https://www.criticker.com/films/?filter=e57205
Danny Peary didn't coin the term, but with his three volumes of Cult Movies, published in 1981, 1983, and 1988, he probably contributed more than anyone to its prominence and the first construction of its 'canon'.
His somewhat purply criteria: "...special films that elicit a fiery passion in moviegoers long after their initial releases; that have been taken to heart as if they were abandoned orphans in a hostile world, cherished, protected, and enthusiastically championed by segments of the movie audience; that are integral parts of people's lives."
While the selection of titles was of course limited and personal and to some degree arbitrary, "evidence" is provided in the form of screening prevalence, rentals by film societies, write-in or other media campaigns, and various isolated phenomena that sometimes beggar belief (did you know Philippe de Broca's King of Hearts headlined for five consecutive years at a theatre in Boston?). Effort is made to place each film in its historical and aesthetic context, as well as in citing the formative work of other writers.
The books are valuable as documents of a certain segment of cinephilia pre-internet; its trends, practices, prejudices. There are only two films directed by women, Dorothy Arzner's Dance, Girl, Dance and Joan Micklin Silver's Chilly Scenes of Winter (aka Head Over Heels), but Peary's appreciations are generous, and it's worth noting their flock has grown more than many other titles in the books. It might be tempting from a present-day perspective to puzzle at the absence of films by, say, Elaine May or Lina Wertmuller, but it was work being a cinephile back then, y'know? Almost everyone missed almost everything.
More conspicuous is the absence of films by or starring Blacks. There is the Jamaican The Harder They Come, which more or less brought reggae to America, but that's it. While a number of American blaxploitation films might have plausibly qualified, it is possible that as a Good Liberal Perry was reluctant to legitimize the sometimes stereotypical portrayals found therein. It had been a dead 'genre' for some years, since producers realized that audiences in Black neighbourhoods were no more likely to support Black films than white ones. And so the money stopped, and outside of mavericks like Jamaa Fanaka and Charles Burnett majority Black films pretty much went away till Spike Lee. All that said, it's plain that Peary made no effort to find out more.
Anyway. Lotta great movies here. Some turkeys. A few ghosts.
I added the titles in alphabetical order but book-by-book, meaning you can order by date-added to see which titles are in the first (100 films), second (50), or third (50) volume.
The director with the most films is Howard Hawks at 5. Kubrick is second with 4.
3
Jacques Tourneur
Nicolas Roeg
Nicholas Ray
John Ford
Orson Welles
George Cukor (including shared credit on The Wizard of Oz)
Alfred Hitchcock
Michael Powell
2
David Lynch
Sam Fuller (with acting roles in two more)
Sam Peckinpah
John Huston
Ed Wood
George Miller
Brian De Palma
George Romero
Martin Scorsese
John Carpenter
Russ Meyer
Monte Hellman
Billy Wilder
Richard Lester