“Truth, beauty, freedom, love.”

Baz Luhrmann’s films are an incendiary bubblegum crossroads, where Italian grand opera, Bollywood, Greek myths and Hollywood Technicolor collide. Growing up in rural Herons Creek, New South Wales, Baz Luhrmann was informed by his father’s profession as a cinema owner and the ballroom dancing he practiced with his mother. In the ‘80s, Luhrmann established himself as an actor on stage and screen. Today, he’s Australia’s most celebrated auteur, an unrivalled master of the romance genre with a distinctive vision. Like Wes Anderson, he successfully toes the line between postmodern pastiche, ironic humour and heartfelt storytelling.

Often co-writing with actor Craig Pearce, thematically, Luhrmann’s tragi-comic screenplays depict the rift between true love and conformity to society’s mores, revolutionary bohemianism versus the conservative establishment, echoing the counterculture of the ‘60s. Whether one’s taken with his unique stylisation or not, the elephantine artistic, literary and technical triumphs of his epics are irrefutable.

He regularly collaborates with actors Nicole Kidman, Leonardo DiCaprio, John Leguizamo, Richard Roxburgh, Bill Hunter and David Wenham. Additionally, his partnerships with cinematographers Mandy Walker and Donald McAlpine have manifested his idiosyncratically camp, maximalist, carnivalesque, saturated rainbow aesthetic. When watching a Luhrmann film, just sighting one of the shots, each as beautiful, thoughtful and fastidiously-crafted as a painting, one’s immediately aware of his hand.

Alongside lavish costumes and vast, studiously-detailed baroque sets (orchestrated by his wife, Catherine Martin), Luhrmann’s films’ soundtracks are an eclectic jukebox gumbo of contemporary and historical popular music. His magical realist universe, where colours pop and the world is heightened to dreamlike impressionism, is as instantly recognisable as Tarantino’s.

One of Luhrmann’s most prominent signatures is his ambitious crane camera pans: cartoonish landscapes rapidly zooming into a character portrait, mixing both photography and CGI. Despite it often being a faux pas in filmmaking, sampling from Alejandro Jodorowsky, Luhrmann’s seamlessly perfected the zoom, noteworthy when swelling dramatic tension in close-ups. There’s a musical timbre, a heartbeat to the kaleidoscopic collaging of his films’ fast cuts. This is attributable to his editor Jill Bilcock, whom he’s been collaborating with since his debut feature in 1992.

In addition to filmmaking, Luhrmann has directed opera, a limited series and the most expensive advert in history for Chanel: No.5 the film with Nicole Kidman (2004), which cost $33 million. Uncontrovertibly, Luhrmann stands as one of the most exciting, talented and original writer-directors working today.

6. Strictly Ballroom (1992)

Based upon his 1984 stage play, Luhrmann’s debut tells the story of Scott Hastings (Paul Mercurio): a champion ballroom dancer with scandalous moves. When his dance partner leaves him for a champion, Scott reluctantly partners with the shy Fran (Tara Morice). They face disapproval from the Australian Dance Federation as they practice for the Pan-Pacific Grand Prix Dancing Championship.

Boring, shallow, unoriginal and corny, it’s baffling a film this pointless and heartless even exists. Even for fans of ballroom dancing, its predictable screenplay and Paul Mercurio’s painfully cringeworthy ‘acting’ renders its generic ugly duckling story essentially unwatchable. The protagonist is condescending and nasty towards his leading lady. He doesn’t consider her attractive enough for his standards.

This results in a repulsively unlikeable main character, with more villainous than heroic traits. With his snobbery leaving the audiences with a bitter taste in their mouths, he fails to obtain emotional investment – disastrous in a protagonist. This denotes Luhrmann’s lack of screenwriting knowledge at this juncture, to be expected at the birth of his filmmaking career.

The supporting characters are just as vapid and underdeveloped. Even Bill Hunter and Pat Thompson’s well-crafted caricatures are not enough to save this disastrous waste of time, which merely rips-off superior titles like Footloose or Dirty Dancing.

The first instalment of the ‘Red Curtain Trilogy’ does, however, foreshadow all the themes, vivacious camera movements (such as Leone-esque portrait zoom-ins), the glitzy, Almodóvar-inspired production design and fluid, musical editing he’d go on to refine later. Regardless, this time-robbing misstep is an embarrassment to Luhrmann’s otherwise celebrated career and must be avoided at all costs. A 5-minute instructional dance video would’ve been a more enjoyable and appropriate format than an hour and a half of meaningless, vacuous indulgence in style over substance and unpleasant, forgettable characters.

5. Australia (2008)

“Just because it is, doesn’t mean it should be.”

In this meat pie western meets World War 2 romance, English aristocrat Lady Sarah Ashley (Nicole Kidman) must drive a herd of cattle with a cowboy known as The Drover (Hugh Jackman) across the outback to Darwin. Meanwhile, they’re threatened by the villainous cattle baron King Carney (Bryan Brown) and his henchmen. Later, the pair must rescue their young friend, Nullah (Brandon Walters), after he’s deported to an island. Showcasing Australia’s finest acting legends, there are performances from David Gupilil, Bill Hunter and Killing Them Softly’s Ben Mendlesohn.

Australia is an important film for addressing the Stolen Generations, where mixed-race children were confiscated from their families by the government. Moreover, the screenplay deals with the tyranny of British colonialism and the impact this has had on the lives of Aboriginals. It promotes friendship, discussion and resolution between European and Indigenous cultures, though, at times, it could be criticised for exercising the ‘white saviour’ trope. Mandy Walker’s mystical shots of the photogenic David Gupilil as a shaman in the outback comprises the film’s aesthetic richness, referencing Emmanuel Lubezki.

In a tonal departure, Luhrmann successfully turns his hand to action sequences: both in the air and on terrain. He crafts one of cinema’s most-suspenseful scenes, where a herd of cattle charge at Nullah, whilst he’s perched on the promontory of a cliff. Despite being only 12 at the time of the film’s release, Brandon Walters effortlessly carries the film with his naturalistic talent, humour and star quality, matching or surpassing the aptitude of Kidman and Jackman. Furthermore, Australia’s soundtrack is especially notable, making use of didgeridoo, wobble board and jaw harp for an appropriately regional sound.

On the other hand, at nearly 3 hours in duration, Australia is unequivocally over-long for its minimal content. This sprawl is exasperated by its slow plot progression, overly spacious scenes and slightly aimless narrative, when judged against Luhrmann’s more exciting triumphs. Its plot is an unoriginal, derivative rehash of superior classic westerns. What is more, Kidman and Jackman have poor chemistry. With their affection feeling forced and nonexistent, it’s unbelievable that they could conceivably engage in a tryst, upending the credibility of the entire film. The screenplay paints their interactions as hammy, undeveloped and insubstantial, making for further dramatic detraction. There must be electricity between the two leads and a palpable connection in the writing for an epic romance to shine. Although Australia is a good film, overall, Luhrmann fails to hit his target.

4. Elvis (2022)

With nearly a decade since his last film, Luhrmann returned to the screen with a biopic of epochal rock ‘n’ roll singer Elvis Presley. Focusing on Elvis’s relationship with his manager Colonel Tom Parker, the film chronicles the star’s childhood, through the genesis of his career at Sun Records in the mid-‘50s, all the way up until his death in 1977. Once Upon a Time… in Hollywood’s Austin Butler plays the titular role, with Tom Hanks as Colonel Tom Parker.

Butler spent two years perfecting his performance, vocals and dance moves, studying Elvis intensely. His insurmountable effort clearly paid-off. With pitch-perfect singing and acting, he thoroughly “melds himself with Elvis’s spirit,” in what is one of the most monumental acting achievements of the 21st century. The script offers a tearjerking, in-depth exposé of the tragic exploitation of a humungous talent, analysing the American Dream.

Drawing upon Luhrmann’s countercultural concerns, the film’s most explosive, affecting moment is when Elvis’s popularity skyrockets at the Louisiana Hayride concert. Luhrmann expertly evokes the gravitas, rebellion and cultural revolution that that event incurred, elevated by the punchy, powerful quality of its sound design. Not only serving the narrative, it aids in the audience’s understanding of Elvis’s indelible artistic and historical significance.

However, Luhrmann overuses montage in the film’s first act. Although it’s an understandable technique in such a storied career, it makes for a disengaging narrative, resembling a documentary or an encyclopedia more than a movie. What is more, when the montage does end, Luhrmann’s propensity for fast cuts doesn’t provide the actors with enough time or space to engage in dramatic, conversational scenes, suffering from the overcrowding common in many biopics.

Luhrmann has stated himself that his intention with the film was to use Elvis as a metaphorical catalyst for social change between ‘50s and ‘70s America. Although some aspects of Elvis’s personality are explored, such as his gospel church spirituality, it’s evident that Luhrmann is not that interested in Elvis as a person. A character study of his intimate personality, from his sense of humour, to his interior life, to his passions, such as karate, are forsaken in favour of a depiction of him as a mythical pop totem.

In addition, the glittery, grandiose production design, placing it in the heightened, pastiched universe of Luhrmann’s other films, at times, feels out of place in Elvis. It plays like a great Baz Luhrmann flick, but in retrospect, his signature stylisation slightly blurs the communication of the verisimilitude of Elvis’s true story, the magical realism playing as somewhat inappropriate to the tragedy. Tom Hanks was also clearly miscast, his accent an embarrassing, subpar impression of a

German rather than a Dutch man. His prosthetics are obvious and appear ridiculous on him, further detracting from the film’s dramatic reality. His role would’ve been far better suited to an actual, accomplished Dutch actor with a comparable appearance to Parker’s.

The 2000s were without a doubt an explosive halcyon for comedies, with Will Ferell reigning as the heavyweight champion. Every year of the decade was jam-packed with iconic classics from the Frat Pack, the Apatow Mafia, the Farrelly Brothers, Mike Myers, Todd Philips and Adam McKay, to name a few. That said, many other seminal comedies from this decade have swept under the radar, been unfairly criticised or remain beloved by a cult following.

1. Bubba Ho-Tep (Don Coscarelli, 2002)

An invalid claiming to be Elvis Presley (Bruce Campbell) and an African American man who believes he’s JFK (Ossie Davis) must save their nursing home from a reanimated ancient Egyptian mummy they call ‘Bubba Ho-tep’ (Bob Ivy). This alternate history monster-comedy’s based on the novella by Joe R. Lansdale.

In what Roger Ebert described as “delightful wackiness,” Bubba Ho-Tep excels in drama, horror and comedy equally, creating a unique fantasy mythology unto itself. The Evil Dead’s Bruce Campbell is as flawlessly believable as Elvis as Austin Butler is in the most-recent biopic. It’s clearly a part Campbell was born to inhabit. However, the late Ossie Davis boasts the film’s funniest lines, in his stalwart assertion he’s definitely JFK. The irony of the movie’s premise and the elderly people’s parody-action sequences are balanced with an ominous tone, moody lighting and terrifyingly-realistic Egyptian mummy.

For all its silliness and pop culture pastiche, Bubba Ho-Tep is a tear-jerking drama about ageing and coming to terms with one’s own mortality. Moreover, it addresses the neglect and disrespect society has for the elderly. It calls for reform in both the healthcare system and a reassessment of our own prejudices towards and treatment of older people. The unusual, rare gem that is Bubba Ho-Tep is a dream for those whom enjoy horror-comedies, as well as rewarding those in-search of something with substance and message.

2. The Triplets of Belleville (Sylvain Chomet, 2003)

In this French animated epic noir, Madame Souza must rescue her cyclist grandson, Champion, after he’s kidnapped by French mobsters and transported overseas. Madame Souza’s aided by a family of eccentric triplets who used to be famous singers.

Although a deeply disturbing movie, The Triplets of Belleville resurrects the form of silent, physical and behavioural humour from the days of Buster Keaton, for bizarrely hilarious results. Its magical-realist caricatures and settings are jaw-dropping in their mammoth scope, inventiveness and detail. The story’s a classic mystery-action-adventure, executed with optimal suspense.

With essentially no dialogue, much of its humour is located in the accentuated characters and their movements. A man who looks like Django Reinhardt plucks a guitar with his toes. The triplets use a vacuum cleaner and a fridge as musical instruments. A grinning waiter has his back literally ‘bent over backwards,’ with his nose in the air. This marvellously strange film is a must-watch off-beat comedy, providing audiences with French animation at its most engrossing and ingeniously crafted.

3. Wake Up, Ron Burgundy: The Lost Movie (Adam McKay, 2004)

Complied from Anchorman outtakes, the story of the similarly-plotted Wake Up, Ron Burgundy runs in-parallel to the original film. It concerns Ron Burgundy (Will Ferrell), Veronica Corningstone (Christina Applegate) and the news team as they investigate a gang of anarchist bank robbers calling themselves ‘The Alarm Clock.’

For fans of Ferrell and the Frat Pack, this film guarantees more sidesplitting material – gems which didn’t make it into Anchorman. The story’s taken in a more crime-action direction than its parent. Imperatively, the sketches and gags are just as funny, with highlights including Ron staring at Veronica whilst driving for an extended scene, never looking at the road, ignoring her desperation. The high level of comedy remains present in the dialogue: “even a blind man and his pet Japanese devil owl can find true happiness in this world we live in.”

At the same time, the subtext continues to examine the theme of sexism in the workplace, engendered by Applegate’s progressive, confident performance. In addition to the regular gang, there are new characters, such as ‘Jess Moondragon’ (Chad Everett), a scene-stealing cameo from Amy Poehler and SNL legend Maya Rudolph in an early role. Perhaps because the film was released direct-to-video, it’s gone essentially unnoticed. Although not as triumphant and fluid as Anchorman, is stands as an intensely funny caper in its own right.

4. I Heart Huckabees (David O. Russel, 2004)

In this philosophical protest film, a pair of “existential detectives” (Dustin Hoffman, Lily Tomlin) are hired to uncover the meanings of their clients’ lives (Jason Schwartzman, Mark Wahlberg, Naomi Watts, Jude Law), whilst being infiltrated by a nihilist (Isabelle Huppert). Meanwhile, Albert (Schwartzman) is on a crusade to save the environment. The film marks the acting debut of Jonah Hill.

Whereas other writers tend to integrate philosophy in the subtext or moral of their story, in I Heart Huckabees, David O. Russel explores existentialism and nihilism on-the-nose. The satirical work by Jude Law and Naomi Watts demonstrates how one’s perception is transformed when one begins to question and analyse the flaws in the establishment. This showcases the liberating yet overwhelming outcome of a mind stripped from the mental bondage of societal indoctrination. Through its dramatisation of existentialist and nihilist philosophies, the film forces audiences to identify the façade of conformity and to think for themselves.

What is more, the screenplay criticises the capitalist prevailing culture of the west, detailing how exponential industrial expansion will result in the destruction of the environment and the ruin of humanity. Schwartzman depicts the struggle of Albert thanklessly attempting to save a hostile world oblivious to global warming. People hate him for upending societal norms, despite his earnest mission to help them, mirroring the contemporary political climate. There exists a larger denotation of how human society must transform, physically, culturally and psychologically, if the human race is to survive. Much of I Heart Huckabees’s comedy is focalised around the absurdity of Albert and Tommy grappling with philosophical concepts, such as when they slam bouncy balls in each-other’s faces.

5. You, Me & Dupree (Anthony & Joe Russo, 2006)

After getting married, Carl (Matt Dillon) and Molly Peterson (Kate Hudson) move into their beautiful new home. Almost immediately, Carl’s best friend, a loveable slacker named Dupree (Owen Wilson), comes to stay for a “few days,” until he can secure a job and a residence. But disaster follows Dupree like a shadow and his calamities turn Carl and Molly’s lives upside-down.

You, Me & Dupree has been misunderstood as a buddy comedy with a heartfelt countercultural message of self-actualisation. Although he’s a hippie with no money, no residence, no job, a proud slacker lifestyle and an apathy to securing work, Dupree’s character arc functions as a beacon of comfort and inspiration to those whom are unemployed or struggling to get ahead in life. His free-wheeling authenticity, kind heart, self-belief and resilience (Owen Wilson based Dupree on “a dog I had as a kid”) compels viewers to accept and love themselves for who they are, in spite of their flaws and the criticisms of others.

Dupree’s philosophy of “-ness”: “it’s your name plus ‘-ness,’” talks of recognising what makes oneself special and unique and celebrating it. His use of this holistic belief serves as an example of positive evolution in himself and he demonstrates tremendous compassion towards others. Overlooking his clumsy and ditzy propensities, there is much to learn from and admire in Dupree. This is attributable to the fun-loving, easygoing mien comedy icon Owen Wilson expertly imbued him with, supported by the proficient foundation in Dillon and Hudson.

Furthermore, the movie was the first feature Bill Hader appeared in and co-stars Seth Rogen and the late Harry Dean Stanton. Aside from its well-executed physical mishap comedy, the script professes a voluminous amount of hilarious dialogue. When his father-in-law, Mr. Thompson, suggests that he should get a vasectomy, Carl asks Dupree: “would you be offended if Thompson asked you to get a vasectomy?”, to which Dupree exclaims: “What? Why would he want me to get a vasectomy, Carl? I barely know the man!”

Few people would consider 2022 a bad year for movies. It might not stand tall as one of the greatest in recent memory, but it certainly delivered in a lot of areas. That being said, there will always be disappointments when you’re a movie fan. It’s easy to get excited about the latest blockbusters or the next big Oscar contender, and as a result, not everything is always going to fall into place.

This article will discuss the ten most disappointing movies of the year. Instead of focusing solely on big blockbusters, we’re going to look at a wide array of movies. Anything that had solid potential is fair game.

As always, if a movie didn’t show much promise to begin with, it will be excluded from this list. Morbius, for example, never seemed destined for greatness, so its low quality was hardly surprising. While there is definitely going to be variance when it comes to just how disappointing each film on this list is, the entries have nevertheless earned their spots.

1. Blonde

Over sixty years after her death, Marilyn Monroe continues to be one of the most fascinating celebrities. Her ups and downs have been documented by countless people, leading to a staggering number of works about her. Some of these works, like My Week with Marilyn, provide a sensitive, introspective look into the pop culture icon’s life. Andrew Dominik’s Blonde does no such thing.

Blonde is a misguided, exploitative insult to Monroe’s legacy. Even if we accept the fact that it’s a heavily fictionalized account of her life, it still comes off as an insulting mess of a movie. There isn’t a nice way to say it; Blonde is irredeemable.

For one, it paints Monroe as a battered, emotionally unstable ditz, but that’s not enough. It delights in showing her going through hell for nearly three hours. This version of Monroe is beaten, raped, emotionally manipulated, and basically everything else under the sun. The utter lack of subtlety means that audiences have to watch it all unfold in the most melodramatic way possible. It’s not a sensitive portrait of one of the world’s most influential figures; it’s a shameless, borderline misogynist, slice of torture porn.

Even if this was about a fictional character, it still wouldn’t be worth watching. It’s not fun to watch someone get abused on-and-off for multiple hours. It’s even less fun when the screenplay fails to say anything substantial.

A lot of films on this list are okay to sit through during a rainy afternoon. They’re not great movies, but they’re technically fine. Blonde, on the other hand, should be avoided at all costs. It’s an insipid, amateurish piece of filmmaking that should be buried alongside the worst Netflix original films.

2. Empire of Light

Early Oscar predictions labeled Empire of Light a potential Best Picture contender prior to its release, and it’s easy to see why. Mendes’s last film, 1917, picked up ten Oscar nominations, including Best Picture. On top of that, Olivia Colman has consistently found a way to be the secret ingredient to Oscar success. When you factor in big names like Roger Deakins and Trent Reznor, it’s no wonder why so many people assumed Empire of Light would be such a knock-out.

Unfortunately, Mendes is not as good of a writer as he is a director. Empire of Light looks and sounds great, but it’s a muddled assortment of ideas that rarely develop into anything meaningful. There’s simply too much going on in this half-hearted period drama, and because Mendes fails to adequately address anything fully, viewers never have the opportunity to dig deeper.

It’s a romance movie. It’s a meditation on race relations. It’s a movie about movies. It’s a lot of things, and that’s its ultimate downfall. Maybe Empire of Light would have worked as a miniseries, but as a sub-two-hour movie, it’s frustratingly unfocused. Academy Award voters seem to agree, as it only managed to garner one measly nomination.

3. Thor: Love & Thunder

The Marvel Cinematic Universe is at its best when it brings on directors with clear, creative visions. That explains why Thor: The Dark World and Thor: Ragnarok received such wildly different reviews. Thor: The Dark World was a generic fantasy flick with a forgettable villain, while Thor: Ragnarok was an idiosyncratic action-comedy with likable characters and distinct visuals. Taika Watiti managed to bring his signature style to the MCU, and he gave viewers one of the best films in the massive franchise.

Thor: Love & Thunder is an anomaly. Watiti may remain in the director’s chair, but the film still lacks the magic of better Marvel movies. Although it has Watiti’s quick-witted humor and quirky characters, the storytelling is sorely lacking.

The MCU has always had a villain problem, and unfortunately, Love & Thunder continues that. As great as Bale can be, his appearance as Gorr the God Butcher feels like a total waste. The audience gets so little time to care about the character that the epic climax ultimately feels like a waste. When you consider the fact that nearly everything else is just as underdeveloped, you begin to wonder if Marvel is losing its touch.

4. Amsterdam

Controversy aside, David O. Russell has proven to be an incredibly competent director throughout the years. His ability to get game-changing performances out of talented actors shouldn’t go unnoticed. It has, after all, resulted in a plethora of Oscar nominated roles.

At the same time, the director has always had issues when it comes to telling streamlined stories. American Hustle may have featured a stellar cast, but it also featured an overstuffed narrative filled with far too many tangled webs. It proved to be a worthwhile crime movie, but its lack of focus didn’t go unnoticed.

Amsterdam, David O. Russell’s first feature length film in seven years, features everything that makes the director’s work divisive. As always, you’ll find an A-list cast, but alongside that A-list cast is miserably zigzaggy writing featuring unlikable, borderline cartoonish characters. The cast tries to make an impact, but with such a sloppy screenplay, they’re fighting an uphill battle.

It’s hard to figure out who Amsterdam is supposed to appeal to. Even O. Russell’s defenders will have a hard time finding anything worthwhile. It’s not offensively terrible, but it’s overloaded with wasted potential.

5. Jurassic World: Dominion

Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom may have earned tepid, if not outright negative, reviews, but that didn’t stop the enthusiasm for the latest entry in the series. As always fans of the franchise wanted to dub Fallen Kingdom a fluke, but unfortunately, Dominion is about as worthwhile as the previous film. Sure, it may reunite Colin Trevorrow and an all-star cast, but it’s still an overstuffed, unoriginal summer blockbuster.

Beyond the fact that certain plot points just don’t make sense, the most recent entry in the Jurassic World series suffers because it’s so uninspired and vapid. The characters behave like robots, the storytelling mindlessly checks off checkmarks, and the massive setpieces fail to stand out. The magic is gone, and hopefully a hiatus will allow this franchise to recover.

The 2010s was the decade that could arguably be the beginning of “The Future”: technological advancements ensured a cell phone in every pocket and a hi-def screen in every room. The world became an instantaneous global network that runs 24/7 and is immediately accessible by anyone with the right gear. It was the beginning of the next chapter of human history.

As it functions, science fiction stories take the anxieties, hopes, and fears of its time and project them into speculative possibilities: what if you could create a virtual companion? What if you could make yourself younger? What if Superman became the villain?

The films on this list weren’t hits – in fact, some of them were dismissed outright by critics and audiences alike. But these films are reflections of the sort of anxieties and concerns people had in that turbulent decade as technology meshed even closer to the fabric of reality, leaving us as users and components – and how that may not be the best outcome for human beings. Touching on mortality, technophobia, corporate hegemony, and sometimes just telling a good story, here are 10 great 2010s sci-fi films that you may have missed but are worth a watch.

1. Auggie (2019)

Recent retiree Felix (played by character actor Richard Kind) finds his new situation lacking. With his wife consumed by her career and his daughter her relationship, he is also lonely. Using a retirement gift of a pair of augmented reality glasses that allow him to talk to a virtual companion that was created from his subconscious, Felix’s new companion is a young and charming female named Auggie that quickly becomes his closest companion.

Running along similar themes as Her, Kind’s performance brings a dimension of obsolescence – forced into retirement, he finds his life has stopped without his consent. Instead of feeling lost, Auggie becomes a reflection of his own thoughts, fears, and desires, and through their relationship Felix discovers himself.

The really heady ideas also begin to reveal themselves – on whether technology like this is good or bad, how people can quickly accept what should be an alien concept into their everyday life, and how our relationship to technology as we head into the future may begin to blur the lines between illusion and tangible. It is also a reflection of the meta relationships people have begun to gravitate towards through social media and the internet rather than spending time in meatspace.

At a brisk 81 minutes, Auggie is a thought-provoking sci-fi film that takes a look at how the intimate inner desires of a person could manifest itself via technology – and how someone may react to such a seemingly impossible idea. Would you be horrified or make friends with it? Auggie explores this concept with a surprising amount of sensitivity that you may find some of yourself in, as well.

2. Empathy, Inc (2019)

Joel is a down-on-his-luck businessman who invests in a high-tech start-up called Empathy, Inc. The company claims to have developed a revolutionary technology that enables users to experience the lives of others through a virtual reality simulation, but Joel becomes embroiled in a web of deceit and corruption as he tries to unravel the truth behind the company and its founder, the charismatic but dangerous figure.

This sci-fi film explores the dark side of human nature and the consequences of greed and ambition. Not ground-breaking territory but any premise can be carried by how the story is told. Empathy, Inc is a thought-provoking commentary on society’s obsession with technology and the dangers that come with blurring the line between what is real and what is not.

The film succeeds in its ability to create a sense of tension and unease as Joel uncovers the dark secrets of Empathy, Inc. and builds suspense effectively, and the audience is kept guessing until the very end.
Shot in monochrome, the stylistics of the film also add to its mood; strange to see a sci-fi film in black and white, which gives it a noir-like quality that adds to the sense of intrigue and danger.

A compelling sci-fi film that is well worth watching, Empathy, Inc raises thought-provoking questions about the nature of reality and the consequences of our actions. A cautionary tale about the dangers of unchecked ambition, it speaks to the need for empathy and understanding in modern society. Gripping and engaging, it’s an underrated sci-fi film that will leave audiences thinking about their own empathy.

3. Brightburn (2019)

Every kid Brandon Breyer discovers he possesses superhuman powers. However, as he grows older, Brandon’s powers begin to corrupt him, and he becomes a malevolent force intent on wreaking havoc on the world.

Brightburn takes the familiar tropes of the superhero genre and turns them on their head, presenting a dark and disturbing alternative to the more traditional superhero narrative. Instead of birthing a superhero, what if super powers created a villain?

The film’s most significant strength is its willingness to explore complex moral questions about the nature of power and the responsibilities that come with it. That its protagonist is a villain provides a more interesting character than your regular movie superhero, especially when their motive is not particularly heroic. Thought-provoking questions about the ethics of vigilante justice and the limits of empathy and compassion are explored through this darkened lens.

Brightburn is a thrilling and thought-provoking sci-fi horror film worth watching that deviates from the now-staid superhero format. Its subversion of this genre, it strong performances, and its impressive visual effects make Brightburn an engaging and entertaining movie that will leave audiences on the edge of their seats. The film’s exploration of complex moral questions also elevates it above many of its contemporaries, making it a must-watch for fans of the superhero genre.

4. Realive (2017)

Marc is a young man diagnosed with a terminal illness and decides to undergo a radical medical procedure that will allow him to be cryogenically frozen until a cure can be found. He awakes in 2084 as the first cryogenically frozen man to be resurrected. However, the moral and ethical implications of his decision begin to eat away at him as Marc realizes being alive is not the same as feeling alive.

Realive is a 2017 science fiction film that explores the concept of immortality and what it means to be human. The film’s exploration of the ethical and philosophical implications of immortality is one of its greatest strengths and a unique yet humane vision. It raises thought-provoking questions about the nature of life and death, the limits of human understanding, and how we value our lives.

Tom Hughes plays Marc and carries the film on his shoulders through a nuanced and emotional portrayal of a man out of time and place who questions the value of what he has done.

Realive benefits from a strong script that balances its philosophical themes with compelling character development and engaging storytelling. The movie’s pacing is excellent, and it manages to maintain a sense of tension and suspense throughout.

A captivating and thought-provoking sci-fi film worth the time, Realive’s exploration of the concept of immortality and its compelling, uncommon story make it a standout underseen sci-fi film. A powerful meditation on what it means to be human, alive, and understanding why it matters are sure to resonate with audiences of the 21st century.

5. What Happened To Monday (2017)

In a dystopian future in which families are only allowed to have one child due to the earth’s dwindling resources, a family has septuplets and must go to great lengths to keep their children hidden from the government. The solution is to present the seven children as one person, which they carry through their lives into adulthood. This presents a number of problems, both internally and externally, as the seven sisters (named after the day of the week in which they can be the “public” sister) begin to chafe against years of isolation and having to share the same life.

Noomi Rapace delivers a standout performance, playing each of the septuplets while keeping them separate characters. The constant fear of being found out, and put into ‘cryosleep’ until the population is reduced, is a similarly jarring authoritarian concept and one that informs the decisions of each ‘separate’ sister. When one of the sisters doesn’t return after her day, tensions build as the sisters become actively investigated by the Child Allocation Bureau. But the uglier truths of this world are the greatest shock of all.

What Happened To Monday’s explorations of complex moral questions about government control and individual freedom raises thought-provoking questions about the ethics of population control and the balance between individual rights and the greater good. Moreso, it explores the psychological and social effects of losing one’s identity by force and having to present a false front for survival.

Action films tend to stick to a formula: the protagonist is either an underdog everyman that gains strength and eventually beats their enemy, or they’re already heroes that continue on with their action-packed lives. More often than not, it’s good versus evil with good winning in the end. Action movies that stick to the formula have a better chance at finding an audience due to its familiarity while critical success follows similarly.

The action genre is not known for experimenting with its format. Action films also tend not to be viewed as art but a piece of entertainment at best and a commodity at worst. When an action film comes along that plays with the genre’s conventions, mixes in other genres, and doesn’t provide the clear-cut good guy/bad guy dynamic, audiences stay away and critics don’t know what to make of it.

With this in mind, here are 10 of the most underrated action films that were released in the 2010s. Each one brings a unique take on the action genre and presents a different vision than your standard action film. Even if overlooked in that decade, the films remain as singular and strong as the day they were released to indifferent audiences and critics.

1. The Book of Eli (2010)

The Book of Eli is a 2010 post-apocalyptic action film that tells the story of Eli (Denzel Washington), a man traveling across a desolate wasteland to deliver a book that he believes can save humanity. Directed by the Hughes Brothers, it received mixed reviews upon its release but has since gained a cult following. Worthy of rediscovery, this film is more than just your standard action flick.

The film differs from other films in the post-apocalyptic genre, in which deeper themes of faith, morality, and the power of knowledge are explored rather than just fighting mindless zombies. Eli’s mission to protect the book is not just about physical survival, but preserving something greater than himself and his immediate needs.

But what truly elevates The Book of Eli is the performance of Denzel Washington in the lead role. Washington brings a quiet intensity to the character of Eli, conveying a sense of determination and purpose through his actions rather than his words. The film also features strong supporting performances from Gary Oldman as the villainous Carnegie and Mila Kunis as a young woman who joins Eli on his journey.

An underrated action film, The Book of Eli offers a unique take on the post-apocalyptic genre, exploring deeper themes of faith and knowledge rather than providing mindless action sequences.

2. The Losers (2010)

An elite team of elite operatives are betrayed and left for dead during a mission in Bolivia. With the help of a mysterious woman (played by Zoe Saldana), the team sets out to seek revenge against the man who betrayed them, a powerful and ruthless CIA agent named Max (Jason Patric). Along the way, they face numerous obstacles and challenges as they try to stay one step ahead of Max and his army of mercenaries.

Overlooked by audiences and critics alike, The Losers has a lot going for it: boasting an outstanding cast, including Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Chris Evans, and Idris Elba, each actor brings their A-game, infusing their characters with wit, charm, and charisma. The chemistry between the actors is palpable, making their banter and camaraderie one of the highlights of the film.

The Losers is packed with adrenaline-pumping set pieces that are expertly choreographed and executed. From car chases to shootouts, the action never lets up, and the pacing is spot-on. The film also has a playful and inventive approach to action, with scenes that are both over-the-top and hilarious.

The film never takes itself too seriously and has fun with the genre conventions. The script is witty and clever, with plenty of one-liners and zingers that keep the audiences entertained. With its impressive cast, thrilling action sequences, and sense of humor, the film is a fun and enjoyable ride from start to finish.

3. Sanctum (2011)

A team of underwater cave divers become trapped in an unexplored cave system after a storm. As they struggle to find a way out, tensions rise, and the team must rely on their skills and each other to survive. Despite its impressive visuals and gripping storyline, Sanctum received mixed reviews and was largely overlooked by audiences.

Which is unfortunate, as Sanctum is a masterclass in visual storytelling. The film’s stunning cinematography, which captures the dark and eerie underwater cave environment, is breathtaking. The tight and claustrophobic setting adds to the tension and danger of the situation, making every moment feel like a fight for survival. The film’s use of lighting and sound is also impressive, creating a sense of foreboding and unease throughout.

Sanctum’s portrayal of the dangers of cave diving and its realistic approach to the sport and its potential hazards, including equipment failures, water currents, and lack of oxygen, is viscerally terrifying and keeps the viewer in suspense throughout. This works hand-in-hand with the characters in the film. Unlike many action films, the characters in Sanctum are fleshed out and multi-dimensional, making their struggles and triumphs all the more impactful. An intense and thought-provoking action-thriller, Sanctum is definitely worth a watch.

4. Raze (2014)

A group of women are abducted and forced to fight each other to the death in an underground arena. Talk about brutal! The premise of Raze didn’t garner many favorable reviews and audiences similarly avoided it. Too bad: it’s a hidden gem and an extremely unique action film.

Women aren’t particularly prominent in lead roles in action films, and even fewer action movies have a majority female cast. Raze explores the theme of female empowerment and challenges gender stereotypes and expectations, portraying its female characters as strong and capable fighters who refuse to be victimized. Raze also raises (no pun intended) thought-provoking questions about the nature of violence and the limits of personal agency.

Perhaps there is one aspect that kept critics from appreciating the film: its brutal fight scenes between women. It’s an unusual visual and even more rare as a main feature in a film. But Raze’s fight choreography is expertly crafted, with each blow and strike coming across as raw and impactful. The fights are brutal and unrelenting but also well-executed and thrilling.

Gritty, ferocious, and confrontational, Raze refuses to shy away from its darker and more disturbing themes and its refusal to cater to mainstream expectations makes it a refreshing and subversive addition to the action genre.

5. Aftermath (2012)

After an event known as the “Day of Chaos,” nine strangers are forced to take shelter in a farmhouse after a nuclear attack. As they struggle to survive in the aftermath of the disaster, tensions rise and secrets are revealed, leading to a gripping and intense climax. Perhaps American culture was feeling post-apocalypse fatigue by 2012, but Aftermath was given a lukewarm reception by critics while audiences stayed away.

Unfortunate because it’s a solid entry into the post-apocalyptic action genre. The film’s strength lies in its ability to create a sense of claustrophobia and isolation. The farmhouse becomes a microcosm of the world outside, where survival becomes the only goal, and trust is a scarce commodity.

As characters succumb to radiation sickness, suffer betrayal at each other’s hands, and resources dwindling, the film’s pacing and intimate setting leaves it at a simmer, punctuated by bursts of action and drama. Perhaps due to the bleak nature of the film, it may not be to everyone’s taste (think The Day After but with more action sequences). But for an indie sci-fi action thriller that creates and sustains a tense atmosphere throughout, Aftermath shouldn’t be an afterthought when seeking out a unique action genre picture.

A constant throughout Hollywood history, heist movies almost always sort neatly into one of two categories: 1) a seasoned criminal needs to pull one more dangerous job in order to retire, and 2) a group of amateurs gets greedy and attempts a job they have no business pulling off. The beats are as consistent as a rom com: group meets cute with dangerous job, group plans job through technical exposition and montages, complication arises just before job, group nearly breaks up in the face of adversity, everything falls apart or everyone gets rich. Most heist movies are incredibly predictable, and even if they throw some little wrinkle in there (think The Lookout in which Joseph Gordon-Levitt suffers from memory issues), it’s not enough to overcome the rote quality of such a well-worn form.

But when lightning strikes and the right director finds the right project, heist films are capsules of movie magic.

In the first few years of the 21st century, auteurs like Steven Soderbergh and the late Fabián Bielinsky defined what was possible for a contemporary heist movie. Soderbergh’s highly stylized and comedically inclined Ocean’s diptych displayed the roadmap for directors interested in the technical bits of a complicated robbery. Meanwhile, before his premature death Bielinsky’s two films were exemplars in the possibilities of heists as social commentaries and character studies. The films in the eclectic list below attempt to enliven elements of both Soderbergh’s technicality and Bielinsky’s cutting compassion. The best of them embody both.

10. The Aura (Fabián Bielinsky, 2005)

The Aura is the inferior of Fabián Bielinsky’s two attempts, but it’s still a marvel. Following up his beloved debut was always to be a brutal task. That he chose to double dip in the heist subgenre only added to the level of difficulty, but the commonalities between Bielinsky’s two projects end at the obvious: both are heist films starring Ricardo Darin. Where Nine Queens is agile and urban, The Aura, is plodding and isolated. Where Nine Queens poses questions of intellectual athleticism, of whether you can keep up in a world full of quick witted conmen, The Aura enquires about courage and endurance. How long can you keep your nerve while walking alone in the dark and watchful forest?

Darin subtly plays an epileptic taxidermist mired in a midlife crisis. When his wife leaves him, he follows a friend to a remote hunting lodge in the foothills of the Andes. An accident on the trip unfurls an unforeseen and potentially lucrative opportunity for the taxidermist, who ensnares himself in an ongoing plot to steal from a nearby casino.

What distinguishes The Aura from most of this century’s heist films is that the heist itself is merely a device for character study. It stands in stark contrast to, say, Steven Soderbergh’s litany of heist films, which find their fascinations in the clockwork mechanics of the jobs themselves. Set against the unnamed backdrop of Argentina’s turn of the century financial despair, The Aura is populated by characters at the ends of their ropes. Bielinsky is intent on understanding what happens when a person finds themselves at the intersection of desperation and the delusion of opportunity. And in this methodical wilderness of a film, everything is part of the mirage until it’s not.

9. The Bling Ring (Sofia Coppola, 2013)

Sofia Coppola’s romp dramatizes Nancy Jo Sales’ famous Vanity Fair feature about a group of audacious Los Angeles teenagers who stole millions in jewelry and fashion from celebrities’ vacant homes. Early aughts tabloid icons like Paris Hilton, Lindsay Lohan, Rachel Bilson, and Orlando Bloom were among those burglarized by the high schoolers, who ensured that the houses were empty by following the stars’ movements on TMZ. Ever self-aware, Coppola clearly saw this story as a way of reflecting on a culture she, as a former rich LA teen herself, would have been intimately familiar with.

The result is the least heisty heist movie ever made. The subjects of this film are not seasoned conmen. It’d be generous to say they plan anything they do. They are impulsive young people devoid of consequence, valley girl Icaruses whose designer wings read JUICY in big, bold letters beneath the intensifying SoCal spotlight.

Always hyper conscious of her films’ atmospheres, Coppola constructs a bubble for these characters—a glossy veneer easily punctured by the slightest investigation. This veneer extends beyond the teens to their parents, of whom disturbingly little is shown. The only meaningful parental presence comes through Leslie Mann, who is deep in her comedic bag as a mother homeschooling her three girls using an ad hoc curriculum based on The Secret, a widely sold self-help book that equates wisdom with pseudoscience and cosmic clichés. In an inspired bit of casting, Emma Watson plays Nicki, Mann’s daughter and a particularly vapid member of the caper crew.

Watson isn’t “good” in the film—no one is, really—but she’s perfect. Only two years removed from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part II, she can’t quite shake the Hermione or the precocious British accent from her valley girl vibe, but it’s actually the visible labor itself that gets to the core of the character. Nicki and her friends try so desperately for their ray of celebrity sunshine that they all but melt in the pursuit.

8. Widows (Steve McQueen, 2018)

British auteur Steve McQueen didn’t direct a feature for five years after 12 Years a Slave won best picture at the 2014 Oscars. When he finally dove back in, it was for Widows, a star studded heist film that, much like The Aura, isn’t really about the heist at all. Widows explores what it’s like to be left behind—by family (living and dead), by society itself—and what becomes possible in the wake.

The all-star ensemble includes Daniel Kaluuya, Liam Neeson, Robert Duvall, Colin Farrell, Elizabeth Debicki, Brian Tyree Henry, Michelle Rodriguez, and Jon Bernthal among others, but it centers on Viola Davis, the forthright leader of a group of widows who, out of sheer desperation and gall, take on a pre-planned heist in the aftermath of their husbands’ sudden deaths. Davis lends a gravitas and emotional heft to Widows. Without her, McQueen would have been hard pressed to mine the genre for the riches he extracts out of this film. It’s a pitch perfect, utterly humorless performance that few, if any, actors going could have pulled off. (How many movie stars embody such severity and vulnerability in a single look?) It was bizarre in the moment that the Academy completely overlooked McQueen, Davis, and the film as whole. Five years later, it’s even more inexplicable. Widows is a gem.

7. Logan Lucky (Steven Soderbergh, 2017)

If not for Fabián Bielinsky, Steven Soderbergh would be the undisputed champion of the heist subgenre. He might still be. The man followed up Out of Sight—one of the best movies of the ‘90s—with Ocean’s Eleven, which is among the best movies of the aughts and essentially redefined what was possible in a heist film. (For the record, although many are in their feelings about the final heist’s outrageously heightened sense of self, Ocean’s Twelve is every bit as inventive and entertaining. And No Sudden Move isn’t half bad either.) It seems impossible that a single person could go back to the well this often and keep filling his bucket with fresh heists, and yet, Soderbergh continues to defy the odds. 2017’s Logan Lucky was no exception.

Part of what makes Soderbergh’s heists so entertaining is that they’re only interested in character to a point. The real protagonists of these films are the jobs. That his characters have well defined personalities and are enlivened by charming and beautiful actors wildly enhances the quality and excitement, but the films don’t really pretend to care about internal arcs. In Logan Lucky, Jimmy Logan (Channing Tatum) learns absolutely nothing about himself or the world around him, but it makes no difference. Tatum is so magnetic, so gorgeous, and delivers his lilting West Virginia lines with such confidence that it’s impossible not to care about what happens to him. The same can be said for Adam Driver, who plays his brother, and Daniel Craig, who intentionally or unintentionally used Joe Bang as a practice run for Benoit Blanc.

But Soderbergh’s real masterstroke in Logan Lucky is that the heist hardly needs any explanation. The set-up is clean and efficient. Added wrinkles are mostly shown in montages. Aside from a few brief expositional scenes (including one particularly brilliant bit where Daniel Craig explains how to make a bomb out of gummy bears and bleach), audiences understand this heist almost entirely through atmosphere and imagery. In an alternative universe, Soderbergh might have made Lucky as a silent film, and with some slight adjustments it might have been equally vibrant.

6. Victoria (Sebastian Schipper, 2015)

When applied to filmmaking, the term “athletic” should generally be understood as “virtuosic filmmaker showing off cinematographic chops with (probably unnecessarily) long shots.” So, for the most part, one-shot films can generally be considered prodigious gimmicks unless proven otherwise. And for the most part, Sebastian Schipper’s Victoria proves otherwise.

Victoria spends one insane night in the life of a young Spanish woman (the titular Victoria, played by Laia Costa) who recently relocated to Berlin. The story begins around three o’clock in the morning, just as Victoria is leaving an underground dance club. As she exits, she runs into Sonne (Frederick Lau), a young, disaffected Berliner making trouble with three of his buddies. Charmed by the prospect of making friends, Victoria bites at Sonne’s offer to show her the “real” Berlin. As the night devolves, Victoria is improbably (and yet somehow realistically?) coerced into becoming the group’s getaway driver as they pull an ad hoc job on a small bank.

All the events of this film take place between three o’clock and sunrise, but by the end it feels like Victoria—and the audience by proxy—has lived a long, tortured lifetime. This is among the drunkest movies of all time. Its pace shifts wildly from molasses—the first hour of this film muddles through two drunken strangers speaking in their messy second languages—to heart palpitations, and its shaky handheld camera skillfully inhabits that blurry space between drunken exploration and legitimate danger. As a result, the camera doesn’t feel like a gimmick. It feels like Victoria’s GoPro as she bellyflops into the strangest night of her life, and what the audience gets from it isn’t some showy use of force, but a brief and voyeuristic glance into the lives of frustrated young people seeking connection and a sense of direction.

Although we think of the term ‘stress’ as having primarily negative connotations, health professionals often differentiate between its different variations. One beneficial variant of stress is known as ‘eustress’. This refers to the sensations we experience when pushing ourselves beyond our comfort zones and the corresponding sense of accomplishment and satisfaction this results in.

Watching intense films is an example of the gratification we experience when we subject ourselves to eustress. Similar to riding a rollercoaster, we receive masochistic pleasure from putting ourselves in front of a facsimile of danger. Horror films, thrillers, war films and dark comedies are all examples of genres that can play on our urge to experience this transgressive, sometimes transcendent form of pleasure.

Stressful cinema can come in many shapes and sizes, from claustrophobic terror to social awkwardness to agonizing tension. This list focuses on ten films that go beyond those that are just scary or taut to being full-blown panic-inducing thrill rides. All are brilliant pieces of cinema, for both their white-knuckle force as well as their masterful formal construction.

Without further ado, here are the ten most nerve-wracking, stomach-churningly stressful pieces of cinema ever made.

1. The Wages Of Fear (1953)

Alfred Hitchcock had a theory about suspense. He said that a bomb going off under a table provides the audience with a surprise, but a bomb not going off under the table is what generates suspense. The Wages Of Fear is a ruthless exercise in stressful Hitchcockian suspense. It takes a while to get going, with the first hour dedicated to sketching out the lives of its main characters, but from the moment its nitroglycerine-loaded trucks depart, The Wages Of Fear offers up non-stop anxiety.

French director Henri-Georges Clouzet’s work was often compared to Hitchock, in particular his two masterworks Les Diaboliques and The Wages Of Fear. The latter is an existential thriller that pits its down-on-their-luck main characters against the forces of an absurd universe, with a sense of impending doom hanging over these lost souls tasked with transporting volatile explosives across a purgatorial landscape.

Featuring sequences often referred to as ‘pure cinema’, including a nerve-shredding climactic river crossing, The Wages Of Fear finds endless creative ways to put its characters in nerve-shredding danger. A sparse and muscular film that gradually transforms into something toweringly philosophical, this is the original stressful masterclass and remains one of the best thrillers ever made.

2. Duel (1971)

Steven Speilberg’s debut feature film (initially aired as a television film on ABC), Duel heralded the immediate arrival of a fully-formed directorial talent. Following well-received work in a succession of popular TV shows, Spielberg was signed by Universal Productions to direct four television films. Duel was the first and the best of the bunch, so much so that today it still ranks highly on lists of Spielberg’s finest works.

This lean, elemental film is an exercise in non-stop stress. The simple tale of businessman David Mann being pursued across the Mojave Desert by a tanker truck inexplicably hell-bent on killing him, Duel is a remarkable piece of suspense cinema that generates immense stress from the offset. Spielberg strips the piece down to its abstract essentials – the motivations of the barely-glimpsed truck driver are never revealed and the hulking truck itself is portrayed as an eerie, unstoppable villain.

The mysterious antagonist, archetypal lead and iconic American desert setting give Duel a mythic quality. Its nerve-wracking qualities transcend the in-the-moment stress and tap into something universal – the shared anxiety of being endlessly-pursued by some malevolent force. The film’s ending suggests, in typically hopeful Speilberg fashion, that we have the ability to conquer our demons, even ones as spookily intimidating as his iconic truck.

3. Das Boot (1981)

Few films feel as lived-in and as authentic as Das Boot. Every actor looks like they’ve genuinely suffered through the endless stress and claustrophobia of life aboard a German U-Boat during World War 2. The film’s texture courses with grease and sweat, you can almost smell the tiny confines of the submarine and the crew of beleaguered soldiers sailing it. Submarine warfare is a terrifying prospect in and of itself, but Das Boot brings it further to life in startling fashion.

Director Wolfgang Peterson, who would go on to direct Hollywood thrillers like Outbreak and Air Force One, expertly introduces us to the straight-line geography of the boat. His camera follows characters endlessly back and forth, from engine room to torpedo room, which quickly conveys the claustrophobic nature of the submarine. As morale starts to slip and the horrors of war become very real for the initially-enthusiastic characters, the audience know as well as them that there’s nowhere to run nor hide.

Several sequences, particularly an early attack by a British destroyer, are deeply-unnerving. A quiet and spooky atmosphere descends, as the crew kill the boat’s engines and whisper to one another in an effort to avoid a series of sudden depth charge explosions. There’s several versions available of Das Boot, including a 208-minute director’s cut that best captures the agonizing tenure of the lengthy voyage. Many similar films have been made in its wake, however none capture the cramped, stressful world of submarine warfare as well as Das Boot.

4. After Hours (1985)

There was an odd micro-genre in American cinema during the mid-eighties called the ‘yuppie nightmare cycle’. These films, which include Into The Night, Something Wild and Martin Scorsese’s After Hours, take their lead characters on madcap voyages across a city, often utilizing elliptical, shaggy dog-like narrative structures. After Hours is the darkest and most surreal of these sojourns, a blackly-comic and intensely-frustrating night on the town guided by a filmmaker exorcizing a plethora of personal demons.

After Hours went into production following Scorsese’s initial failure to secure funding for The Last Temptation Of Christ. It feels like a film made by someone harboring deep-seated anger and bitterness. The tale of New York office drone Paul Hackett (played by Scorsese cipher Griffin Dunne) who falls down a nightmarish rabbit hole after meeting Rosanna Arquette’s Mercy Franklin, After Hours’ puts Hackett through a late-night ringer of inexplicable aggressions, false accusations and Kafkaesque interactions.

It’s an energetic and relentless film, driven by a series of maddening sequences that further ensnare the hapless main character in this nocturnal labyrinth. However, beneath its surreal frustrations lies an even darker undercurrent. After Hours is rife with barely-sublimated misogyny, perhaps stemming from Scorsese’ third divorce prior to the film’s production. Hackett meets a series of women, all of whom either cry, talk incessantly, laugh at or emasculate him. It makes for a sometimes-troubling watch, but one that’s made with undeniable skill and fervor.

5. The Hitcher (1986)

Released during the height of the slasher era, Robert Harmon’s The Hitcher is a grimy thriller that shares DNA with the slasher genre, but is far more hostile towards its audience than the average horror bloodbath. Rutger Hauer’s terrifying villain John Ryder is both inescapable and seemingly indestructible. Much of the film’s stressful qualities arise from Ryder’s practically-supernatural abilities. He’s portrayed as a demonic figure that has come to Earth to cause senseless mayhem and terror.

In their tense first meeting, The Hitcher’s protagonist, played by C. Thomas Howell, asks Ryder what he wants from him, to which the antagonist obliquely responds “I want you to stop me”. This makes Ryder’s motivations all the more panic-inducing, because it transcends rationality. He appears to have chosen the protagonist for no logical reason, other than an urge to cause horrifying carnage. The idea of being unwittingly thrown into this game of violent cat and mouse is a deeply stressful one, which the film plays on with absurdist glee.

The Hitcher shares superficial similarities with Duel, a previous inclusion on this list. The setup is similar, however it replaces Duel’s mythic suspense with nihilistic exploitation thrills. Though the film is morally shallow, there’s one too many overblown action scenes and it runs out of steam following a genuinely-horrendous set piece involving two trucks – The Hitcher still packs a searing, stressful punch.

With just four feature-length films under his belt, Damien Chazelle has already established himself as a major force in the industry as well as one of the most exciting filmmakers of his generation. Having burst onto the scene with a one-two punch of critically-acclaimed smash hits in “Whiplash” and “La La Land”, the Oscar-winning director has continued to heap praise and accumulate accolades, being dubbed a precocious prodigy with a knack for character-driven stories with elaborate set-pieces and electrifying musical numbers.

Now at 38, Chazelle has garnered a global following and the respect of his peers, including a murderer’s row of Hollywood A-listers that line up for each one of his projects. His latest, an $80 million period epic starring Margot Robbie, Brad Pitt and Diego Calva that takes riotous aim at the excesses of 1920s Hollywood, became one of the most talked-about studio releases of 2022, polarizing audiences and sparking heated online discourse over the past few months. On the heels of its VOD release, we’re taking a closer look at Chazelle’s already-impressive catalog, from his bona fide masterpieces to his underlooked short films, to see where “Babylon” lands.

7. The Stunt Double (2020)

A stuntman travels through the history of cinema, as an action hero, an Indiana Jones-type caricature explorer, a tough-as-nails cowboy, and other colorful characters in this 10-minute-long short film that was shot vertically on an iPhone 11 Pro.

A glorified big commercial for Apple’s new smartphone model that was entirely funded by the tech giants, “The Stunt Double” serves as a relatively interesting, pocket-sized proof of Chazelle’s infectious love for the history of cinema that showcases many of his strengths as a visual storyteller. Only recommended to diehard fans who want to cross every last one of his directed features off their personal watchlist, “The Stunt Double” feels awkward and stale save for a few curious compositions that pay thinly-veiled homage to the likes of Alfred Hitchcock, Jean-Pierre Melville and John Ford—inadvertently making you wish you’d be watching their referenced films instead of the short itself. Overall, if intended as a convincing argument as to whether vertical-screen films will be a thing in the near future or not, Chazelle’s short film falls completely flat.

6. Whiplash (2013)

Not to be mistaken with the critically acclaimed feature-length film of the same name it inspired, this 18-minute Sundance sensation (where it opened to rave reviews and won the Short Film Jury Prize) cemented Chazelle as a force to be reckoned with and set his entire directorial career in motion by securing funding for the full-length version of the script that brought him into global prominence a year later.

Allegedly based on the director’s own strenuous experience at Princeton High School, the story centers around a novice drummer named Andrew (Johnny Simmons) who auditions for a prestigious jazz band under the direction of a ruthless conductor (played by a terrifying JK Simmons in what would eventually become his career-defining role). Though not as technically polished or well-rounded as the 103-minute film that sprung from it, Chazelle’s remarkably assured short showed us a glimpse at his directorial skills and panache, not to mention some iconic scenes that made it into the full-length 2014 film too. A must-watch to any Chazelle completionist.

5. First Man (2018)

“First Man” may have been (prematurely) billed as a flag-waving, epic recount of one of mankind’s biggest achievements of the 20th century through the lens of the first man to walk on the moon, but Damien Chazelle reached far beneath that glossy surface in his sturdy biopic. Starring Ryan Gosling as the eponymous world-famed astronaut, the film actually delivered a slow-burn, introspective character study about a stoic, emotionally-withdrawn NASA technician grappling with grief who becomes immersed in his work in order to cope with the tragic death of her daughter—a far cry from the exuberant, musical crowd-pleasers in which Chazelle had cut his teeth in.

Despite heaping praise for its stunning technical achievements, immersive IMAX visuals and sound design, “First Man” was not quite the home-run moviegoers originally expected fresh off “La La Land” and “Whiplash”, though its muted reception has more to do with their own preconceived expectations than any particular fault of its own. It may fall short of Chazelle’s best work to date, but in lieu of the onslaught of focus-tested, bland biopics that has become endemic to our multiplexes in recent years, “First Man” stand out more than ever as a welcomed addition to the genre.

The 1990s was a golden age for crime movies. Every single year of the decade, yet another perfect neo-noir was released. Audiences were overrun with classics like Goodfellas, Pulp Fiction and Fargo. Although Quentin Tarantino remains the undefeated champion of the genre during this decade, his work is only the tip of the iceberg.

When great ‘90s crime films were not sufficiently promoted or backed by a production company with enough exposure, they sadly fell into or off the margins of cinema history. Nevertheless, these titles easily give Scorsese and the Coen brothers a run for their money. The best ones are just as entertaining now as they were in the ‘90s, surpassing all that’s exciting about the genre. Crime addicts are guaranteed a bounty of undiscovered classics from this decade.

1. The Hand That Rocks the Cradle (Curtis Hanson, 1992)

In Seattle, ‘Peyton’ (Rebecca De Mornay) is hired as a nanny by Claire (Annabella Sciorra) and Michael Bartel (Matt McCoy). They’re a couple with a daughter, Emma (Madeline Zima), and another child on the way. They have no clue that Peyton is actually there to exact revenge on Claire for what she did to her family. The film is the epitome of the ‘yuppies in peril’ sub-genre of psychological thrillers, in the vein of Fatal Attraction (1987).

What makes this movie so harrowing is the realism of its premise and plot. Audiences are conflicted between sympathising with Claire or Peyton, calling into question who is the true ‘villain’ of the piece. It invokes an assessment of how we favour or dislike others, based upon the deception of appearances. The writing pierces directly into the veins of sexual politics, racial tension, grudges and female rivalry, unmasking an animalistic savagery in civilised suburbia. Much like David Lynch’s films, Robert Elswit’s camerawork captures the idyl of the Bartel’s home with the unnerving suspense of a wolf’s stare. The Hand That Rocks the Cradle will constrict a fist around your blood vessels and not relinquish them until the closing credits.

Ghostbusters’ Ernie Hudson commits the finest performance of his career, as the kindly repairman Solomon, showing us the spirituality and vulnerability in his mastery of the acting craft. While De Mornay and Sciorra are accomplished leading ladies, an early role from Julianne Moore as the silver-tongued Marlene proves to be another of the film’s qualities. Satisfying all the entertainment value of a slasher and romantic drama, The Hand That Rocks the Cradle extracts the horror of movie fantasy and thrusts it into the domesticity of our own homes. It is still waiting to be celebrated as the nail-biting, Hitchockian triller it is.

2. Sonatine (Takeshi Kitano, 1993)

The film opens with a blue fish on a spear against a red sunset. Murakawa (Takeshi Kitano) is sent by his Tokyo yakuza boss to the island of Okinawa to assuage the in-fighting between rival yakuza clans. As the warfare escalates, Murakawa and his soldiers retreat to the beach. Here, the story blossoms into an existential, haiku-like, tragic-comic meditation on the beauty of life and death.

Sonatine is undoubtedly standup comedian turned neo-noir auteur ‘Beat’ Takeshi Kitano’s “lost masterpiece,” echoing the mien of Jean-Pierre Melville’s Le Samouraï. Amongst other themes, it examines guilt and the consequences of blind conformity, exuding an atmosphere pertaining to the perceived nihilism and banality of life and death. Kitano’s still, Zen tone makes for a philosophical, meditative yakuza legend with a poet’s heart. As well as surprisingly showing us the yakuza in their introspective down-time, such as when they sit listening to the rain, in juxtaposition to their barbarity, Kitano also paints them with humour. This is typified when the oyabun (godfather) is eating, whilst all his henchman sit in silence. Looking up, he permits them to “smoke.” Synchronously, all the mobsters take out their cigarette packets and light-up.

What further differentiates Sonatine from the majority of crime films is the novel way Kitano and DP Katsumi Yanagishima choose to depict violence. Instead of showing us a shootout itself, the scene is captured from outside, displaying the muzzle flashes through an upstairs window. Then, it cuts to a shot of the muzzle flashes reflected on the waxed roofs of cars. Kitano utilises the crime genre as a crucible for his artistic priorities: sociological reflection, philosophical contemplation, yūgen and the poetry in the mundanity of life. The film’s extended takes and painterly compositions aids in the expression of this Buddhistic tone. Next to Pulp Fiction and Goodfellas, Sonatine is the greatest crime film of the ‘90s.

3. Red Rock West (John Dahl, 1993)

Michael (Nicolas Cage) is looking for work in Arizona. He’s mistaken for a hitman and employed to kill a woman named Suzanne (Lara Flynn Boyle). When Lyle from Dallas (Dennis Hopper) turns-up, the real hitman, he and the local barman (J.T. Walsh) hunt-down Michael.

Before Tarantino had made his first film, John Dahl had already perfected his own hardboiled universe in Kill Me Again (1989). Dahl expands his cool style in Red Rock West: a mystery with so many unforeseen twists, the audience remains perpetually aghast, as more puzzle pieces are revealed. The script is fast-paced, action-packed, intellectual and concise. In parallel to his work in Blue Velvet, Easy Rider’s Dennis Hopper is bestial and terrifying as Lyle. Dahl collages his unique Americana style through his mise-en-scène: desert landscapes, neon Budweiser signs, taxidermy-adorned cabins, ‘Canadian tuxedoes,’ tenebrous lighting. Dahl hasn’t directed a feature since 2007, instead focusing on guest directing TV series. It’s a great shame the crime genre lost an auteur this talented and individual.

In addition to an excellent, unsung lead performance by Nicholas Cage, the late character actor J.T. Walsh is commanding in his chilling, slippery role, much like his work in The Negotiator (1998) with Samuel L. Jackson. Critic Andrew Johnson wrote of Walsh: “[His] characters were often self-important authority figures, ‘defending’ the American establishment from the individualism represented by the movies’ heroes… or crooks who thrived by exploiting the hypocrisy of the system. Walsh didn’t just make a career of playing bad guys – his performances offered a sort of running commentary on the power structure of American society.” Walsh’s untimely death in 1998 left a satirical and critical hole in the acting craft, one which may never again be filled.

4. Suture (Scott McGehee & David Siegel, 1993)

After committing murder, Vincent Towers (Michael Harris) fakes his own death to escape the law. He switches places with his half-brother, Clay Arlington (Dennis Haysbert), but later tries to kill him.

Taking inspiration from Hiroshi Teshigahara’s The Face of Another (1966), directors Scott McGehee and David Siegel endeavoured to make a movie in the style of the early-‘60s. Indeed, shot in black and white, Suture attains the mysterious, hallucinogenic, glamorous look of that period. Aesthetically, it stands-out for its unique, minimalist framing and artistic sensibilities when capturing action. Furthermore, it feels like a lost Hitchcock thriller, for the intensity of its suspense and Vertigo-esque storyline.

Violence or a life-changing plot twist feel imminent at any time, leaving the audience in a wild desert of menace throughout the film’s duration. Sab Shimono as Dr. Max Shinoda aids in the invocation of its haze and slyness. After premiering at the Telluride Film Festival and being screened in ‘Un Certain Regard’ at the 1994 Cannes film festival, the beguiling, esoteric jewel that is Suture fell into relative obscurity. It’s a work of such high filmmaking quality, it demands a long-overdue reappraisal from crime devotees.

5. Hard Eight (Paul Thomas Anderson, 1996)

Paul Thomas Anderson’s debut feature tells the story of old timer Sydney (Philip Baker Hall), who makes John (John C. Reilly) his gambling protégé in Reno, Nevada. However, when John gets friendly with Clementine (Gwyneth Paltrow) and Jimmy (Samuel L. Jackson), things start going badly wrong.

Not only is Hard Eight a perfect neo-noir, it is also one of P.T. Anderson’s best pieces. Its simple, focused story, with few characters and underplayed tone, rewards audiences with an atmospheric, character-driven gangster piece. Its pace and cinematography are as dreamy as its vibes score and flashing red casino lights. The screenplay scrutinises regret, fatherhood and Anderson’s recurrent theme of surrogate families. Anderson is a writer-director of such aptitude, even his first feature is accomplished as any of his others. The brooding Hard Eight is both the most-underrated and one of the best crime movies of the ‘90s.

With the Hollywood mythology that’s grown around her, audiences often forget what a great actor Gwyneth Paltrow is. Her character work in Hard Eight is studiously crafted, illustrating her quirky character. As usual, Samuel L. Jackson brings a Shakespearian cadence and timbre to his character, endowing Jimmy with the gravitas of Hamlet or King Lear. Jackson also has the ability to be funny and terrifying at the same time – his knack for entertainment making him a one-man carnival. This is not to mention the majestic leads in Hall and Reilly. Crime cinema does not get much better than Hard Eight.

Once dubbed the next Steven Spielberg at the turn of the millennium after bursting onto the scene with the Bruce Willis-led pop-culture hit “The Sixth Sense”, Indian-born director M. Night Shyamalan once again dominates the headlines following the release of his 15th feature film, Universal’s “Knock in the Cabin”.

Loved by many and arduously hated by others, Shyamalan’s name carries a complicated legacy these days—a former cinematic wunderkind that sent shockwaves all across the industry with era-defining crowd-pleasers during the early aughts and who later fell out of favor with a streak of box-office bombs and critical duds. Now almost 25 years removed from his breakout hit, the writer-director is experiencing something of a late-career renaissance that he’s forged by reinventing himself with low-budget genre films that mingle arthouse sensibilities and popcorn thrills.

Both his most devoted fans and harshest critics will probably agree that few modern filmmakers have mastered the art of suspense as much as Shyamalan. Not only is he a gifted craftsman and a skilled storyteller but an outspoken film buff who constantly raves about films and always gives credit where credit is due. With recent news that he’s departed Universal for Warner Bros for his next project—which is currently slated for an August 2024 release—we have rounded up ten personal favorites that his cabal of fans should look forward to after “Knock in the Cabin”.

1. Notorious (Alfred Hitchcock, 1946)

“When I think about some of the people that I looked up to, who are on my walls—the Hitchocks and the Kubricks and all the masters,” Shyamalan told the New Yorker, “What I admire about them is that lack of being able to make them change the cinematic value system that they have, which is so inspiring, and I think it’s why they’ve endured.”

Anyone familiar with M. Night’s brand of filmmaking will likely find the aforementioned quote to be hardly surprising. Admittedly, few directors in film history could withstand unflattering comparisons to the Master of Suspense, but Shyamalan’s trademark style is cut firmly from the same cloth. Featured among his personal collection of Criterion Blu-rays, this classic Hitchcock thriller stars Cary Grant as a U.S. government agent who recruits the American daughter of a convicted German war criminal (Ingrid Bergman) in a high-stakes undercover mission to help bring Nazi to justice. This 1946 nail-biter will be worth your time if you’re looking for good, old-fashioned thrills.

2. High and Low (Akira Kurosawa, 1963)

Japanese master Akira Kurosawa is widely considered to be one of the most influential directors of all time, whose style and artistic blueprint ripples across the work of George Lucas, Sergio Leone, Steven Spielberg, and Francis Ford Coppola, among many others.

Though he became known in the West for his incredible output of medieval period films, most notably the 1954 epic “Seven Samurai”, it’s this hard-boiled crime procedural that stands out and became one of Shyamalan’s all-time favorites. Centered around a wealthy shoe executive (Toshiro Mifune) who suddenly becomes a victim of extortion following a bungled kidnapping, “High and Low” is a fascinating nail-bitter full of twists and turns that doubles down as a scorching indictment of bourgeoisie privilege and class resentment. Shyamalan has a poster of the film framed over the fireplace in his office and tweeted in 2011 that “High and Low” is a “dissertation on blocking and positioning actors in the frame”.

3. Knife in the Water (Roman Polanski, 1962)

Say what you will about Roman Polanski as a person, but the guy sure used to know how to make great thrillers in his prime. Though this 1962 Polish film sometimes gets a little lost in between “Chinatown”, “Rosemary’s Baby”, and “The Pianist”, it should be respected as one of the finest directorial debuts ever and the film that put the director on the map in the first place.

A married couple decide to spend the afternoon together on the lake when they suddenly bump into a young hitchhiker, supplying the bedrock for a violent power struggle in which tensions and contempt soon come to the fore. “Watched Polanski’s first film last night”, tweeted Shyamalan in 2015. “Incredibly sensual and riveting. Amazing use of foreground photography.” On another occasion, the Indian-born director cited Polanski’s first English-language film, the Catherine Deneuve-led psycho-thriller “Repulsion”, as a huge influence when storyboarding “The Sixth Sense”: “We’d be watching it in my office and marveling at it. So restrained and unnerving.”

4. Mulholland Drive (David Lynch, 2001)

“I am such an admirer of David Lynch, he’s a master storyteller who’s greatly influenced me,” confessed Shyamalan. Throughout the years, the Indian-born director has frequently cited the American auteur as an inspirational touchstone, claiming he revisited his work during the production of the TV series “Sundowning” and “Wayward Pines”—the latter of which he described as Lynchian in tone—and the 2015 film “The Visit”: “I don’t know why he speaks to me at this time, but he accompanied me throughout the film, Lynch’s darkness inspires me more and more”.

In 2016, the director re-watched “Mulholland Drive”, a film famous for its status as one of Lynch’s darker films that some may argue defies genre pigeonholing, not unlike Shyamalan’s own work. “Amazing film! So structurally unique, and to me it’s a horror story,” he tweeted. In burrowing deep into the dark recesses of the troubled headspace of young Hollywood starlet Betty Elms (Naomi Watts), Lynch tapped into the stuff that really keep us at night. “Everyone is so odd and disturbing, it’s almost the opposite of every studio note that’s ever been given,” argued Shyamalan. Any film buff who in the year of our lord 2022 has somehow not seen “Mulholland Drive” has some serious homework to do.

5. Seance on a Wet Afternoon (Bryan Forbes, 1964)

In the movies of M. Night, the purpose of the traditional horror genre trappings is often twofold—serving first as attention-grabs and doubling down as the baseline to delve deeper into the psychological makeup of the family unit, examining the way grief, trauma, and loss affect individuals.

Considering his trademark obsessions and stylish calling cards, it is barely surprising that this classic British thriller struck a chord with the Indian-born director when he first watched it 11 years ago. One wonders if the mastermind behind some of the biggest jump-scares in modern cinema is fazed by any film at all, but it seems as though Bryan Forbes’ black-and-white psychodrama did the trick. In a 2012 tweet, Shyamalan described “Seance on a Wet Afternoon”—in which a working-class housewife hatches an elaborate kidnapping plot to further enhance her reputation as a spiritual medium with the help of her loyal husband—as a “very creepy film”, noting how its characters are “so dark and conflicted”. Likewise, first-time viewers will have a tough time shaking off this blistering jolt of terror out of their systems.

As 2023 begins to kick into gear, it’s essential to look back at what made the previous year so great. Before readers move onto another year of new and exciting releases, Taste of Cinema will once again discuss the highlights from the previous year. This list specifically focuses on the best science fiction films from 2022.

Below, you’ll find the ten best sci-fi movies from last year. As always, there’s a solid mix of introspective arthouse releases and all-out blockbusters. The amount of variety should, in theory, help readers find something worth watching.

10. Crimes of the Future

It’s wild to think that David Cronenberg, a director so closely associated with body horror, took a twenty-three year break from the subgenre. Sure, it’s not like he was out directing flops, but let’s be honest, Eastern Promises is a massive departure from things like Videodrome and The Fly. Though countless directors have tried to replicate Cronenberg’s visceral style, few have been able to get it right. That’s why Crimes of the Future was such a big deal prior to its release.

Cronenberg’s return to body horror is, unsurprisingly, the best kind of grotesque nightmare fuel. The scattershot storytelling might rub some viewers the wrong way, but it shouldn’t really come as a surprise. This is quintessential Cronenberg. It’s a movie that generally prioritizes haunting imagery and methodical suspense, often at the expense of a cohesive narrative. Theoretically, this should be a major problem, but given Cronenberg’s talents, it’s easy to ignore the narrative missteps because, deep down, it’s much easier to just enjoy the ride.

9. Something in the Dirt

Throughout the years, directing duo Moorhead and Benson have developed a small but loyal following. Films like The Endless and Spring earned strong reviews thanks to their heady themes and naturalistic dialogue. Given the consistently convoluted storytelling in their filmography, their work has been polarizing, but generally speaking, reactions continue to be positive.

Something in the Dirt, the latest full length feature from the two, is just as ambitious as you’d expect. It’s filled with numerous ideas, and at times, this can interfere with pure enjoyability. In other words, the film isn’t always exciting to sit through. That being said, it has a central message that’s easy to appreciate and a pair of leads who elevate the overstuffed narrative.

8. Brian and Charles

This methodically-paced sci-fi comedy doesn’t exactly open with a bang. On the contrary, Jim Archer’s directorial debut sneaks up on you. Early on, viewers meet Brian, a lonely inventor living in a small Welsh town. The obsessive tinkerer, who spends most of his time home alone, eventually finds a way to bring his long-awaited robot companion to life. From there, we meet Charles, and for the next thirty minutes, we learn about the quirky robot’s various intricacies.

The opening act is pleasant, but it rarely makes an effort to actively keep viewers emotionally invested. However, as the runtime progresses, viewers quickly learn that this slow buildup serves a very important purpose. As we watch the relationship between Brian and Charles grow, we become increasingly invested in their friendship, and as result, we become increasingly dependent on their wellbeing.

Okay sure, maybe a lot of movies do that. Brian and Charles isn’t exactly groundbreaking in its methodology, but the use of pathos proves to be an essential ingredient regardless. This is largely because it provides viewers with two immensely likable characters. It’s easy to root for the pair of protagonists because they’re so well-written and so full of life. Even if Brian and Charles doesn’t break new ground, it certainly finds a way to get viewers attached to its unlikely duo.

7. Avatar: The Way of Water

It has been over ten years since the release of Avatar, and since then, blockbusters have changed dramatically. The Marvel Cinematic Universe has continued to influence big-budget action movies, resulting in things like the DC Extended Universe and the Monsterverse. While there have been plenty of gems since the release of Avatar, it’s nice that, 13 years later, Cameron is still capable of making films that are certifiably his own.

Avatar: The Way of the Water is exactly what you expect. It’s a sweeping technical achievement with an engaging, albeit fairly simple, story. Like all of Cameron’s filmography, it celebrates excess. The daunting runtime, lavish visual effects, and enormous cast of characters won’t surprise anyone familiar with the director’s work. Luckily, that feeling of familiarity generally stands out as a positive.

Basically, this is a worthy follow-up to the highest grossing film of all time because it feels like such a natural next-step. Rather than attempting to replicate the formulas established by today’s blockbusters, Avatar: The Way of the Water is just a bigger, better version of its predecessor. The visuals are more impressive, the characters have more depth, and the story is more ambitious. This is exactly what it needs to be.

That might not be enough for the people who criticized the original, but that doesn’t matter. Cameron’s goal wasn’t to convert the naysayers because, frankly, he didn’t need to. He knew that sprucing up the previously established formula would work out in his favor, and he was right.

6. Prey

After so many failed attempts at revitalizing the iconic franchise, Prey finally pushes the Predator franchise forward. It turns out that, rather than piling on excessive amounts of convoluted lore, the series simply needed to deliver slick action scenes featuring a likable protagonist going up against the iconic extraterrestrial species. See, Prey isn’t particularly complex; it’s just a well-made movie that does everything it sets out to do.

Trachteberg’s prequel takes the franchise all the way back to 1719. Viewers are introduced to Naru, a wannabe hunter who idolizes her brother’s prowess. As warning signs begin to foreshadow the appearance of the Predator franchise’s titular monster, Naru’s hunting skills become an essential life-or-death skill. Thus begins an hour of pulse pounding excitement.

Prey’s well-choreographed battles are great on their own, but they’re accompanied by a terrific leading performance. Amber Midthunder doesn’t portray a throwaway space marine; she’s a charismatic protagonist through and through. Her charm goes hand-in-hand with practically everything else, resulting in an entry that very well could be the best in the series.

Born in Berkshire in 1965, Sam Mendes began his directing career in theatre, masterminding successful runs of ‘Oliver!’ and ‘Caberet’. Turning to filmmaking, he struck gold in 1999 with his debut film, ‘American Beauty’. The drama went on to win big at the box office and at the Academy Awards, securing Mendes a Director Oscar and the film the Best Picture honour. From there, Mendes made four more American-centric films that focused on different settings, themes and tones. Following his hiring as the director of the 23rd James Bond film, ‘Skyfall’, Mendes returned to the UK to make a run of British films that proved successful with both critics and audiences. His latest, ‘Empire of Light’, reinforces this geographical career split and his newfound comfort in making films in the UK, for the UK.

Sam Mendes likes familiarity. He has worked with composer Thomas Newman on seven of his nine films, cinematographer Roger Deakins on five of them, editor Lee Smith on three, Daniel Craig on three, and has worked with Conrad Hall, Andrew Scott and Colin Firth twice. His films have a polished visual look; a sleekness that is apparent in both artistic action scenes and intense dialogues. His films have been nominated for Cinematography Oscars four times. No clear theme is consistent across his filmography, but some that have recurred include love and desire, familial problems and a broad understanding of life and death, and the element of pained beauty that is found in the latter. Here are his nine films ranked.

9. Jarhead (2005)

‘Jarhead’ is one of the most conflicting film experiences of the 21st century. Jake Gyllenhaal plays US Marine Anthony Swofford, the real-life soldier whose memoir was adapted by William Broyles Jr.. Swofford enlisted in the US army and was then posted to Kuwait during the Gulf War after the arduous training process. Whilst out there, Swofford and his fellow soldiers never once fired their snipers and were reduced to bored, isolated war machines desperate for action.

This is a fascinating, unique look at soldiery and war. Gyllenhaal is decent in the lead role, and Jamie Foxx is also noteworthy as Staff Sergeant Sykes. Moreover, the film’s strongest aspect is the cinematography by Roger Deakins, who turns oil fields into hellish landscapes and the desert into a bleached wasteland of repetitive boredom.

The fundamental flaw is that the film’s disobedience to structure because of its themes makes for an unsatisfying viewing experience. Much like 2007’s ‘Zodiac’ (also starring Gyllenhaal), which never solves its central murder case over its extensive runtime because that is how it happened in real life, the lack of action in ‘Jarhead’ becomes as frustrating for the viewer as it does for Swofford. This is undeniably Mendes’ intent, in the same way it is also David Fincher’s for ‘Zodiac’, but it is hard to ever want to watch this war film again because of its unfulfilling experience. The great irony is that the film spawned three direct-to-video sequels, all of which were fictional and contained the very action that people missed in the first one. So much for taking the wrong message.

8. Empire of Light (2022)

What could have been a prime contender for awards season has fizzled out upon its arrival to UK cinemas. ‘Empire of Light’, Mendes’ latest, is yet another film about the power of cinema. Perhaps its critical shortcomings have something to do with the growing fatigue generated by directors making personal passion projects about their own life or about why they love cinema. Or because Sam Mendes is simply trying to do too many things here: he is making dinner whilst washing up, laying the table, drying up and putting snacks out. What is served is a half-baked mixture of good things whilst many more were ignored and left in the oven too long.

‘Empire of Light’ revolves around the blooming romantic relationship between a white, middle-aged cinema duty manager and a young black youth in 1980s Margate. Olivia Colman is superb as the former, Hillary, whose schizophrenia places her at odds with her co-workers, particularly her exploitative boss (Colin Firth). Michael Ward plays the new worker, Stephen, who finds escapism from his racial abuse in both Hillary and the cinema. Tackling mental health, exploitation, racism, taboo relationships and sex in a two hour film is a gutsy move by Mendes (who also wrote the film). It is an emotional film by the climax, but there is a lot of gentle build-up to wade through beforehand.

As for the synthesis of the many themes, Mendes goes for the correct, albeit predictable answer: the cinema is a place of escapism where light and darkness coexist beautifully. To enjoy life is also to endure the pain, and that is no bad message indeed.

7. Away We Go (2009)

This is by far the most overlooked film directed by Mendes. Released to mild fanfare in 2009, ‘Away We Go’ is unquestionably the least ‘Mendes’ film of the list. Whilst that might make it the least important of the nine films, it still remains a remarkably lovely, friendly and reassuring film despite its stripped back simplicity.

Thomas Newman is absent from the film’s score. Instead, Alexi Murdoch provides a soundtrack which also includes George Harrison, The Velvet Underground, Bob Dylan, and The Stranglers. This is a fitting change – the film is a road trip film wherein John Krasinski and Maya Rudolph play a couple expecting a baby who journey around the US finding a suitable place to raise their child. Meeting estranged family and friends, they go on their own journey for what type of parents they want to be. All great road trips require a great playlist, so the exchange of score for soundtrack is logical.

Equally, the cinematography feels more natural than the artistic and digitised work that Mendes did before and after this film. The narrative, or lack of, is structured around each location visited. Krasinski and Rudolph are the only two constants in the cast, and their chemistry is suitably wonderful. ‘Away We Go’ may seem a strange picture for Sam Mendes to make, especially when his next film would be a big-budget Bond film. Time may erode its availability due to the lack of esteem or notable talent involved, but this is a comforting experience – one that should hold extra weight for those soon to be parents.

6. Spectre (2015)

Franchise filmmaking is tough. It is especially tough when the previous film ignited the world and was universally loved. Such was the case with ‘Spectre’, the 24th James Bond film and the sequel to Mendes’ adored ‘Skyfall’. ‘The Godfather Part III’ and ‘The Dark Knight Rises’ are two other films that underwhelmed the audiences that were expecting an impossible level of quality following their predecessor’s. Yet all three of these films are actually better than comment sections and critics give them credit for.

In returning to do more Bond, Mendes flipped his ambitions. If ‘Skyfall’ was subversive and smart, driven by character and visuals, then ‘Spectre’ is a return to 007 formula. Remarkably, it is the only Daniel Craig Bond film that obeys the franchise’s steady formula: Bond girls are ‘back’, he gets a new gadget-laden car and gadget-laden watch, he is quipping more, the globe-trotting feels bigger, SPECTRE is back, and there is a big old henchman.

There are flaws. The story feels hamstrung in introducing Christoph Waltz’s (weak) Ernst Stavro Blofeld and in trying to connect the last three Craig Bonds together in some MCU-style epic narrative. The film also bears a resemblance to ‘Mission: Impossible – Rogue Nation’ (also 2015) in its Moroccan, Austrian and British location work. The third act is also forgettable.

But the highs are still there, and worth rewatching for. The pre-credit sequence sees the Bond franchise adopt an extended continuous shot that dazzles, before the exciting aerial stunt work in the Day of the Dead ceremony. Later on, set-pieces in Austria and a brutal train fight are energising. Dave Bautista is an imposing presence as Mr Hinx and Ralph Fiennes comes into his own as M (“and now we know what ‘C’ stands for”). And the more Ben Wishaw as a wool-wearing Q, the better!

Since the genesis of cinema, the crime genre has unfalteringly persisted as a firm favourite among audiences worldwide. Although the ‘40s or the ‘90s are often referenced as great times for noir and neo-noir cinema, respectively, the 2010s boasts its own hefty share of crime classics.

Most movie fans are already familiar with well-publicised triumphs like The Irishman. However, a myriad of excellent crime movies from the past decade remain puzzlingly overlooked or shrugged-off. They easily match or surpass the quality of the best-rated titles in the genre. They’re in-need of much-deserved reappraisal.

1. El Infierno (Luis Estrada, 2010)

“I’m only doing this because I have no choice.”

The title translates to: ‘Hell,’ in English. One of the best Mexican films ever made, this monumental Spanish language narco pelicula concerns Benny (Damián Alcázar), who emigrated from Mexico to the United States as a young man. 20 years later, he’s deported to a homeland he no-longer recognises, stricken by the War on Drugs. With money as dry as the San Luis Potosí desert, in spite of his hatred of them, Benny’s enticed into working for the cartel. In the company of Ernesto Gomez Cruz and telenovela actress Elizabeth Cervantes, Narcos: Mexico’s Joaquín Cosio plays flamboyant drug baron: ‘Cochiloco.’

In perhaps the most resonant, meaningful, nation-defining crime film ever made, Estrada’s cautionary tale shows us how Mexican people continue to endure of the bloodshed of the deeply-entrenched cartel, especially in the northern desert states. In an economic landscape decimated by the 2008 Financial Crisis, El Infierno shows audiences the cartel’s enslavement of the police, religion institutions and government, the indoctrination of children into a life of murder. It is a denouncement, an exposé of a deeply-damaging issue in Mexican society, pointing a finger at those whom have struck terror into the lives of the Mexican people. What is more, El Infierno examines the United States involvement of drug importation and how that effects Mexico’s power balance. The racial tensions between indigenous and colonial-descended Mexicans are also considered.

More broadly, with Benny as the audience’s eyes, El Infierno details how an ordinary, kind-hearted person can be mutated into a murderer, the dichotomy between money or morality. With a fast-moving pace, the story’s progression is determined by the characters, not a contrived structural imposition, adding to its verisimilitude. There’s also gallows humour present, over the slide guitar and Czech-tinged Tejano accordion soundtrack. Whilst being incredibly moving, El Infierno delivers on all genre fronts for a perfect, fresh-feeling crime movie, boasting atmospheric production design and masterful performances across the board. Easily one of the best films of the 2010s and a must-watch.

2. The Outrage Trilogy (Takeshi Kitano, 2010, 2012, 2017)

Comedian turned mob chronicler ‘Beat’ Takeshi Kitano wrote, directed and acted in: Outrage (2010), Beyond Outrage (2012) and Outrage Coda (2017). His epic saga journals the bitter in-fighting between rival yakuza clans in Japan’s Kanto region. Japanese acting giants Jun Kunimura (Kill Bill) and Toshiyuki Nishida co-star alongside adept newcomer Tokio Kaneda.

In Japanese aesthetics, there exists the concept of Yūgen. Inexpressible through words, it means “the subtle profundity of things that are only vaguely suggested by poems. That which is beyond what can be said.” Yūgen is a prominent quality in Japanese arts, especially in haiku, but also in Noh theatre and ukiyo-e woodblock prints. The Outrage Trilogy, like Kitano’s Sonatine, is brimming with the delicate, transcendent beauty of Yūgen. Katsumi Yanagishima’s graceful cinematography exudes an inexplicable atmosphere of Zen, stillness, poeticism – a silent meditation on life and death. Likewise, this trait was ever-present in the filmography of Kitano’s idol: Jean-Pierre Melville, who engendered an indelibly Buddhistic tone around his sparse dialogue.

Growing-up, Kitano spent time around the yakuza and claimed he might’ve joined them if he hadn’t become a standup. His intimate knowledge of the yakuza is apparent in everything from the specificity of their Irezumi (full-body tattoos) to the conduct of their sake-drinking pact. The violence in Kitano’s films may be the only cinematic depictions that feel authentic. Murders are swift and life-changing. “I intentionally shoot violence to make the audience feel real pain,” asserts Kitano. “That’s how it is in real life and that’s how it should be expressed. I have never and I will never shoot violence as if it’s some kind of action video game.” By letting the camera linger on a corpse in the road, Kitano aids his audience’s understanding what violence truly means.

Despite making the trilogy “with no other ambition than to be entertaining,” Kitano achieves much more than this remit. It also professes much of his finest dark humour. When a character asks Otomo (Kitano) what his name is, in typical fashion, Otomo snaps: “My name is f*ck off.” The Alain Delon-esque, poker-faced antihero Kitano has cultivated in his work (starting with Violent Cop) is at-once hilarious, menacing, mysterious and philosophical: an unsettling chameleon of entertainment. For crime fans, The Outrage Trilogy quenches a thirst, ticking all the right boxes. It’s only matched by Goodfellas in its ambitious scope, entertainment value and flawless delivery.

3. The Guard (John Michael McDonagh, 2011)

In John Michael McDonagh’s raucous directorial debut, FBI Agent Wendell Everett (Don Cheadle) is dispatched to Connemara, on Ireland’s rural west coast. He’s to lead an investigation into drug trafficking. The only thing he wasn’t prepared for was being partnered with irreverent, law-ignoring local cop: Sergeant Gerry Boyle (Brendan Gleeson). This ‘Irish western ’remains the most financially-successful independent Irish film of all-time. Criminally underrated, it’s inarguably one of the best directorial debuts.

The Guard’s cleverly-written, laugh-a-minute detective and gangster fun foreshadows McDonagh’s equally-brilliant subsequent work. Confidently brought to life by Gleeson and Cheadle, McDonagh writes interesting and colourful dialogue filled with allusions to philosophy, in this case Friedrich Nietzsche. It’s joyous to see Cheadle to return to comedy. It’s genre he’s highly-proficient at but does not usually get the opportunity to enhance, other than as country music-loving Buck in Boogie Nights.

The Guard’s especially aesthetically beautiful in the context of British and Irish cinema, with its Almodóvar primary colours, green lighting and painterly framing. One technique of note is when the camera is fixed upon a tripod on a beach, filming the Atlantic at nighttime. Without moving the frame, it cuts to the same shot, but in daylight, making for a fresh and exciting editing transition. The film’s spaghetti western bravado is supported by Calexico’s flamenco soundtrack.

One of the things this film achieves is finding humour in controversial areas. When Boyle makes racist remarks to Wendell Everett, it’s understood that he’s not doing this to upset Wendell or because he’s a genuine racist. “I’m only havin’ a bit of fun, like.” This is Boyle’s eccentric way of making friends with Wendell: saying politically-incorrect jokes to break the ice, hoping they can share a laugh together. Boyle finds people’s reactions to his outrageous jokes hilarious. His unusual, cheeky sense of humour ultimately nurtures a camaraderie between the two lawmen. Though this is best evaluated by African American viewers, through McDonagh’s writing, it’s apparent The Guard’s intention is to be funny and satirical, not to declare a racist philosophy or mock African American people. If the latter was its true resolve, it probably wouldn’t’ve been released cinematically and certainly wouldn’t holdup as one of the funniest comedies of the 2010s.

4. Spring Breakers (Harmony Korine, 2012)

School friends Faith (Selena Gomez), Candy (Vanessa Hudgens), Brit (Ashley Benson) and Cotty (Rachel Korine) run away from their dull hometown to experience spring break in St. Petersburg, Florida. After being rallied by seedy gangster rapper ‘Alien’ (James Franco), the young women become embroiled in a life of crime.

Spring Breakers is to the 2010s what Easy Rider is to the 1960s: a decade-defining piece. Upon its release, some audience members couldn’t decipher whether it was a tribute to or “an indictment of vapid youth culture.” Korine gives his viewer the space to makeup their own mind on the excesses of that era. Establishing the ‘Florida pink noir’ sensibility he’d go on to accentuate in The Beach Bum, in Spring Breakers, Korine invents an entirely new mode of cinema. It’s a dreamlike “collage,” wherein narrative is secondary to feeling, experience and atmosphere. “Micro-scenes which were then looped,” Korine elucidated. It’s a film unlike any other.

On his creative choices, Korine explained: “The movie was more meant to mimic a drug experience, a ride or a physical experience. Maybe it’s more musical or experiential than it is a traditional narrative. Based on a pop song, with hooks – a catchiness to it. More kind of a game. I [wanted it] to look like it was lit with skittles. I loved the idea of working with those girls specifically because, in real life, [they’re] representative of that culture, of that dream.”

Although it was subsequently included in the BBC’s ‘100 Greatest Films of the 21st Century,’ Spring Breakers remains a chiefly misunderstood work of groundbreaking genius. Whatever trash one expects from its poster or trailer is immediately dispelled by its poeticism, social significance and empyrean beauty. Korine’s filmmaking advice is: “give me something amazing. Give me something new. Give me something I haven’t seen before, in a way I haven’t seen it. Make me feel something. But just don’t give me the same sh*t over and over again because I don’t want it.”

5. Out of the Furnace (Scott Cooper, 2013)

In the rust belt of Pennsylvania’s Appalachian Mountains, mill worker Russell Baze (Christian Bale) helps his younger brother Rodney (Casey Affleck), a boxer, with his debt to infamous hillbilly godfather Harlan deGroat (Woody Harrelson). When Rodney goes missing, Russel ventures into the backwoods to find him, assisted by his friend John Petty (Willem Dafoe).

Out of the Furnace is the second film of Virginian director Scott Cooper, following his 2009 debut Crazy Heart. A realistic drama first and a noir second, it examines the American dream and the Financial Crisis’s life-changing consequences for working class Americans. It also achieves a portrait of how wartime traumas continue to emotionally harm veterans. Pearl Jam’s Eddie Vedder makes contributions to its haunting soundtrack.

Out of the Furnace contains arguably the best scene in 2010s cinema. This takes place on a bridge and depicts the reunion between estranged lovers Lena (Zoe Saldaña) and Russell (Bale). Monumental, timeless truths are revealed within this scene. Of it, Bale reflected: “I realised, during it, this is a man seeing all of his dreams and hopes for his life completely obliterated.” It’s dramatic writing at its relatable, heart-wrenching best.

In addition to Bale and Saldaña’s exemplary performances, Woody Harrelson is nastier and more frightening than in any other role, elevating Harlan deGroat to the ultimate villain. Moreover, Forrest Whittaker and Dafoe are typically exceptional, as is the late Sam Shepard – making an art form out of the understated. While delivering all the style and action one desires from a great crime movie, Out of the Furnace has distinctly literary concerns. A film of this standard is ineligible for the lukewarm response it bewilderingly received upon its 2013 release.

Darren Aronofsky is back! Having built off a successful career out of spiking the viewer’s heart rate manyfold with shocking movies that chill to the bone, Hollywood’s marquee provocateur is once again on everyone’s lips with the Brendan Frasier-starring “The Whale”, a theater play adaptation that tells the story of a 600-lb man trying to reconnect with his estranged daughter.

Confusing to many, but fiercely beloved by anyone brave enough to stick with them, Darren Aronofsky’s films never fail to stir up debate and make headlines with their dark explorations of human nature. From “Pi” all the way to “mother!”, the American filmmaker has forged a lasting reputation as a gifted craftsman with a keen eye for striking visuals and a bold storyteller whose byline alone puts asses in seats. With all the controversy brewing on the heels of his latest offering, what better time to revisit every entry in his bone-chilling catalog and see how it all stacks up.

8. Noah (2014)

Following the rousing success of “Black Swan” in 2010, Aronofsky leveraged his new-found critical acclaim into shooting a $125 million studio epic full of sword-and-sandals showdowns starring Russell Crowe and stalwart collaborator Jennifer Connelly—a major heel turn from a guy who up to that point had earned his stripes in low-budget productions. Rather unsurprisingly, the resulting film is perplexing and fascinating in almost equal measure; a bizarre crossbreed between operatic Biblical saga à la Cecil B. DeMille and intimate character study that doubles down as a heavy-handed environmentalist fable.

As overwrought and uneven though it may be, however, it’s a testament to Aronofsky’s lofty artistic ambitions that a film that’s widely regarded as his weakest outing to date still remains such a fascinating oddity—the kind of swing-for-the-fences spectacle we rarely get to see at the multiplex in this day and age. For all of Noah’s Biblical heroics and mythical floods, though, the real miracle here is the fact that Aronofsky convinced a major studio to bankroll this film in the first place.

7. mother!

A sensorial experience deliberately constructed to be as grueling and migraine-inducing as humanly possible, Aronofsky’s domestic psycho-thriller continues to spark rarefied passions and heated debates among moviegoers over half a decade upon its initial release.

Widely touted as the director’s most inscrutable and polarizing movie to date, “mother!” juggles many themes at its fold; zeroing in on a downtrodden poet writer (Javier Bardem) and his pregnant wife (Jennifer Lawrence), whose relationship and sanity are brutally tested through a carousel of unexpected guests that suddenly come knocking down at their door. What at first unfolds as an intriguing, slow-burn nail-bitter soon curdles into a nightmarish psychodrama steep in metaphors and cluttered biblical motifs that toes the line of miserabilism to a nauseating degree. On many fronts, this is the most Aronofsky film ever committed to celluloid; a rite of passage that will either turn you into one of his staunch devotees for years to come or make you regret ever pressing that play button. For better or worse, “mother!” must be seen to be believed.

6. The Fountain (2006)

If nothing else, you can count on Aronofsky to pull out all the stops in each and every one of his movies. “The Fountain”, a Hugh Jackman-led sci-fi epic featuring 16th century Spanish conquistadores, present-day surgeons, and cosmic space travelers alike, is something on the lines of “The Tree of Life” on acid. Spanning over thousand years across three parallel narrative threads, this 2006 mind-bender is overflowing with ideas about religion, love, and death that are all worth confronting—even if, for the most part, Aronofsky struggles to find a refined expression to his philosophical musings within 96 minutes.

To be fair, if “The Fountain” does not quite stick the landing, it is not entirely through Aronofsky’s fault, who was definitely out of his depth this time around but also saw his vision heavily damped after clashing with the studio during production. Though the film was not met kindly upon its release, your mileage may (and will) vary, in fact, many diehard fans would rank it among the director’s finest.

5. The Whale (2022)

To no one’s surprise, the latest theatrical feature by Aronofsky was equally mired in controversy, causing a frenzy at Venice where it instantly polarized pundits and audiences with its uncompromising treatment of obesity. Adapted from Samuel D. Hunter’s play, “The Whale” concerns a 600-lb man (Brendan Fraser) who develops a dangerous eating disorder following the death of his partner and makes one last attempt at reconnecting with her estranged teenage daughter (“Stranger Things” breakout Sadie Sink).

Much of the fanfare surrounding the film is owed to Fraser’s vulnerable performance in the titular role, which heaped near-universal praise last fall and resulted in a much-deserved Oscar nod among other accolades. But as exciting as it’s been to follow the Brendanaissance up close in the past few months, Aronofsky’s misbegotten effort never quite manages to earn its emotional punches. As a whole, “The Whale” barely scratches the surface of its subject matter and instead relies on surface level commentary in order to force a strong reaction out of viewers. The latter is something Aronofsky has aspired to do ever since he first picked up a camera, so overall, this movie will not convert any new fans.

In 2022, moviegoers were treated with a bounty of instant classics at the multiplex that proved that cinema is alive and well. Many high-profile blockbusters that earned impressive box-office receipts and discourse magnets that were showered in accolades have already been discussed at length in the many round-up lists you will come across around this time of the year.

Unfortunately, that means that countless other worthy titles have gone under the radar and remain in relative obscurity in spite of their quality. This list wishes to right that wrong by casting a light upon those films that might have garnered much less attention but are nevertheless worthy of your time. Without further ado, let’s dive in.

1. All the Beauty and the Bloodshed

Art and activism intertwine in Laura Poitras’ uncompromising portrait of Nan Goldin, whose brilliant career as an American photographer and icon of the New York counterculture during the ’80s is only outshone by her courageous activism against the Sackler family, a wealthy dynasty that built a fortune with OxyContin during the opioid epidemic in the U.S..

As the title suggests, “All the Beauty and the Bloodshed” evokes joy and revolt in almost equal measure. First and foremost, this is a celebration of a trendsetting artist that showcases a beautiful selection of Goldin’s now-iconic photographs. The film also burrows deep into her personal background, from her upbringing in suburban Boston and D.C., the tragic death of her sister, all the way up to her adult life, allowing us to understand how all of these events helped shape Goldin’s artistic endeavors. Absolutely essential not only in its incisive observations but as a timely wake-up call, this film is not to be missed.

2. Argentina 1985

Courtroom dramas based on true stories are a dime a dozen these days, but Santiago Mitre’s new film, a Hollywoodized re-enactment of the Trial of the Juntas in Argentina, is telling proof that the formula is yet to be exhausted.

In the tradition of sturdy, academic staples like “All the President’s Men” and “JFK”, “Argentina 1985” manages to weave through decades-worth of investigation and testimonies all into 140 taut minutes, charting the heroic efforts of chief prosecutor Julio Strassera (Ricardo Darín) who, under constant death threats, brought justice to the victims of Argentina’s ruthless military dictatorship during the country’s rocky transition to democracy.

Unspooling leisurely in order to properly give a sense of the arduous and slow work of justice, “Argentina 1985” delivers exactly what it sets out to do. And though the movie hardly reinvents the formula, the fact that it recently picked up Best Foreign Film at the 2023 Golden Globes is irrefutable evidence that instructive stories that help us remember the past will always be valued among moviegoers.

3. Living

In recounting the final days of an aging, misanthropic civil servant who’s suddenly diagnosed with stomach cancer and grapples with his own mortality in postwar Britain, “Living” provides a poignant exploration of the meaning of life and death that doubles down as a scathing indictment on bureaucracy.

On paper, a shot-for-shot remake of one of the most enduring humanist dramas in 20th century cinema might seem like a self-defeating endeavor. More than 70 years on, “Ikiru” remains one of the crowning achievements of Japanese legend Akira Kurosawa, which leaves Oliver Hermanus with little room for improvement. If his English remake manages to withstand unflattering comparisons, it is mostly thanks to Bill Nighy’s powerhouse performance, a nuanced turn that might very well earn him a long-overdue Best Actor nod. At once sincerely tender yet never cloying or manipulative, “Living” will tug at your emotional heartstrings.

4. No Bears

Despite being officially banned from filmmaking and currently serving a six-year sentence for “propaganda against the system”, Tehran-based director Jafar Panahi continues to beat the odds and defy the powers that be (even if he has to smuggle his work clandestinely to do so). His latest, a delectably provocative experiment on meta-cinema that blurs the line between fiction and reality, finds Panahi playing a version of himself as an oppressed director living in a remote rural village right across the Turkish border remotely overseeing his latest film.

Though it’s virtually impossible to detach the allegory from its thinly-veiled real-life inspiration, “No Bears” is more than just a bravado act of political resistance—it’s a film that tears at the very fabric of the art form, and most importantly, one deliberately intended to leave audiences with a whole lot to chew on. Though certainly entertaining at face value, “No Bears” reaches far beneath its surface.

5. Moonage Daydream

Anyone expecting a conventional David Bowie documentary is setting themselves up with Brett Morgen’s latest, which is anything but that. Whether packaged in two-hour-long feature films like “Elvis” or nine-parter series like “Get Back”, music documentaries often struggle to weave cohesive portraits of the life, career, and legacy of larger-than-life icons, let alone one as eccentric, complex, and multifaceted as David Bowie.

“Moonage Daydream” proved to be the exception to the rule; breathing new life into The Thin White Duke with a vibrant collage of images and sounds that seamlessly plods through decades-worth of archival material and unseen concert footage. And though Brett Morgen somehow encompasses the many faces of Bowie—the singer, painter, activist, iconoclast and silver screen legend—his stream of consciousness mutates into something bigger and transcendental than its central subject. Whether you’re a Bowie diehard fan or just a curious music aficionado, watching “Moonage Daydream” will be time well spent.

In one of her last essays for the New Yorker, Pauline Kael turned the criticism inward. She celebrated and lamented having had to write in the pre-rental era, which meant that each “Current Cinema” column responded in real time to a film she had just seen, or it recalled films that remained stuck in the irritated corners of her memory. This, she suggested, lent her writing a sense of “urgency” and “excitement,” but also manifested her greatest flaw: “reckless excess, in both praise and damnation… I often got carried away by words. I’d run on, and I’d hit too many high notes.”

Maybe she underestimated how reckless flourishes and run-ons comprised so much of what readers loved about her writing. It’s what differentiated Kael from the other eminent critics of her time, particularly from Roger Ebert, whose measured, close-knit syntax seemed always to boil a film down to its essential components, leaving little room for embellishment. There’s a reason Kael never slapped a grade on a film. The point of reading her work wasn’t the recommendation, it was the intoxication of conversing with her as she worked through her feelings on the films that challenged her.

Kael seemed to have a special relationship with genre films that rose above lazy B-movie billings. Aside from musicals, thrillers often seemed the most direct way to her heart, and her incisive criticism helped to elevate their status in the public consciousness. She was an early champion for famous young filmmakers like Martin Scorsese and Brian De Palma, helping films like Means Streets and Carrie to find mass audiences. She demanded the most of these directors, and so long as their sets were well lit, she had a steel stomach for their goriest tendencies. Over twenty years since her death, her taste in crime thrillers remains fresh, and her writing, as ever, is worthy of rereading.

10. Mona Lisa (1986, Neil Jordan)

Pauline Kael “succumbed” to this film, which is to say that she knew better than to really take its bait but couldn’t restrain her indulgent impulses for long. Despite its considerable acclaim (including a spot on BFI’s “Top 100 British Films of the 20th Century” list), Neil Jordan’s noir thriller Mona Lisa provoked dissonant reactions from some of the 1980s’ most influential critics. At one end of the spectrum was Ebert, who awarded the film with his coveted four-star badge, lauding in particular the atmosphere and the masterful performances from stars Bob Hoskins, Cathy Tyson, and Michael Caine. At the other was Vincent Canby of the New York Times, who dismissed the project as “less a true noir film than a comment on one,” arguing that the overly referential script was “as bloodless as an abstract theory.” It was Kael, though, who had her finger on the pulse of this film. How much one enjoys it might be a factor of one’s willingness to submit to thoroughly constructed “kitsch” (as Canby puts it) for the sake of great lighting and some truly dynamic acting.

With her unique brand of heartfelt acidity, Kael crooned that the film “reeks of intellectualized noirishness”—a writer and director overworking the best of decent material. It’s the actors that enliven the story for her. She’s particularly bullish on the unlikely chemistry of George (Hoskins), an aging Cockney criminal with the sentimental spunk of a Jack Russell terrier, and Simone (Tyson), an upper crust sex worker trying to save her friend from a vicious pimp. They collide when George, owed a favor after serving seven years in prison to protect Lord Mortwell (Caine), is given recompense through a chauffeur job. Mortwell tasks him with bringing Simone from client to client.

As their friendship develops, George’s desire to help Simone (and his desire for Simone) bring them deep into a blackmail scheme predictably run by the truly despicable Mortwell. Even if she had no tolerance for kitsch (and she did have some), Kael would have recommended the film simply for the sake of Michael Caine’s malevolent performance. “I can’t recall a screen star of Michael Caine’s rank,” she praised, “who has had the talent and the willingness to play a man so foul and repugnant.” For acting like that, even Kael succumbs.

9. Dressed to Kill (1980, Brian De Palma)

It’s tempting to wonder what Kael would say about De Palma’s thirteenth feature now, over forty years since its theatrical release. Dressed to Kill is a richly layered thriller with a garish sexual politics that would never be greenlit in 2023. Overtly worshipping and satirizing Hitchcock’s Psycho, Dressed to Kill aligns gender dysphoria with psychopathic violence, a long-standing trope reified repeatedly throughout film history.

At the time, none of this mattered to Pauline Kael, whose standing within queer communities was often tenuous anyway. She spent hundreds of words extolling the famous art gallery scene, the smooth introduction of the split diopter (which quickly became a key component of De Palma’s myth), and the performances of Michael Caine, Nancy Allen, Keith Gordon, and Kate Miller. But ultimately, her review is an enshrinement of De Palma himself, whom she admired as much as any American director in her lifetime. She felt that Dressed to Kill signified the arrival of a fully actualized De Palma, an auteur finally in complete control of the narrative and technical tools available to realize his vision.

8. Eyes of Laura Mars (1978, Irvin Kershner)

Kael wrote about Laura Mars in one of her most famous essays on Americans’ post-Vietnam fear of violence in movies. She analyzed the public’s squeamishness around blood and the vulnerability of the body, particularly of the eyes, positing that slitting a throat does not evoke the moralizing horror in audiences so fervently as an attack on the eye. As its moniker suggests, this film is all about eyes, and Kershner’s camera—the only untarnished eye in the film—keeps its gaze locked on everyone else’s.

The original poster is an image of Faye Dunaway’s face darkened nearly to the point of obscurity, with only her eyes bleached so severely that they radiate demonically upon the viewer. The audience is asked again and again to consider its own vision, to question what it means to gaze upon other bodies, upon violence, and upon the things it finds beautiful.

Dunaway’s titular character is a fashion photographer famous for her sexy, gory, and controversial images that sell widely. She also happens to telepathically inhabit the eyes of a murderous maniac as he stalks and kills (by stabbing them in the eye, of course) the people in her artistic circle. The telepathy is completely outside of her control. The visions become more frequent as the killer closes in on her and her closest friends, slowly driving her toward paranoia and isolation. Desperate, she turns to straight-shooting police lieutenant John Neville (Tommy Lee Jones) to help her find the killer. Their ensuing romance both comforts and complicates, culminating in a (highly predictable) twist.

Above all, Kael loved the pace and the performances, as well as the feel of “subterranean sexiness.” She felt that both Dunaway and Jones were perfectly cast: Dunaway because she was “glamorously beat out—just right to be telepathic about killings,” and Jones because of his “cat burglar’s grace, his sunken eyes, rough skin, and jagged lower teeth that suggest a serpent about to snap.” She delights in their chemistry, noting that they are among the most unlikely, yet somehow believable lovers she can recall. And despite being lukewarm on John Carpenter’s script, she ultimately puts the film into conversation with classics like Rosemary’s Baby for its ability to render “justifiable female paranoia” on screen.

7. Pixote (1980, Héctor Babenco)

Labelling Pixote a crime thriller is misleading, although there’s no shortage of crime or shocking (if not thrilling) moments. Héctor Babenco’s hyperreal exploration of poverty, masculinity, queerness, and carcereality in urban Brazil is a brilliant but utterly brutal two hours. This is a film to watch with a blanket and a strong beverage. Prepare to be gutted.

Seen through the eyes of ten year old Pixote (Fernando Ramos da Silva), Babenco takes viewers on a tour of Sao Paolo’s underground for lost boys and trans girls. According to Martin Scorsese (who loves this film), Babenco first attempted to tell this story in documentary form but had to adjust to fiction when a reformatory suddenly stopped cooperating. The film quickly achieved international acclaim, thrusting the Argentinian director into the throes of Hollywood, where he would make prestige movies like Kiss of the Spider Woman and Ironweed.

For her part, Kael was genuinely moved by Pixote, even if she didn’t think it quite raised to the level of a masterpiece. She admired Babenco’s style, spending paragraphs celebrating his atmospheric lighting and the improvisational feel of his images. “The incidents don’t appear to be set up for the camera,” she said, “things just seem to be happening and every image is expressive.” She went on to praise the performances of Jorge Julião as Lilica, a trans girl who partners with and looks out for Pixote, and Marília Pera as Sueli, an eccentric sex worker who plays a key role in the second half of the film. However, while most critics (most notably Vincent Canby) praised da Silva’s acting in the lead role, Kael was less convinced, wondering if the consistently blank stare on his face was more a factor of inexperience than of character.

Any contemporary viewing of Pixote is made all the more devastating by the tragic death of its young star less than a decade after the film’s release. Following the films release, Fernando Ramos da Silva, who came from a background akin to his character’s, was offered roles in prominent Brazilian television shows. Nothing stuck. Scorsese suggests that the teenager was illiterate, which made it difficult for him to memorize lines. After numerous firings, da Silva returned to life on the impoverished margins of Sao Paolo, where he was ultimately killed in a police raid at the age of nineteen. Watching sunset on a Rio beach, Pixote’s friend Lilica sings to him, “The sun still shines on the road I never travelled,” and it hits with a tender, feverish despair.

6. Thieves Like Us (1974, Robert Altman)

Just before she died in 2001, Pauline Kael famously laid bare her feelings about Robert Altman’s peculiar career: “I don’t know how to account for the fact that when he’s good, he’s superb, and when he isn’t good, he’s nothing.” Yet, if she wanted the answer, she needed only to read her own writing from twenty-five years prior. Given her encyclopedic knowledge of American and European film history, perhaps the biggest compliment that Kael could dole out to any director was that they surprised her. Very few filmmakers accomplished this once, let alone repeatedly, but Altman was one of them, and Thieves Like Us, the auteur’s 1974 bank heist thriller, seemed to illuminate to her what made this possible.

“When an artist works right on the edge of his unconscious, like Altman, not asking himself why he’s doing but trusting to instinct (which in Altman’s case is the same as taste), a movie is a special kind of gamble. If Altman fails, his picture won’t have the usual mechanical story elements to carry it, or the impersonal excitement of a standard film. And if he succeeds aesthetically, audiences still may not respond, because the light prodigal way in which he succeeds is alien to them.”

Maybe what seemed alien to Kael about this particular film was that she considered it “the closest to flawless of Altman’s films.” She didn’t like it as much as McCabe & Mrs. Miller, Nashville, or even The Long Goodbye, but she felt that Thieves Like Us was Altman’s most fully conceived work to date. His clear vision, coupled with star making performances from Keith Carradine and Shelly Duvall (who she said “melts indifference” and makes one “unable to repress your response”), made Kael believe that this film would reach audiences in a way that even his previous successes hadn’t. She felt that it would be almost universally beloved, or at the very least, that one would have to “fight hard to resist it.” But for whatever reason, this prediction did not quite stand the test of time.

The heist thriller set in the ‘30s is among the least seen of Altman’s critical successes. It did minimal business at the box office (especially compared to the success of Nashville just one year later), received no awards buzz, and is impossible to find on any streaming service. However, if one does get their hands on an analog copy, Kael would suggest sitting back and enjoying a legendary director at the peak of his powers.

The nominations for the 95th Academy Awards were announced on January 24th, and as usual, there were plenty of major surprises and shocking snubs across all categories that raised some eyebrows and irritated movie fans. All 10 of the Best Picture hopefuls that managed to score a nomination this year, led by the fan-favorite and current frontrunner “Everything Everywhere All at Once”, will be making headlines and enjoying a sweet marketing boost ahead of the March 12 ceremony.

Unfortunately, that means that plenty of Oscar-worthy contenders barely missed the cut or were ignored altogether by the Academy’s voting body in spite of their obvious quality. The reasons tend to repeat themselves every edition: lack of a strong mainstream appeal, a little too small of an awards push, or the inevitable language barrier that handicaps every non-English release. The following list wishes to right that wrong by casting a light upon those titles that couldn’t speed past the finish line but still won our hearts in 2022 and you should make sure to cross off your watchlist.

1. Aftersun

It’s a shame that the Academy voting body couldn’t find room for Charlotte Wells’ remarkably assured directorial debut in its Best Picture line-up, because no other film charmed audiences and tugged at our emotional heartstrings in the past twelve months like this one.

“Aftersun” enthusiasts can at least thank for the much-deserved acting nod for Paul Mescal, who uncorked a near-universally praised performance as a thirty-something divorced dad who spends a summer vacation at a coastal Turkish resort with her preteen daughter (newcomer Frankie Corio, in another star-making turn). Though Wells’ virtuoso directing somehow went unnoticed, time will be much kinder to her deeply moving ’90s-set memoir piece than most of this year’s Oscar hopefuls. Stretching in and out of time like a hazy dream, “Aftersun” is the kind of movie that shatters your heart into a million pieces and forces you to put all the pieces back together. Not to be missed.

2. Decision to Leave

The fact that Park Chan-wook’s romantic crime procedural was completely shutout of the 2023 nominations—let alone the Best Picture race—was by far the most out-of-left-field surprise of all the January announcements. Even premiering to rave reviews at Cannes (where Park earned Best Director honors) and having racked up nominations left and right at the Globes and BAFTAs, the official submission for South Korea somehow went unrecognized in all departments, despite resonating with pundits and moviegoers alike with its cross-pollination of Hitchcockian mystery, romantic longing and film noir tropes.

If not as action-packed as Park’s previous outings, “Decision to Leave”, in which a young detective falls in love with the prime suspect of his homicide case, feels as ferociously irresistible. It’s a testament to the caliber of this year’s best actress’ nominees that Chinese star Tang Wei, who essentially carried the entire movie on her shoulders, couldn’t make the cut in the competitive category. And though her absence is noticeable, the staying power of her scene-stealing turn will not fade anytime soon.

3. Babylon

Seen as an early frontrunner in the Oscar race, Paramount’s $80 million gamble fell short of expectations this awards season after missing out on almost every big category. Damien Chazelle’s go-for-broke, swing-for-the-fences epic about the excesses of silent-era Hollywood sparked rarefied passions upon release, bombing at the box office before becoming an unstoppable discourse magnet in the following months.

That it was denied a Best Picture nod is hardly surprising given its unsavory portrait of Tinseltown, which busts open the inner secrets of show business and casts an unwavering eye at Hollywood’s seedy underbelly. At once suffocating and unwieldy yet admirably ambitious on all fronts, “Babylon” comes across as less of a “love letter” to cinema than a scornful hit-piece that acknowledges the human sacrifice that keeps its dream factory up and running. Those that manage to tune into the film’s coked-up rhythms, however, will find a revelatory text that will surely enhance its prospects for later reassessment.

4. Nope

There was never any doubt that former comedian-turned-horror auteur Jordan Peele would deliver the goods, push boundaries, and dazzle audiences with his long-awaited third feature; a richly-textured, genre-blending odd duck that failed to replicate the critical acclaim of “Get Out” and “Us” but nevertheless delivered some of the best popcorn thrills of all 2022.

Part Spielbergian sci-fi horror hybrid, part revisionist Neo-Western, and part biting Hollywood takedown, “Nope” stars Daniel Kaluuya and Keke Palmer as two siblings in a family of ranch owners in rural California who catch a glimpse at what appears to be a horse-eating flying saucer. By instantly entering cultural lexicon and becoming the most talked about studio release of last summer, this zeitgeist smash seemed on the precipice of nominations—especially in categories like sound editing and original screenplay—but ultimately walked away with none. That takes nothing away from the latest entry in what’s already one of the most intriguing catalogs of any working director, who has established a new cinematic language and further cemented his reputation as a global trendsetter.

5. After Yang

As a huge Kogonada fanboy, I’m still miffed about the shocking lack of fanfare for his sophomore effort, a soul-stirring family drama in which Colin Farrell grapples with the meaning of memory and artificial intelligence after his daughter’s loyal companion android suffers a fatal technical malfunction.

What at first blush might seem like a tired-sounding sci-fi premise better suited for a “Black Mirror” one-episode morphs into a surprisingly tactile examination of love, identity, and the ties that bonds us that delivers its earnest observations with heart-stopping clarity. The early-spring release window meant the film never stood a chance at staying fresh in the voters’ minds when the time came to hand the nominations out, but seeing it entirely ice-out by the Academy, including falling short of a much-deserved Best Adapted Screenplay nod, stings all the same. Oscar or not, any sci-fi aficionado worth their salt owes it to themselves to watch one of the most tender and life-affirming additions to the genre in recent years.

It’s that time of the year again. The nominations for the 95th Academy Awards have been unveiled, and with it a new crop of Best Picture candidates that will be looking to win the top prize in a few months’ time.

As usual, with this exciting news comes a heavy curtain of discourse that will unfold throughout as we approach the finish line of the awards race. Inevitably, there were a number of glaring surprises and head-scratching snubs across all 23 categories that will surely give plenty to talk about in the buildup to the March 12 ceremony. Fortunately, this year’s Best Picture line-up proved to be one of best and most eclectic in recent memory, full of Oscar-worthy titles that stretch from big-budget sequels that dominated the multiplex to unlikely indie darlings that unexpectedly won our hearts. If, like most people, you haven’t had time to catch up with all ten of the nominees, fear not. Here are our rankings of every film that was rewarded a Best Picture nod this year, from worst to best.

10. Elvis

Hate him or love him, you can’t accuse Aussie director Baz Luhrmann of ever lacking in ambition. His latest, an operatic biopic of the King of Rock ’n’ Roll told from the perspective of scheming manager Col. Tom Parker, is less interested in providing any new insights into its larger-than-life subject than engulfing viewers at a purely sensory level.

Shallow and overwrought though “Elvis” may be, it’s hard not to admire the sheer bravado with which Luhrmann swaggers through the film; essentially throwing everything at the wall to see what will stick. Not much actually does, but just enough to nab 8 Oscar nominations including Best Actor for Austin Butler, who seemed to win voters’ hearts with his method-acting tactics. As a regular biopic, the film can hardly be touted as illuminating, and by the umpteenth time it bounces back and forth between flashy montages, Luhrmann’s unwieldy maximalism turns into an unintentional parody of itself. And yet, the result is a cinematic train wreck so daring and provocative that you’ll have a hard time prying your eyes away from it.

9. Top Gun: Maverick

Naval aviator applications reportedly went through the roof in the following year to “Top Gun”, a pro-military recruitment bonanza starring Tom Cruise that became a smash hit back in 1986. In hopes of replicating the success of the original, the Department of Defense provided personnel and equipment—including F-18 fighter jets and aircraft carriers—in exchange for control of the sequel’s script and permission to install recruitment booths inside movie theaters for its premiere.

Rather predictably, “Top Gun: Maverick” hits a lot of similar beats as its Reagan-era predecessor, striking a chord with the masses with its keen focus on camaraderie, masculinity, and old-fashioned patriotism. Wacky Pentagon-approved politics aside, as far as summer crowd-pleasers go, Tom Cruise’s high-flying actioner is an undeniable feat on every technical front, boasting impressive practical effects, stunt work and rousing cockpit fights. It isn’t hard to understand why audiences have responded to the film, and the fact that it’s managed to squeeze into the Oscar race is largely owed to its role in revitalizing movie theaters by raking in almost $1.5 billion worldwide—no small feat in our post-pandemic age.

8. All Quiet on the Western Front

In stark contrast, Edward Berger’s German-language drama wisely refuses to glamorize the mind-numbing horror and meaningless nature of war, providing an unflinching portrait of life in the trenches through the lens of an idealistic teenager who enlists in the Imperial German Army circa 1917.

Based on the same novel as the 1930 Best Picture winner, “All Quiet on the Western Front” sticks closely to its source material despite making a few adjustments, some more successful than others. In hindsight, watching Netflix try to muscle into the Oscar race with “Bardo”, “White Noise”, and “Glass Onion” only to have this middle-of-the-road contender become its unlikely Best Picture hopeful has been nothing short of amusing. That’s not to say the film does not deserve all the nods it received, at least those in technical categories. Unfortunately, it wears its influences on its sleeve; making the eternal mistake of reminding you of similar yet better movies all-around. Gushing comparisons to Elem Klimov’s “Come and See” (perhaps the most enduring bleak antiwar movie ever committed to celluloid), are not completely without merit, but does it no favors.

7. Avatar: The Way of Water

After wasting the last 13 years weighting on the cultural impact, or lack thereof, of the 2009 record-breaking hit “Avatar”, moviegoers were swiftly reminded once again to never bet against James Cameron, a half-man, half-myth who came back to reclaim his box-office crown with “The Way of the Water”.

Catching up with Jake Sully, Neytiri, and the rest of the Na’vi clan, this long-gestating sci-fi follow-up immerses viewers in the alien world of Pandora, making good on its promise as a dazzling sensory spectacle that puts any of today’s CGI-fests to shame with its pioneering VFX tech and eye-popping vistas. Writing has never been Cameron’s forte, and the film’s generic plot and underdeveloped characters are certainly nothing to write home about. That being said, rarely do studio blockbusters feel as textured, wondrous, and transportive as “The Way of Water”—a $400 million vanity project that if nothing else, stands as concrete proof that even today, certain movies are meant to be experienced as big and loud as possible.

6. The Fabelmans

The divorce of Steven Spielberg’s parents has cast a long shadow over almost every entry in his decades-spanning catalog, from “Close Encounters” to “E.T.”, but never had this connection been made so explicit as in “The Fabelmans”, a bittersweet account of the director’s childhood that sketches his privileged upbringing in ’50s Arizona to his first cinematic endeavors as a teenager in Northern California, with a big emphasis on the turbulent relationship between his parents.

“The Fabelmans” is pretty much what one would expect a Spielberg prestige drama to be—masterfully crafted, passionate, and full of career-best performances, yes, but also self-aggrandizing and schmaltzy to a fault. The fact that several filmmakers, from Charlotte Wells to James Gray and Richard Linklater excavated their own hazy childhood memories within the past year does not help its chances. Neither does the fact that its nomination came over flawed yet braver meditations on cinema like “Nope” and “Babylon”. And yet, for all the film’s shortcomings, watching an eye-patched, cigar-smoking David Lynch steal the show in an unexpected cameo role as John Ford was one of this year’s purest delights.

When people think of the golden age of comedy movies, they often reference the Marx Brothers’ 1930s or Bill Murray’s 1980s. Some critics relish in assigning reductive, patronising labels: “you couldn’t make a film like that any more,” “it was of its time,” “that was back when movies were still good,” “the industry was different then,” etc. These stock quotes come across as uneducated and narrow-minded. They’re deployed when journalists are too lazy to spend the time to comprehend a piece’s worth. Such flippant remarks have ruined the reputations of many excellent films that audiences would otherwise love, if they hadn’t been turned against them.

Although there are movies that do feel of their time, by and large, the quality of a piece is not dependent on the era in which it was made. Instead, this is attributable to the creativity, passion and hard work of those who made it. There have been brilliant movies produced in every single decade since cinema was born, regardless of what was transpiring in the world. To say that high calibre films could only be made in a specific decade is to say delicious bread could only be baked in the 1870s and all bread since then has been inedible.

The late-‘90s through the 2000s are perceived as the most-recent belle époque of comedy films. That said, the 2010s also boasts its own hefty share of list-topping gems. Most comedy fans are familiar with the popular titles of this decade: Hot Tub Time Machine or Adam Sandler’s Happy Madison productions. However, there are a multitude of other 2010s comedies that remain surprisingly overlooked, in need of the audiences they deserve. Some of the best comedies of all-time were released in that decade, but so many of them have been unjustly dismissed.

1. Our Idiot Brother (Jesse Peretz, 2011)

Ned Rochlin (Paul Rudd), an adorable hippie, is coaxed into selling cannabis to a uniformed police officer. Following his release from the penitentiary, Ned discovers that his girlfriend, Janet (Kathryn Hahn), has a new boyfriend (T.J. Miller) and she is evicting Ned from his own farm. Janet prevents Ned from seeing his best friend, a dog named Willie Nelson, ever again. Whilst couch-surfing between his three sisters’ (Elizabeth Banks, Emily Mortimer, Zooey Deschanel) New York City homes, Ned sets out on a quest to get his dog back. Simultaneously, his propensity for blabbing other people’s secrets sparks an emotional upheaval within his family.The film’s realistic story is a comedy of the purest Shakespearian definition: a misunderstanding leads to increasing worry and stress for the characters, before they collide at a revealing climax.

What makes Ned hilarious is, despite his lovely intentions, his innocent, trusting nature results in disaster wherever he goes. When he drops his coffee on the subway, he hands a stranger a thick wad of cash to hold while he picks it up. No other actor could have endowed Ned with the same humanity as comedy legend Paul Rudd. Ned may be his finest and most meaningful role. Aside from the expert work by Rashida Jones, Adam Scott, Steve Coogan and This Is Us’s Sterling K. Brown, a particular acting highlight comes from the late Shirley Knight as Ned’s mother. She always brings a glass of wine with her when she tucks Ned into bed.

In similarity to the Dude in The Big Lebowski, Ned is a paradoxically inspirational character, echoing Zen Buddhist philosophy. Despite his many adversities, Ned stays empty of worry, as though enlightened. He is never cruel nor bitter, remaining cheery, friendly and generous to everyone he meets. Ned shows us that a person’s worth is not in their career, bank balance or appearance – it is in the depth of their kindness. Ned may be a freewheeling, unemployed bohemian, but he isn’t ashamed of it. He humbly accepts and appreciates himself for who he is, as he does others, without judgement. His focus is on love and enjoying life.

The message of this film is one of unity, of putting aside ego, prejudices and past squabbles to improve relationships. The title Our Idiot Brother is an ironic one, as Ned is ultimately the least idiotic character in the film. Ned is a role-model who demonstrates how to treat others with kindness and understanding. How to “give people the benefit of the doubt” and see them “rise to the occasion.” Ned is someone to aspire to be. Our Idiot Brother is a charming film with laughs to spare, which will give comfort and inspiration to those struggling to get ahead. It is as sweet and funny as it is wise and medicinal.

2. The Watch (Akiva Schaffer, 2012)

This sci-fi buddy comedy was written by Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg – the minds behind Superbad and Pineapple Express. Evan Trautwig (Ben Stiller) manages a Costco store in the suburban idyll of Glenview, Ohio. Arriving at work one day, he learns of the death of his friend and colleague Antonio Guzman (Joe Nunez). With the aim of bringing Antonio’s killer to justice, Evan forms a neighbourhood watch: a wise-cracking, misfit brigade consisting of Bob, Franklin and Jamarcus (Vince Vaughn, Jonah Hill, Richard Ayoade), who only enlist for the craic and the beers. However, their investigation soon leads them to an alien who has invaded the town.

As with his finest, most energetic comedy work in Wedding Crashers, Vince Vaughn is at the top of his game in The Watch, boasting many of the film’s funniest, most quotable lines. When he discovers his daughter is dating, he rants: “Who’s your toy boy? What’s his Toy Story?” Likewise, Jonah Hill is also at his funniest, rivalling his work in The Wolf of Wall Street: “Look at my words and listen to his face.” Much of The Watch’s comedy is the banter exchanged between the colourful characters, as well as their foolhardy handling of the alien invasion. The film’s funniest moment comes when the watch pose for selfies with the alien they think is dead, adorn it with sunglasses, a cigar and a sombrero, before slow dancing with it.

Ben Stiller, under-revered for his ability to synthesise the necessities of the ‘straight man’ role with subtle behavioural humour, provides the heart of the film. Aside from the core theme of friendship, The Watch is about Evan being unable to tell his wife Abby (Rosemary DeWitt) that he’s been diagnosed as sterile, his sadness and feelings of failure. When the couple begin to engage in a dialogue about the subject, the film’s worth is revealed. It contains a moral about the importance of communication and honesty in relationships and how to be understanding of other people’s issues.

Upon its release, The Watch was received with unfair indifference. However, if you’re a fan of the Frat Pack and Apatow Mafia comedy teams, this is an essential laugh riot, combining the best of both schools. It also delivers a captivating, action-packed popcorn plot to quench buffs of relatable sci-fi and mystery. It is a film deserving of reappraisal, for being a chapter of Seth Rogen and the Frat Pack’s funniest work.

3. Dark Shadows (Tim Burton, 2012)

Dark Shadows is based on the late-‘60s, early-‘70s TV serial of the same name and sees Tim Burton’s gothic-comedy vision in full-bloom. In Maine, 1972, an 18th century English vampire named Barnabas Collins (Johnny Depp) is unearthed after enduring two centuries entombed inside a coffin. He returns to his family mansion, where he meets his descendants (Michelle Pfeiffer, Chloë Grace Moretz, Johnny Lee Miller). Barnabas attempts to reinvigorate the family fishing business, in hope of restoring the Collinses to their former prosperity. Soon, the immortal witch who cursed him with vampirism, Angie (Eva Green), resumes her vendetta-charged mission to destroy Barnabas and everyone he loves.

Johnny Depp is an actor who has not been recognised as the comedy genius he is. He punches at the same weight as any of the iconoclastic maestros, from Groucho Marx to Leslie Nielsen. In the past, he’s been miscast in overly-serious roles, which feel contrary to his personality and skillset. However, when Depp lets his comic instincts flow with characters like Jack Sparrow or Barnabas Collins, the results are consistently hilarious.

Aside from Tim Burton’s hyperbolic production design, the comedy of Dark Shadows lurks in screenwriter Seth Grahame-Smith’s dialogue, brought to life by Johnny Depp’s side-splitting delivery. An 18th century vampire discovering the 1970s serves as the ultimate fish out of water comedy. Barnabas fills the film with his outdated observations of the modern world, in a stream of endlessly quotable, laugh-out-loud lines. For instance, he asks his relative Carolyn (Chloë Grace Moretz): “what is your age, if I may?” “Fifteen,” Carolyn replies. “Fifteen and no husband?!”

Like Johnny Depp, Dark Shadows has been overlooked as a comedy masterpiece. What is more, with its milky, Hammer-esque cinematography and cauldron of werewolves, witches and vampires, it is certified to delight horror fans. If the film’s remit is to make audiences laugh, Barnabas Collins achieves this tenfold. It is one of the funniest comedies of the 2010s.

4. Are You Here (Matthew Weiner, 2013)

This film stars comedy heavyweights Owen Wilson and Zach Galifianakis as best friends Steve Dallas and Ben Baker. Steve is a promiscuous, easygoing weatherman. Ben is unemployed and struggles with the depression induced by his bipolar disorder. When Ben’s father dies, the friends road trip to Ben’s family home in Amish country, Pennsylvania. Whilst his sister, Terry (Amy Poehler), fights him over the inheritance, Ben stays at the family farm, in the care of Steve and Ben’s attractive young stepmother Angela (Laura Ramsey). As Ben’s mental health worsens, he wages an erratic ideological crusade against capitalism.

In addition to the entertaining performances you’d expect from Wilson, Galifianakis and Poehler (including a ‘crawfish in a car trunk’ highlight), Are You Here is notable because it contains a message of sociological depth. Ben represents the radical left, viewing capitalism and industry as evils – destroying the environment and enslaving people’s minds. He remains perpetually under attack from society for his revolutionary opinions, mental health issues and slacker lifestyle. His sister Terry represents the right wing, due to her love of money and desire to expand her late father’s business empire. Steve signifies a liberal, seeing the qualities in both perspectives, yet feels conflicted over his allegiance.

The film contrasts the west’s capitalism with the alternative lifestyles of the Amish and the hippies, to ask the questions: are those with different perspectives and lifestyles to the norm incorrect? Who is ‘normal?’ Should we all conform to popular ideas, or should we make our own paths? What is the ideal way for us all to live? Contemplating his life choices, Ben looks at an Amish horse and buggy clopping down the street. He then peers over at a mechanical toy horse for children to ride, chugging in simulacra of a real horse.

It may not be as good as Wilson, Galifianakis and Poehler’s best work, but Are You Here’s abysmal rating on Rotten Tomatoes is both unfair and wildly inaccurate for an entertaining comedy with something this meaningful to say.

5. Dead Snow 2: Red vs. Dead (Tommy Wirkola, 2014)

In the first instalment of Dead Snow, in classical slasher fashion, a gaggle of young adults sojourn to a remote cabin in the snowy fjords of Norway. Inside, they come upon a chest of Nazi gold. Naturally, an army of Nazi zombies rise from the snow and bombard the cabin.

In Dead Snow 2, the Nazi zombies are marching for the village of Talvik. During the Second World War, Hitler tasked them with destroying Talvik and all its inhabitants. Martin Hykkerud (Vegar Hoel), the protagonist from the first film, resurrects a regiment of Soviet zombies to defeat them. In a playground, an epic zombie battle ensues.

An improvement on its predecessor, Dead Snow 2, next to Cockneys vs. Zombies is one of the finest zombie comedies. The star of this film is the dry Norwegian humour, typified by the scene-stealing Christian Rubeck as the clueless policeman. Horror movie tropes are subverted with the humorous mundanity of everyday life. The zombie’s have an absurd contrast with the folksy, cutesy, perpetually good-natured rural Norwegians.

Like Robert Rodriguez, director Tommy Wirkola has the surprising skill for making his scenes gory yet comedic at the same time. His satire is savage: a wheelchair user is abandoned by her carer to be disembowelled by Nazi zombies, while her carer flees. The film is brimming with moments like this, where audiences are torn between gasping, screaming or laughing at the nerve of the script. Every scene in the movie is imbued with highly-inventive creative details. This originality revitalises a genre that has been largely stagnant since George Romero mastered it. The film’s pace of action is matched by the frequency of its jokes.

Through this project, Wirkola put himself forward as a leading contemporary director of horror-comedies. More recently, he’s received the international exposure he deserves, in his novel Netflix thriller The Trip and 2022’s Santa Claus slasher Violent Night. Dead Snow 2 is guaranteed to supply raucous, blood-spattered, zombie-driven laughs, if that’s something you’d enjoy.

Baltimore native John Waters made both “Pink Flamingos,” one of the most censored and shocking films ever, and the beloved family-friendly film with a positive message, “Hairspray.” Dubbed by the press, critics, fellow filmmakers, and fans: “The Prince of Puke,” “The Pope of Trash,” “Anal Anarchist” and the “Ayatollah of Crud,” he has more titles than any member of the House of Windsor. From September 17, 2023 – August 4, 2024, he and his work will be honored by The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences with an exhibit at their newly opened Museum of Motion Pictures. It will be called, appropriately, “John Waters: Pope of Trash.”

Inspired by the underground films of Andy Warhol, the Kuchar brothers, and Kenneth Anger; the exploitation movies of Russ Meyer; the lurid gore of Herschell Gordon Lewis; and international films like “I Am Curious (Yellow),” Waters began making movies as a teenager with an 8mm camera at his parents’ house. He called his production company, “Dreamland Studios”. His roster of talent was made up of childhood friends and neighbors. Over a career spanning more than half a century, so far, he has made 12 feature films. Comedies, a musical, a melodrama, the uncategorizable. But one thing they all have in common are protagonists who, as Waters said of his leading man Divine, “… represented to any kind of rebel somebody that could win.”

12. Mondo Trasho (1969)

“This whole thing has just made me sick.”

Waters’ first feature film, by his own admission, should have been 10 minutes rather than 95. There is some amusing and badly dubbed dialogue, but it is essentially a silent film overlayed with a soundtrack that includes James Brown, Merle Haggard, Frank Sinatra, Little Richard, and more (which could explain its current unavailability). It is lacking that essential feature of any Waters film, quotability. Instead, we get the barely-there story of The Bombshell (Mary Vivian Pearce), who has a sexual encounter with a foot fetishist before being run over by Divine (movie star potential already undeniable), who is distracted by imagining a hitchhiker naked while driving a red 1959 Cadillac convertible. The day gets worse for them both as they are locked in an insane asylum, experimented on by a demented doctor (played by David Lochary), experience religious visions, and finally die writhing in the fetid muck of a pigsty.

Two things separate Waters from many other underground and independent filmmakers: the coherence of three act structure storytelling and a lack of pretentiousness. Despite the presence of Divine in his first feature film role, and common themes of latter Waters films such as the sacrilegious uses of Catholic imagery, and ridiculous sex, “Mondo Trasho” feels more like an early Warhol film than a latter Waters one; incoherent and possibly even pretentious. It still has some laughs, like when a terribly dubbed licking sound, (done to better effect later in “Female Trouble”) is played as Pearce is shrimped (foot sucked) in the park.

11. Cecil B. Demented (2000)

“Demented Forever!”

Like Waters’ other recent films, “Cecil B. Demented” has a great “high concept” that it never quite lives up to. While in Baltimore for the premiere of her latest studio film, leading lady (and absolute monster) Honey Whitlock, is kidnapped by a cinema-obsessed cult who forces her to star in their underground film.

It stars Melanie Griffith, Stephen Dorff, and a bunch of other familiar faces from the Hollywood studio system the film skewers. It’s supposed to be dangerous, but it doesn’t feel dangerous. Waters did ask Mink Stole to set her hair on fire for “Pink Flamingos,” but in the end she sensibly backed out. Here, Cecil convinces Honey to do the same for his film, which is achieved by special effects, relying in the end on the sleight of hand of the institution it is rebelling against.

10. A Dirty Shame (2004)

“Let’s go sexin’!”

Waters’ last feature to date again has a clever concept, but it just doesn’t quite ever gel. Citizens of a quiet suburb turn into raving sex addicts when accidentally hit on the head.

Johnny Knoxville plays the leader of a sex cult waiting for the one who will invent an entirely new sex act. Sylvia Stickles (Tracey Ullman) is the dowdy housewife who proves to be that one after a whack on the head sends her prowling through the neighborhood deep in heat and looking for a good time.

Selma Blair is great as Sylvia’s daughter, “Ursula Udders,” who is a big attraction down at the strip join because of her very big attractions. The Hokey Pokey scene at the nursing home truly is hilarious. And the unexpected cameo by Jean Hill is a delight for Waters fans. But it all just gets very repetitive. People are hit on the head and become sex maniacs. Then they are hit on the head again and become uptight, cold fish. Then another hit and it’s back to nymphomania. And each time this happens there is music and a bunch of campy old visuals and it’s just not amusing after about half-way through the first time it’s done.

There is also a lot of magical stuff that happens. CGI animals screwing, CGI tongues wagging, levitation. As obsessed as Waters is with Catholicism, it’s always presented not just to ridicule, but with an Atheistic point of view. You can usually explain away the visions, etc. Here, magical occurrences happen and are integral to the plot. “Flamingos Forever”, the unmade sequel to “Pink Flamingos”, also had a lot of this, ending with Divine and her family riding away on a giant flying turd. When he couldn’t get funding, he made “Hairspray”. Probably for the best.

9. Cry Baby (1990)

“Sometimes shook-up old ladies get cut!”

Waters’ follow-up to his hit “Hairspray” is a musical starring Johnny Depp, Ricki Lake, and Traci Lords. It’s the 1950s and bad boy “drape” Wade “Cry-Baby” Walker (Depp) is in love with Allison (Amy Locane), the beautiful granddaughter of Mrs. Vernon-Williams (a perfectly cast Polly Bergen), the old money owner of the local charm school where they do things like sing Mr. Sandman in barbershop quartets. But Allison wants to break bad, and Cry-Baby can sense it.

It’s Romeo and Juliet in the 50s with music. Instead of the Montagues and Capulets we’ve got “Drapes” and “Squares.” Thankfully Cry-Baby and Allison’s love wins, and the squares are defeated. Lords is fun as the bad girl daughter of clueless middle-class parents and Mink Stole’s appearance in an iron lung, smoking up a storm, is a hoot. Iggy Pop and Susan Tyrrell as a couple is good fun (go now and watch her in the “Angel” films) and apparently her on-set antics shocked even the Pope of Trash himself. But it feels as if it’s trying more to replicate the mainstream success of “Hairspray” than it wants to make you laugh.

8. Pecker (1998)

“I hate modern photography!”

Seven years after fighting a liquid metal terminator in “Terminator 2: Judgement Day” Edward Furlong starred as the Pecker (he pecked as his food as a kid) of the title. As in Waters’ other late career films, it’s got a great idea, familiar faces, (Christina Ricci, Martha Plimpton, Lili Taylor) playing quirky characters, and magical stuff really happening (a statue of Mary starts blabbering on). “Pecker” is perhaps best-known for popularizing the term “tea-bagging” (if you don’t know, Google it!), that would come in handy in politics about ten years later. It is a sweet film with some good laughs.

Pecker is a lower middle-class kid who finds a beat-up camera in his mother’s secondhand store and becomes an overnight sensation in the rarified New York art world with the pictures he takes of his snarling neighbors, lesbian strippers, and fornicating rats. Lured to the bright lights of the Big Apple, Pecker’s brief flirtation with fame, and his art dealer (Taylor), brings pain to those he loves. So, he returns to Baltimore and demands that the Manhattanites come to him if they want to see his work, where they learn to loosen up and party like they do in Baltimore. Down and dirty! It’s almost like the Dreamlanders (the cast and crew of Waters’ early films) getting to show Warhol’s superstars how it’s really done.

7. Multiple Maniacs (1970)

“The sleaziest show on earth!”

With this follow-up to the shaky start that was “Mondo Trasho” Waters gives us a full-fledged Waters classic. The film that introduced both Edith Massey and Cookie Mueller to moviegoers is quotable (“You’ve driven me from my own home” or “I want to perform acts with you.”), hilarious, shocking, and the most blasphemous film you will ever see! For fans of Waters’ films, it’s not just the brilliance of the lines he writes, it’s the way his actors deliver them. Massey’s screechy voice, Mueller’s thick Baltimore accent, Divine’s confident and belligerent bellowing. It’s all part of the magic.

Shot in black and white, which gives it a gritty documentary feel, “Multiple Maniacs” tells the story of Lady Divine, who travels around the country with her Cavalcade of Perversion luring unsuspecting victims with promises of watching The Puke Eater, pornographers, gay men French kissing, drug attics going through withdrawal, and other assorted horrors that fascinate and repel the middle class. They get a show, then the main attraction, Divine herself, assaults and robs them. But there’s trouble brewing. Divine is sick of it all. Her real passion is murder, (Why not ditch the Cavalcade and just shoot people and rob them?) and her boyfriend, Mr. David, is having an affair with Bonnie (Pearce). On her way to catch them in the act Divine is gang raped then led to the safety of a church by a vision of the Infant of Prague. – If you’ve ever seen a statue or picture of this child saint in the home of a non-religious person, I bet this film is why! – There she meets Mink, aka “The Religious Whore,” (Stole) who dresses in a turban and mink fur like a silent movie star and lives in churches. She bends our plump starlet over in the pew and gives her a “Rosary Job” during which Divine imagines the Stations of the Cross.

Jesus Christ (George Figgs) feeds the multitudes with loaves of Wonder Bread and cans of tuna before being humiliated and nailed to the cross as his mother Mary (Massey) wails. Then a junkie shoots up (for real) on the altar and Divine and Mink head back to Divine’s daughter’s (Mueller) house where everyone dies. Divine carves out organs like an Aztec priest in drag, gobbles them up, and goes insane. She’s raped by a 14-foot lobster (created by another important addition to the Dreamland team, designer Vincent Peranio) and then is gunned down by the National Guard. Whew!

Now streaming on HBO Max. Seriously!