about World War II submarines? The book, as well as the movie, surprised me. Both are antidotes to the us-versus-them mood of most WWI movies. The characters aren’t Nazis, not purveyors of evil, but mere sailors fighting for their country against impossible odds. And Petersen’s camera, moving from scenes of off-duty celebration to white-knuckle action, never lets us forget that, but for the whims of fate, they could be us.

“Run Lola Run” (1998, dir. by Tom Tykwer): One of the most adrenaline-charged films ever made, Tykwer’s movie is a look at how even the most innocent decision can affect our future. Not once, not twice but three times Tykwer takes us through what should be nothing more than a simple drug deal. But because – well, stuff happens, you know? – his film becomes literally a question of life and death. Franka Potente (“The Bourne Identity”) plays the title character, a charming loser who, ultimately, finds what she needs to set her life on the right track.

“Downfall” (2004, dir. by Oliver Hirschbiegel): You might not want to spend time in Hitler’s bunker as the final hours of the Third Reich count down. Before watching “Downfall,” I didn’t either. If WWII submarine duty offers little chance for surprises, then what new can be said about Hitler (who is the subject of seemingly every other History Channel program)? Told through the eyes of Hitler’s secretary, Traudi Junge (from her book), we see it all take place – the inexorable fall, Hitler’s tantrums, the preparation for death by the Goebbels family, etc. Bruno Ganz brings something new to his interpretation of Hitler, no mean thing, and Hirschbiegel proves something else: There are no old stories that can’t be seen in a new and interesting way.

“M” (1931, Fritz Lang): “M” stands for murderer, and it’s the brand that Hans Beckett (Peter Lorre) wears, if only symbolically. He’s a child murderer, and as portrayed by the young Lorre (26 at the time) a particularly pathetic one. Long before he gained fame in Hollywood as a director of film noir (“The Big Heat,” “While the City Sleeps”), Lang had been one of Germany’s top filmmakers. Roger Ebert sees “M” as Lang’s indictment of a country that was even then being overrun by Nazis. Whatever the truth of that, “M” stands as a haunting study all its own.

“Wings of Desire” (1987, dir. by Wim Wenders): Wenders and Werner Herzog are two of the names most associated with contemporary German cinema – and have been for more than three decades. Both have had international careers, from Wenders’ “Paris, Texas” to Herzog’s documentary “Grizzly Man,” but nothing either of them has done has been any better than this haunting tale of angels. Bruno Ganz stars as one angel who wants to forsake everything just to experience life as a human. He gives up a lot, but he gains … everything.

“Europa, Europa” (1990, dir. by Agnieszka Holland): Irony has many faces. But the real-life story of Solomon Perel gives irony a whole new meaning. The son of a Jewish shopkeeper, Perel (Marco Hofschneider) survived WWII by posing as a Nazi. Through his indoctrination of a Communist youth to his training as a Nazi youth and beyond, Perel survived from 1938 to 1945 by masking his Jewishness. His most obvious physical weakness: his circumcised penis, which he disguised courtesy of a rubber band. In Holland’s hands, Perel’s story might have been pulled out of a Jerzy Kozinski novel. Only difference: Perel’s story was real.

“Metropolis” (1927, dir. by Fritz Lang): Has there ever been a more influential, and caricatured, movie than Lang’s “Metropolis”? Whether seen in its original back and white or in the various colorized versions, the film’s imagery usually overpowers its silent-film narrative. In fact, I’ve seen the film at least three times and yet I had to check IMDB.com to remember the plot. It has something to do with a separated society, the rich and those who support them, but the film’s importance involve those visuals, which have influenced virtually every sci-fi filmmaker over the past 82 years.

“Triumph of the Will” (1935, dir. by Leni Riefenstahl): Speaking of the battle between imagery and story line, that pretty much sums up the career of Leni Reifenshahl. Usually portrayed as Hitler’s pet filmmaker, Reifenstahl made the might of Nazism look glorious. But no matter how much the meaning of that might seems grotesque, the images were – and remain – magnificent. If ever there was art that served evil, this was it. But art it is.

“Nosferatu” (1922, dir. by F.W. Murnau): Another mightily influential film, this vampire flick – based on, if not credited to, Bram Stoker’s novel “Dracula” – is the granddaddy of all blood-sucker movies. It avoids most of the easy scares of today’s films (even those in such low-budget productions as “Paranormal Activity”), but its images retain their haunting edge. That’s partly because of the zombie-like presence of actor Max Schreck, partly because of how Murnau uses him. Either way, “Nosferatu” showed Hollywood just what a golden egg the vampire film could be.

“Aguirre, Wrath of God” (1972, dir. by Werner Herzog): Last but not least, the one and only Herzog. On the basis of such films as “The Mystery of Kasper Hauser” and “Fitzcarraldo,” his remake of “Nosferatu” and the inexplicable “Even Dwarfs Started Small,” through his more contemporary English-language efforts such as “Grizzly Man” and “Rescue Dawn,” Herzog’s works are strange, bizarre, often confounding but never anything but watchable. That’s especially true for this look at the Spanish explorer Aguirre (Klaus Kinski) and his search for the fabled gold city of El Dorado. Herzog’s film is nothing less than a descent into madness, a trek that Herzog seems obsessed with. No one, though, captures such a descent better.

Volksmarsch, lebensraum und zeitgeist!

Below: The trailer for "Run Lola Run."