Each year, the Library of Congress selects 25 American-made films to add to the National Film Registry. The Registry was created by the National Film Preservation Act to preserve films that are “culturally, historically or aesthetically” significant to American culture. The films added by the Library in 2013 range from Depression-era silent films, Hollywood classics, documentaries, and experimental shorts.

“The National Film Registry stands among the finest summations of more than a century of extraordinary American cinema,” said James H. Billington, the Librarian of Congress, in a statement released last month. “This key component of American cultural history, however, is endangered, so we must protect the nation’s matchless film heritage and cinematic creativity.”

In an interesting coincidence, Walt Disney’s 1964 classic “Mary Poppins” was added to the Film Registry just as “Saving Mr. Banks”–a fictionalized account on the production of the film, and the prickly relationship between showman Disney and ‘Poppins’ author P.L. Travers–was released in time for awards season. ‘Poppins’ massive success proved to be a watershed moment for Disney. Previously associated with animated features, Disney proved it could produce live-action family fare as well, receiving the first–and, so far, only–Best Picture nomination for a Disney live-action feature. ‘Poppins’ also proved Disney’s star-making mettle, propelling Julie Andrews–a Broadway vet who was cast in the title role based on her performance in “Camelot”–from virtual unknown status to Best Actress winner. The Oscar was a personal triumph for Andrews who, despite bringing the role of Eliza Dolittle to life in the stage version of “My Fair Lady,” was passed over for the role in the film version in favor of Audrey Hepburn as the producers were concerned of Andrews’ lack of on-screen acting. While “My Fair Lady” ultimately took home the Best Picture award at the 1964 Oscars–indeed was the big winner of the evening–Andrews beat Hepburn, her main competitor, taking home the Best Actress Oscar for her film debut. (Indeed, during her acceptance speech for winning the Golden Globe for Best Actress, Andrews audaciously thanked producer Jack Warner for not casting her in the film version of “My Fair Lady.”) Along with a timeless soundtrack that includes “A Spoonful of Sugar,” “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious” and the Oscar-winning “Chim Chim Chiree” it is clear why “Mary Poppins” has entertained generations of young children, and is undeniably an American classic.

The selection of “Roger and Me” is a bit of bold choice on behalf of the Library of Congress. Michael Moore’s muckraking examination of the negative effects that befall his hometown of Flint, Michigan after the closure of GM auto plants established a template for a new era of documentary film-making. The standard fare for documentaries prior to “Roger” were Disney-style nature films or the cinema verite-style documentaries such as D.A. Pennebaker’s “Don’t Look Back” or Michael Wadleigh’s “Woodstock” which relied on an observant, fly-on-the-wall camera to tell the story. Even when documentaries had a particular message to deliver (political or otherwise) such as 1974’s Vietnam-era treatise “Hearts and Minds” or 1976’s labor discourse “Harlan County USA,” the role of the documentarian was largely placed off-camera, with the filmmaker’s voice provided via interview subjects, selected imagery, and editing choices. By placing himself front and center, Michael Moore established a new role: documentarian-as-star. With an underlying principle of the “personal being political”, Moore uses the lens of Flint’s fate to ostensibly make a film about himself as he seeks answers regarding how a former blue-collar hub of industrial Michigan could be decimated by the whims of faceless corporate executives. “Roger” combines heart-wrenching pathos with biting satire–the “living statues” scene or the scene in which Flint’s mayor heralds the production of lint rollers to cure the town’s ills–what is perhaps the most upsetting aspect of “Roger & Me” was just how utterly prophetic the film is. Let’s not forget, the film predates NAFTA and other successive free-trade agreements, the WTO and the “Battle of Seattle,” and the economic collapse of 2008. Indeed, it seems that Moore has been telling this same story for the past twenty-five years, from “Roger” to “The Big One” to his “The Awful Truth” television show all the way up to 2009’s “Capitalism: A Love Story.” Although it must be frustrating for Moore to continue telling the story of the evisceration of America’s middle class, it’s an important story that needs to be told.

Its hard to believe that its been nearly two decades since Quentin Tarantino’s “Pulp Fiction” exploded onto the public consciousness like a slug from a .45 caliber handgun. Tarantino’s film-making style has been likened to that of a cultural magpie, finding inspiration in the little-seen genre or grindhouse movies that he would suck down as a hyperactive video store clerk. In “Pulp Fiction,” Tarantino’s Cuisinart-blended mix of influences resulted in a new shared cultural experience–indeed, screenings of the film carried an almost electric, party-style atmosphere that would result in enthusiastic whoops and hollers when the movie’s title appeared on the screen, complete with bullet holes. The cultural touchstones introduced by “Fiction” goes a long way to justify its cultural significance despite its stylized hyper-violence, i.e “the five-dollar shake,” “El Royale with cheese” or the wallet that says “bad motherfucker.” “Fiction” also served as a vehicle to jump-start the careers of a handful of movie stars, including John Travolta–one of Tarantino’s idols from the 1970s–who was cast as the long-haired, suave, syringe-plunging Vincent Vega (over producer Harvey Weinstein’s preference of Oscar winner Daniel Day-Lewis.) Bruce Willis was also at a similar low point in his career, as prior to his turn as boxer Butch Coolidge the actor had the recent twin high-profile failures of both “Death Becomes Her” and “Hudson Hawk” sullying any efforts to become an A-list movie star. “Pulp Fiction” set both Travolta and Willis on the trajectory to be two of the biggest movie stars of the following decade. and have Tarantino to thank for that lifeline. “Fiction” established Tarantino has a “name” director and over the ensuing decades he has continued to provide his unique cultural pastiche to such various genres as the samurai revenge film, 70s-era grindhouse thriller, WWII exploitation, and with “Django,” Tarantino proved to be one of a few filmmakers able to make a blockbuster western.

There films only represent a few of the iconic performances selected by the Library of Congress to be entered into the National Film Registry. Also included are Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor’s portrayal of an acrimonious married couple that engage in a booze-fueled argument over an evening in “Who’s Afraid of Virgina Woolf?” which will be forever immortalized with Taylor’s cringe-inducing chicken-eating scene.

Also inducted include 1956’s “Forbidden Planet”–which includes the first performance of Robby the Robot, who would later become one of the main features of the “Lost in Space” television show–1960’s “Magnificent Seven,” a western based on Akira Kurosawa’s “Seven Samurai;” and 1939’s “Midnight,” a Depression-era romantic comedy starring Don Ameche and John Barrymore, co-written by a young Billy Wilder, whose experience having his script changed left such a distaste that he vowed to direct his own screenplays from that point on.

A complete list with all 25 of 2013’s entries into the Library of Congress’s National Film Registry can be found here.