Sir Christopher Lee – the actor who stood at 6ft 4 and starred in over 200 movies – was not only a cinematic titan who towered in the literal sense, but one who reached the heights of consummate merit and tremendous skill. In his lengthy filmography he was bound to feature in a few filmic duds – but never once in his career did he ever give a bad performance. Look back on any of his films and you will see how his charisma and commitment to the most bizarre lines of clunky dialogue are always treated with the upmost reverence and sincerity. Simply put, Christopher Lee was a rare breed of actor that elevated every film he featured in.

As J. R. R. Tolkien’s Saruman and George Lucas’s Count Dooku he won legions of new fans in his later career. But it was Count Dracula that first immortalised him as a pop culture legend, with Bram Stoker’s vampire one of the many horror roles he would come to play. Indeed, there is no actor who better represents the horror genre in its principle of the fantastic, its power to frighten, and its promise to entertain. Having passed away in 2015, Sir Lee has left a resplendent legacy of horror movies that continue to be enjoyed today. His films are required viewing for any self-respecting horror fan and those who love to be scared.

10. House of the Long Shadows (1983)

American author Kenneth Magee (Desi Armaz) intends to write a classic gothic novel in one night during his stay in a ruinous Welsh manor. Things naturally go askew when the grizzly Brisbane family, who have haunted the manor for generations, decide to hold a reunion.

This horror comedy’s moderate twists hardly compensate for its tame thrills, meandering pace, and wooden acting from an unlikable Armaz. But we’re not watching this film for him or any of the other young performers who pepper this spooky story. Oh no. However cheesy this movie is, it is made watchable by featuring the great Mount Rushmore of horror actors – Christopher Lee, Peter Cushing, Vincent Price, and John Carradine – all together in one picture for the first and only time. As viewers we are witnessing the Brisbane reunion, but as horror fans we are enjoying the assembling of these friends and masters of the field of fright.

These four acclaimed veterans electrify the film with their excellent dynamic chemistry, deliciously chewing scenes with as much gusto as to be expected. Cushing’s comedic role is particularly wonderful, as of course is Lee – in one scene wielding a rather awesome medieval axe that – to the film’s credit – is used to great gory affect. It is a joy to see all of these players in one picture, so enjoy it for that. A meeting of the greats, worth the watch for any diehard horror fan. Vincent Price calling Christopher Lee a “bitch” is not to be missed!

9. Horror Express (1972)

Professor Alexander Saxton (Christopher Lee) and Dr Wells (Peter Cushing) are two rival anthropologists who join forces on the Trans-Siberian Express when the cargo of a frozen ape thaws from a thousand-year sleep, renewing its bloodlust to devour, destroy and possess…

Lee and Cushing are always a devilishly good duo, proving to be one of the great cinematic pairings for the ages. Moreover, director Eugenio Martin orchestrates a zipping spirit of romance and adventure, from the journey into a Manchurian cave that displays the frozen ape in all its gruesome glory, to the opulent oriental train and its plush dinning hall, reminiscent of an Agatha Christie novel. Telly Savalas helps this film reach peak 70s by playing a crazed Cossak officer, bringing extra swash-buckle to a romp that can be too goofy for its own good.

Its extra-terrestrial twist may be strange, even silly, but its choice to venture into the realm of science fiction is also bold and commendable, helped by the film’s makeup excellence and an unwillingness to shy from the violent conquests of this otherworldly being, akin to Alien (1979) avant la lettere. Yes, its ambition is overwrought, the cause for its muddled ideas – all at once being a creature feature, a zombie flick, a science fiction film, and a period piece set in the Edwardian Era – but never once does it fail to be an entertaining ride for horror fans…

8. The Curse of Frankenstein (1957)

The first Hammer film to feature on this list, and certainly not the last. This British production company was instrumental in shaping horror throughout the 1950s and 60s, with the mighty Christopher Lee being one of its principal players. Here he plays Mary Shelley’s monster opposite Peter Cushing’s ambitious Victor Frankenstein. The film is strongly reverent to the novel which is certainly its greatest strength. Its retrospective storytelling and focus on the more monstrous side of the creator than his creation, from orphaned boy to cold-blooded scientist, charts an overall tremendous tale of temptation and transgression.

That is not to say that this bildungsroman forgets to be horrific and bloody, with crimson reds and green laboratory vats being Hammer’s speciality. Director and acclaimed horror filmmaker Terence Fisher does not shy from his predilection for violence. Brains are bludgeoned against walls, eyeballs are dissected on, and a body is sent flying down the stairs.

Yet the film’s ultimate grotesque is found in Christopher Lee’s creature – his grey decaying skin and marionette movements galvanising an ungainly horrific afterlife. It is a shame that Lee does not have much to do, appearing only in the last 30 minutes, which will be frustrating to those who come to see a Frankenstein movie and are eagerly awaiting the creature’s arrival. Nevertheless, a fun, violent, charming adaption of Shelley’s novel.

7. The Mummy (1958)

When the mummified Kharis (Christopher Lee) is disturbed by unruly archaeologists, this ancient high-priest vows to hunt and punish those who disturbed his eternal beauty sleep.

Once again, Hammer virtuoso Terence Fisher is our director, not only delivering hammy horror, but also crafting a film that is rich in its world-building, from frequent mention of Egyptian mythos to actualising that mythos through stunning set designs of tombs and temples, offering an ancient world of gold and bronze, brimming in Egyptian iconography.

Christopher Lee’s mummy is something of a marvel, giving the classic monster a much needed thunderous physicality that was never seen before – something to be applauded, considering most of his acting is done only through his eyes, which gleam between the bandages like wet scarab beetles under a Cairo sun. The costume itself is excellent. Both pulpy and muddy, the look, feel and actions of the mummy have never been more terrifying. Lee plays him as an unstoppable force. Gone is the expected lethargic snail-speed – here is a creature hell-bent on causing terror, smashing walls, strangling men – and in one memorable sequence breaking into an asylum and killing a delirious old man. Truly terrifying stuff…

6. Dracula (1958)

Certainly Christopher Lee had many iconic roles throughout his long distinguished career; but the first one, and arguably his most indelible portrayal, is of course Count Dracula. This 1958 Hammer production, once again directed by the tremendous Terence Fisher, is a very faithful gothic retelling of Bram Stoker’s work, before Lee would return to Dracula in a number of sequels that worsened in quality, much to the chagrin of the actor and his fans. Here, however, Lee is mesmeric as the Count, filling doorways with his impressive stature. Seemingly courteous and civilised, there is an overall sneaky feline quality to his performance. Yes, he can be loquacious when he needs to be, but privately he stalks the night like a libidinous beast, lecherously baring his fangs before pouncing on his prey’s jugular.

There is also the matter of Lee excelling in the Count’s aristocratic nature – this being an incarnation who keeps a personal well-stocked library to while away the hours. Lee expertly embodies this yesteryear quality, his dusty deterioration being a fitting end for such a relic. His final fight scene with Peter Cushing’s Van Helsing is a sensational marriage of stunt work and special effects; and though his screen time as the Count is limited in this film, the actor’s charismatic presence is always felt. That being said, whilst his performance is unforgettable, there were other less-heralded, meatier roles for Lee to sink his teeth into…

War and Horror are subjects that one might assume go hand in hand, but in the world of film, well made war-horror hybrids are surprisingly rare. While the integration of war subjects with horror elements is common in novels, comics and graphic novels, in film the genre has become a niche filled mostly by independent and lower-budget productions, at times merging with the gore or splatter genre which, if not done well, can detract from the seriousness of the subject matter. But aside from the less-inspired examples, this mixed bag of a genre contains some notable achievements in war-horror composition, as well as some larger-scale Hollywood features that grace the genre with more subtle aspects of the two themes, combining them with other elements such as fantasy, action and suspense. The better examples, in many cases, are good enough to warrant further exploration of the hybrid, often highlighting the horrors of war in unique ways that are both realistic and fantastical, as well as frightening.

When done well, the war-horror film can be a memorable foray into the darkest areas of the human psyche, combining the fear of our enemies with the unlimited fear of our own imagination. And the following examples each have their own unique way of merging these classic cinematic themes into something original, giving audiences all the terror and anxiety they would expect from a horror film, but with the added tension, violence and paranoia of a wartime setting.

1. The Keep (1983)

Horror films were common throughout the 1980s, and there were a few films during the period with war and horror elements (“Predator,” for example), but “The Keep” stands out for its dynamic soundtrack and unique combination of World War II themes with Jewish mythology. When Nazis unleash an ancient destructive force from a castle in Romania (i.e “the Keep”), the slaughter that ensues calls for a rather unlikely solution, a partnership between a Jewish scholar and Nazi soldiers on the run.

“The Keep,” one of Director Michael Mann’s first feature films (after his debut “Thief” in 1981), is based on a novel by Francis Paul Wilson, a writer known for exploring the idea of antagonism as a complex theme involving the forced cooperation of traditional enemies against a more destructive, ultimate adversary capable of indiscriminate violence. The story of “The Keep” draws on the Jewish mythological archetype of the Golem, a clay figure that rises to avenge past wrongs (usually wrongs perpetrated against the Jewish people). But vengeance isn’t enough for the entity of “the Keep,” as a desire for more power and freedom pits the spirit against the scholar and his family, and threatens the lives of nearby villagers. This parallel between the unchecked power of a supernatural force and the unchecked power of Nazism is an example of the layered thematic structures of war-horror films. And with theme music and incidental airs by soundtrack masters Tangerine Dream, the film has some high quality marks for style as well as direction. While not a major Hollywood production, “The Keep” holds its ground as an iconic ‘80s war-horror benchmark, a place where the genre began its development into the slick, CG-enhanced hybrid we see more often today.

2. Overlord (2018)

Going from 1983 all the way to 2018 can be a bit of a culture shock in the world of cinema, but even 35 years after “The Keep,” films like “Overlord” still hold fast to the characteristic tropes of their antecedents. Directed by Australian filmmaker Julius Avery, “Overlord” is a fitting example of the CG-enhanced hybrid I mentioned above, complete with close-up HD gore, startling frights and plenty of potentially fatal mistakes along the way to a blood-soaked finale. But despite the action-heavy plot, the film stays true to its war-horror roots, keeping the light down when it counts and providing a stunning ambient soundtrack by music producer Jed Kurzel, the man behind the ominous sounds of the “Alien: Covenant.” and brother of Director Justin Kurzel (“Macbeth,” “The Turning”). Much more fast-paced than films like “The Keep,” “Overlord” still makes time for atmospheric tension and suspense building, both crucial elements in horror but especially in war-horror, where constant danger is part of the setting as well as the plot.

Part of a recently popularized sub-genre of Nazi zombie films (see “Dead Snow” below), “Overlord” takes the concept further with Nazi super-soldier zombies created by science and medical experiments similar to those made infamous by figures like Josef Mengele, a.k.a the “Angel of Death.” The plot follows American soldiers who end up at the central laboratory where these monstrosities are being created, making their world deadly on two fronts: facing the Nazis as well as their creations. “Overlord” may have a somewhat typical Hollywood action plot pitting forces of good against evil, but the horror elements are highly memorable due to the formidable concept of a Nazi image wrapped in a super-villain zombie enigma. Furthermore, the idea of Nazi mad scientists who would create such a force of evil is in some ways more terrifying than their products.

3. Trench 11 (2017)

The ratio between World War I and World War II films is extremely skewed, as the Second World War seems to be much more ingrained in the western consciousness and more pervasive in popular culture. But films like “Trench 11,” directed by Canadian writer and producer Leo Scherman, are rare examples of World War I horror, taking the dark and fearful elements of classic chillers into the trenches of the 20th century’s first major international conflict. Although similar to films like “Overlord” in its use of crazed or affected soldier bodies as zombie-like antagonists, the “monsters” of ‘Trench 11” are caused by a biological weapon taking the form of a parasitic worm that can burrow into the brain and cause insanity (similar to the parasites in other films such as “Star Trek: The Wrath of Kahn”). The action in “Trench 11” takes place in tunnels underground, emphasizing the horror effects and giving the film a claustrophobic atmosphere one might expect on the front lines of the war. The trenches alone are horrible enough, but going beneath them into tunnels filled with infected undead Nazis is another experience altogether.

In “Trench 11” we have both a setting archetype and a host of antagonists that, while not undead, are similar in behavior and appearance to war zombies in other films. Together, these elements provide a familiar pattern but a unique sense of terror analogous to a nightmare. The darkness under the trenches, along with the unsettling odds of a few soldiers against hordes of crazed enemies, creates an overall feeling of loss, anxiety and disorientation, exactly what you want from a horror film and especially from a war-horror film.

4. R Point (2004)

The Vietnam War was a dark moment in world history and an extremely complicated conflict that had many political and cultural parallels with the Korean War that preceded it. Thus, as a setting for a war-horror film, Vietnam provides a dark, tense atmosphere that evokes a sense of panic and groundlessness from the outset. The film “R Point,” directed by Korean filmmaker Kong Su-chang, is a case in point, beginning as a mission film set during the final year of the conflict. Unlike the thriller and action examples mentioned above, “R Point” has a more subdued pace that is intermittently punctuated with haunting events and foreshadowing. As the plot develops, the haunting events become the focal point of the mission, and survival becomes the only objective.

Stylistically, “R Point” is very different from its action-and-gore counterparts in Hollywood, but it still shares many of the traditional horror film traits that are instantly recognizable to western audiences. Along with the high-pitched incidental music that accompanies the many apparitions and possessions that occur at the R Point base, an altered point of view in the form of a green tint gives the impression of a spectral observer from afar. A classic example of dramatic irony, the tinted scenes give the audience a view that is separate from those of the protagonists and likely from the perspective of the spirits who haunt them, one of many techniques that help elevate the production value and make the film a cult classic among war-horror enthusiasts.

5. Brotherhood of the Wolf (2001)

Certainly a rarity among war-horror settings, “The Brotherhood of the Wolf,” directed by Christopher Gans, takes place during the French Revolution, a period of great turmoil, horrendous violence and longstanding social unrest. The “beast attacks” depicted in the film are based on the legend of the man-eating beast of Gévaudan, a series of gruesome deaths that the legend claims were caused by a large wolf, though historical documents are inconclusive. The legend alone provides more than enough material for a good horror film, but the additional context of the bloody Revolution and its many secret societies conspiring against one another make “Brotherhood of the Wolf” a highly unique hybrid, especially when considering the action sequences, martial arts and dueling that make the film visually exciting as well as frightful.

Outside of the horror scenes, “Brotherhood of the Wolf ” has the appearance of a period drama, which helps establish a sense of mystery around the killings. One of the reasons this contrast works so well is cinematographer Dan Laustsen’s use of subtle focus shifts and setting highlights. “Brotherhood” is full of mountain fog, chateau courtyards and great expanses of wilderness. Between Laustsen’s dim-lit tracking shots and Gans’s penchant for artful choreography, “Brotherhood” has plenty of beauty to match the horrors of the beast, and a smattering of unreliable narration thrown in to keep the mystery alive. Of course, horror films (even war-horror films) are all about the monster, and when “the beast” is finally revealed, it lives up to its name and more. A combination of CGI and puppetry designed by the famous Jim Henson’s Creature Shop studios, the mystery beast of “Brotherhood” is rarely what audiences expect, but like the monsters of classic horror films long before its time, it is entirely worth the wait.

Made-for-TV movies often face a bad rap, but what about TV tie-in films? Films that, despite being released onto the big screen, continue stories that began on the small screen?

The genre is a wee-bit of a mixed bag (for every “Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me” there’s a “Dr. Who and the Daleks”), but with the recent release of “The Many Saints of Newark” and the upcoming trilogy of “Walking Dead” films, TV continuation movies are arguably at an all-time high in terms of popularity.

This article explores the ten best TV continuation films. These set of films exemplify television translated into movies the right way — even if some might be more tailored to hardcore fans than others. Regardless, each film emerges as an individually enjoyable, engaging cinematic experience.

(Side-bar: this list is mostly fairly light on spoilers, though there might be a handful of plot points about certain TV shows revealed here or there. Fair warning.)

10. Transformers: The Movie (1986)

So “Transformers: The Movie” is a glorified commercial. News flash: Who cares, provided it’s fun?

“Transformers: The Movie” represents everything that the live-action Michael Bay attempts should’ve been — fast-paced, ridiculous, and wonderfully entertaining. It also possesses perhaps the single greatest piece of IMDb movie trivia: “Transformers: The Movie” contains the final role of Orson Welles, who portrays Unicron, the planet-devouring Transformer (no, really).

The film takes actually admirable (albeit in service of a corporate agenda) narrative risks, ruthlessly killing off nearly the entire original cast — including Optimus Prime — in the first act, clearing the path for a new set of characters. This, ironically, imbues “Transformers: The Movie” with much more grit than Bay’s iteration (or some of the other, hypothetically “darker” films on this list) and explains its lasting effect on a generation of youngsters.

There are too many moments of delectable sci-fi pulp to choose from in picking a favorite scene: Unicron’s transformation, Starscream’s ascent to the Decepticon throne, etc. And, of course, Optimus and Megatron’s final confrontation — “Megatron must be stopped, no matter the cost.” Truer words have never been spoken, Optimus. Perhaps you would’ve survived if not for that impulsive brat Hot Rod.

9. El Camino (2019)

In “El Camino: A Breaking Bad Movie”, Vince Gilligan is by-and-large disinterested in crafting a definitive condensation of the entire “Breaking Bad” mythos into a single film. Rather, “El Camino” emerges as an intimate character study centered on Jesse Pinkman (Aaron Paul), and a deserved — if not necessarily warranted — member of the “Breaking Bad” canon.

Paul’s Jesse is front-and-center in this cinematic continuation of the iconic series. Only a handful of other original “Breaking Bad” veterans are allowed a proper reprise, and they mostly make sense within the context of Jesse’s ongoing quest to achieve physical and emotional liberation.

The film is all at once a psychological drama, gritty action thriller and an atmospheric neo-Western. Likewise, Paul delivers a brilliantly multi-layered performance. While consistently hinting at the trauma endured by his character, Paul ultimately paints a portrait of a wholly new and evolved individual by the time that the credits roll.

Though it’s difficult to deny that “El Camino” is on the weaker side of the “Breaking Bad” franchise, and handfuls of characters return jarringly aged, “El Camino” nonetheless provides a satisfying coda to an invaluable pillar of Peak TV. At the very least, it provided us with a plethora of entertaining internet memes (“Fat Todd”, anyone?).

8. Batman (1966)

Before Michael Keaton — or Val Kilmer, George Clooney, Christian Bale, Ben Affleck, Robert Pattinson or even Kevin Conroy — the character of Batman was solely synonymous with one actor: Adam West. West’s landmark take on the character was a riot of self-aware, earnest camp and sly social satire.

1966’s “Batman” is like a perfectly curated “greatest hits” montage for West’s Caped Crusader. The story goes as follows: Batman and the Boy Wonder (Burt Ward) face off against a deadly supervillain team composed of The Joker (Cesar Romero), Catwoman (Lee Meriwether), Riddler (Frank Gorshin) and Penguin (Burgess Meredith).

The villains, though evil in their schemes to “hold the world for ransom” via creating a massive dehydrating device, still have some class and meet in a professional setting under the title “United Underworld”. Batman and Robin employ a wide array of colorful gadgets and Bat-themed vehicles to defeat their costumed foes, culminating in a cinematic experience which makes one yearn for a time when Batman wasn’t all doom-and-gloom (and the trailer for “The Batman” doesn’t exactly inspire a lot of hope that’ll change anytime soon).

7. Serenity (2005)

One’s enjoyment of “Serenity” depends entirely on one’s tolerance for the soapy, oppressively televisual sensibilities of Joss Whedon. Likewise, “Serenity” occasionally feels merely like a feature-length episode of “Firefly”, though it’s founded on a rock-solid foundation of compelling characters and boasts a worthwhile conclusion to a beloved cult series.

Whedon manages to balance the original “Firefly” ensemble reasonably well on the big screen, and the collective charisma within the cast remains intact. But really, it’s the climax that makes “Serenity” soar: a heat-pounding third-act blowout even if you’re not fully invested in the “Firefly” mythos.

6. South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut (1999)

“South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut” is a prime example of honest advertising in the movies. It promises an extended, more grandiose and “uncut” take on the original series, and the film 100% delivers.

In a delightfully meta storyline, “Bigger, Longer & Uncut” presents Stan, Eric, Kyle and Kenny sneaking into an R-rated film, and subsequently shocking the world with their newly-learned vocabulary.

Though, because it’s “South Park”, things don’t end there — Satan gets involved, the U.S. and Canada go to war, plus Saddam Hussein as Lucifer’s abusive lover. It’s a weird time, but unabashedly “South Park”.

Acting is a common theme within existential philosophy. It makes sense, when you think about it. When there is nothing essential or permanent underneath the constant flux of reality, is there any concrete sense of self? Or are we all just playing different parts and roles, the accumulation of which adds up to something seemingly solid? When were you truly your most “authentic” self? When you were five years old, or 20, or 50? Does one action define who you are?

For instance, if you do one very bad thing, say, cheat on your spouse, are you permanently a cheater? Is that who you are, does it become part of your identity? We tend to remember and emphasize the worst characteristic of others, so human nature would tend towards remembering you that way. But if this happened early on in your relationship, after which you spent fifty years together in bliss with no stepping out of bounds, would it be fair to you to be known as a cheater, forever defined by that one event? Albert Camus wrote, “Yes, hell must be like that: streets filled with shop signs and no way of explaining oneself. One is classified once and for all.” One could translate that into saying that one is destined to be one thing for their life, boxed in by walls which destroys the complicated and ever-shifting nature of human beings. One is no longer free to become who they want to be. There is no more freedom, no more hope. Nothing towards which we are reaching.

Caden Cotard (Philip Seymour Hoffman) is a depressed man. Just watching him breaks your heart and soul. A theater director and hypochondriac, he cuts his head on the mirror while trying to shave and his wife, Adele Lack (Catherine Keener), fantasizes about him dying so that she can start over without feeling the guilt of leaving him (which she eventually does anyways).

Not much else can truly be understood about the film. In a realistic sense, that is. The film moves in and out of surreal absurdism, metaphor stacked on metaphor stacked on shaky metaphor. The sense of continuity and character building is brittle; some are suddenly replaced by others playing the same character. Most of the plot takes place within Cotard’s mind (maybe).

No movie has ever been so honest about human experience. Not just the stories that people experience, those we tell to younger generations when we get to be old, but the real, visceral, moment to moment experienced reality. The philosopher Thomas Nagel wrote an essay about what it is like to be a bat. This movie presents what it is like to be human.

People have a tendency to interpret their lives in one fell swoop, with simplistic storylines and other characters who boil down to cardboard cutouts. It takes a lot of hard work to remember that every other person you meet has a story just like yours, filled with love and loss, passion and dullness, enjoyment and anger. Cotard says, “There are nearly thirteen million people in the world. None of those people is an extra. They’re all the leads of their own stories. They have to be given their due.” When you put all of these stories together, the world becomes a lot messier. These walls and compartments we build in our mind start to break down and blur into each other. The other actors in our lives are not the neat and cleanly categorized beings we think of them as. They have their own wills and desires, their own hopes and dreams, their own humanity.

How does the mind deal with it all? We build walls and compartments, in order to organize our experience into neat categories so that we can move through the world and have a sense of what we are doing and need to do, to be able to say “this experience was bad” or “maybe next time I’ll do it differently.” We wear different masks and play different parts depending on the situation, despite the fact that most situations are too complex for any of these simplistic masks we don. Here’s what the writer Karl One Knausgaard wrote about the self, in his book So Much Longing In So Little Space:

“But what is the self beyond the story? One way of seeing it is as a place that is continually becoming, where what is happening is continually merging with what has happened in ways and forms determined by previous experiences more or less powerful and decisive, but regardless of how rigid they might become eventually, there will still be movement, albeit along the same channels. The self is a work in progress, it understands itself through its memories but lives its life between them, in bits and pieces, in the present and in the past, in thoughts and emotions. And that is my story about the inner: something chaotic that one seeks to control through habits and experiences, sketch-like, unfinished, raw and unrefined.”

Compare this with Millicent, who is auditioning for one of the roles of Cotard:

“Caden Cotard is a man already dead, living in a half-world between stasis and antistasis. Time is concentrated and chronology confused for him. Up until recently he has strived valiantly to make sense of his situation, but now he has turned to stone.”

Cotard gives her the role of himself right away, because she understands. Cotard barely lives, spending most of his time obsessing over his memories and trying to make sense of his experience. Time is frantic and confused, and life too grand to truly understand. Imagination, while often a wonderland of beauty and creativity, can also seed a darker side, where anxious thoughts and obsessive worries can mold someone into a sense of paralysis and inability to move. It can also create delusions of the mind that infiltrate all of our waking experience.

It is worth noting the psychological delusions that Charlie Kaufman works in throughout the film. The most blatant of these is Cotard’s delusion, which has profound implications given that the main character is named Cotard. This is a delusion where the sufferer believes that they are either dying or dead, or possibly even don’t exist.

This brings to mind questions of the reality of the film. Is Cotard actually dead? Or is there a point where he dies? You have to wonder at what point the real turns surreal, or objective exterior turns subjective interior. Strange things are happening throughout the film from the beginning, for instance, very early on when Olive poops green poop. Or perhaps Cotard is sleepwalking through his life and interactions, and the film portrays his attempt to wake up and truly live, however that looks.

The other delusion is Capgras delusion. This appears when Cotard is entering Adele’s flat, with the name on the number reading as “Capgras.” This is a delusion where someone believes that all of their loved ones and friends have been replaced by identical doubles. For this reason it is also known as Impostor’s Syndrome.

This also has an obvious relation to the sense of warped reality as experienced by Cotard, where actors are found to play people familiar to him, and then actors to play those actors, creating a stack of false identities. This is something we all have. Humans live many different lives, in many different capacities, with different goals and ideals. Others come in and out of our lives from time to time. Sometimes they are in it for an extremely short amount of time, but it might be long enough to change the outcome of the play. Sometimes they are in it for a long time, for the rest of the play. But just as the actors playing different people in the film keep changing, so do the others in our life, whether in our “real,” waking life, or in memory. Those we live our lives with are not static. Just as we are ever changing, growing, experiencing new things and evolving, so are those we live our lives with.

We should bring up the meaning of the title, at this point, the end, fittingly enough. Synecdoche, New York is clearly related to Schenectady, New York, a city near Albany in upstate New York where the film takes place. However, it is a clever play because the definition of synecdoche is, “a figure of speech in which a part is used for the whole or the whole for a part, the special for the general or the general for the special.” Cotard’s experience in this film is everyone’s experience. “What was once before you – an exciting, mysterious future – is now behind you. Lived; understood; disappointing. You realize you are not special. You have struggled into existence, and are now slipping silently out of it. This is everyone’s experience. Every single one. The specifics hardly matter.” We are all just trying to figure life out. Cotard, throughout the film, keeps saying that he knows how to do the play, as if he has just figured out this life, even right up until the end. We create stories to simplify reality and the events that happen to us to better understand and give our lives meaning, which, in the end, is different for everybody. As Hazel tells Cotard at one point, “Everyone has to figure out their own life, you know.”

You can feel the immensity of this in everything. We are constantly being reminded of the smallness of ourselves, how minuscule we truly are in light of everything (Adele’s paintings). This is perhaps best shown in the lyrics of what is, arguably, the theme song:

I’m just a little person
One person in a sea
Of many little people
Who are not aware of me
I do my little job
And live my little life
Eat my little meals
Miss my little kid and wife

And somewhere, maybe someday
Maybe somewhere far away
I’ll find a second little person
Who will look at me and say-
I know you
You’re the one I’ve waited for
Let’s have some fun

Life is precious, every minute
And more precious with you in it
So let’s have some fun

This film is a masterpiece. Some critics were harsh, calling it self-indulgent and narcissistic. Perhaps it is. But it is also an anxious fever dream, obsessed with finding the significance in life, meaning in relationships, and truth in reality. If it succeeds is a matter of interpretation, just like our own lives. Metaphor and allegory pervade it with a sense of tension, dread and wonder. The city is built up, only to erode at the end, which is built into the beginning.

No one said they had to play it by the book. Adaptations are fascinating to see come to life mainly because of the question that always has to tag along with them: “how faithful will the movie be?” For fans of the novel or original story, it can be a true heartbreak to see stories they love rendered in a completely different fashion. Not to mention, sometimes the authors know best, and the additions or subtractions screenwriters and directors make end up hurting the film more than helping. But occasionally there’s a film that seems to do the impossible.

Now and then an adaptation comes along that wildly differs from what it is adapting yet carves out a confident identity for itself that is not just sensible but astounding in quality. The 10 below are the ones that defy the norms, the unfaithful adaptations that may seem to be committing sacrilege but make for one hell of a movie experience.

1. Dr. Strangelove (1964) from Red Alert

Stanley Kubrick is notorious for making one of the most unfaithful adaptations in movie history. The Shining after all may just be the most famous example of the title of this list, a movie so tinkered with from page to screen that Stephen King totally decried the film and its attempt to bring the book to life. Everyone else, however, adored it. But Dr. Strangelove, another Kubrick adaptation, is another great case study as well. Red Alert, the novel its based upon, is a serious, cold, procedural look at Cold War paranoia that takes absolutely no stops for laughs. Dr. Strangelove, is of course, the exact opposite.

Keeping the plot but absolutely desecrating the seriousness of the book, Dr. Strangelove’s legacy lies in how hilarious it is, in how it makes light of and jokes at the peculiarity of nuclear conflict. The film’s titular character, Dr. Strangelove, is not even in the book. He was a character made up for the screen, a comic relief struggling with a residue of Nazism that is not remotely present in the novel. The characters that remain don’t just have their names changed for comedic effect, like the president in the movie now being Merkin Muffley, but have their essence changed as well.

Jack Ripper may still find that the Russians are licking their chops to attack America at just the right time, but he also believes they are trying to make Americans into communists through bodily fluids. The competent President turns into a hesitant leader who cannot even hold a serious conversation with the Soviet Premier. But the film does not succeed in spite of those changes but because of them. Its silliness and exaggeration and total apathy for seriousness is the reason it’s revered as one of the great satires of all time.

2. Starship Troopers (1997) from Starship Troopers

In a strikingly similar vein, Starship Troopers is an adaptation of another novel that deals with Cold War tensions that plays everything for laughs. The book, like Red Alert, is no joking matter, and that largely has to do with what it is trying to say. Starship Troopers as a novel is attempting to deliver a nuanced perspective on war and violence. It looks to spur American readiness against the Soviets because its point is ultimately that a functional, decent society must have the courage to do what’s right, even if that means murder.

Verhoeven’s Starship Troopers is the opposite of that. It is anti-war at every turn, making fun of jingoism and nationalism at every step of the way, reducing courage and valor to senseless machismo. Whereas the book does not delve into love, the film wields Denise Richards and her looks to parody war movies themselves. Rico is not doing it for his country like he is in the book he’s doing it for a girl. The high school elements add a large part of the cheesiness to Starship Troopers which are barely noticeable in Heinlein’s novel. Yet the majority would claim Starship Troopers is a successful movie. It is unapologetic in its B-movie tendencies, its action scenes are gory and fun, and the tongue-in-cheek humor works exceptionally well, turning the film into something of a cult classic. It, in an ironic turn, conveys a message almost opposite to book, but never ceases to marry its own style and allegory in beautiful, late 90s union.

3. Adaptation (2002) from The Orchid Thief

Is Adaptation an adaptation? More than any film on the list, it brings into question how far one can alter a source material before changing the intent entirely. And this is not a question in the subtext it is a question asked by the main character. Charlie Kaufman ends up replacing the main storyline of The Orchid Thief, the novel he is adapting, with himself. The story of Adaptation revolves around not just the pain involved in adapting something but also in trying to be an original artist. Since Charlie Kaufman is a mastermind, this very thread gets weaved into the part of the movie that concerns the book.

The Orchid Thief is a nonfiction book about flowers, but it is also one about obsession and losing sight of both story and sense when delving into a particular fascination. Which is, naturally, what Charlie Kaufman, both writer and character are struggling with. He radically alters the events and focus of the book but leaves some elements intact. Chris Cooper, the eccentric Orchid collector is here along with Orlean herself, played by the ever-marvelous Meryl Streep, but his tinkering makes the film so excellent.

The main storyline being a self-referential piece on the struggle of screenwriting totally rewrites the book, which as Kaufman acknowledges, is just kind of about flowers. But in crafting a story he felt comfortable with Kaufman elevates the novel but also Orlean herself, making a film that empathizes with her own struggle of making something unique and captivating for people to consume, even if it what she made would have not worked without significant changes.

4. O Brother Where Art Thou? (2000) from The Odyssey

Though the Coens amusingly denied ever reading The Odyssey, O Brother Where Art Thou? is a loose and joyous adaptation of Homer’s epic poem. Plot-wise it has numerous callbacks to the original work such as John Goodman standing in for a cyclops and seductive women standing in for sirens but one not familiar with Homer may be totally unaware of the film’s source. O Brother covers its Greek DNA with a gleeful fast-paced adventure set in depression era America. It strays from the desperate journey of Odysseus and gives us a tale of escape with Ulysses and his band of marvelous idiots.

With a new setting comes new side characters for the protagonists to encounter and here the Coens present a lively pastiche of 1930s characters and ideas to toy with. Whether that be famous bank robbers, the KKK, or opportunistic music producers, O Brother gives a new assortment of subplots that feel more like a greatest hits collection of a struggling America than anything remotely resembling Homer’s text. The Coens snappy dialogue make for a witty and colorful film that’s a far cry from the poetic and lyrical exchanges and descriptions it’s based off of. While a lot of O Brother is owed to the Odyssey its differences make it into something entirely original, a musically driven ride through the Southwest with an identity all its own.

5. Who Framed Roger Rabbit? (1988) from Who Censored Roger Rabbit?

Who Framed Roger Rabbit? is one of the few instances where the creator of the original work actually enjoyed the changes made in the adaptation, and how couldn’t he? The merging of Looney Tunes and Disney characters was an opportunity no one should have passed up but in making a film with said characters, changes had to have been made. In accounting for the addition of these cartoon characters, Who Framed Roger Rabbit? Became a decisively more fantastical, family-based adventure. Private-eye Eddie Valiant seems to be the only one that wants to take anything seriously, and even his ambitions are foiled by the always eccentric title character, who is not a major player in the novel.

In fact, Roger Rabbit is killed off very early on in the novel. The premise lies in finding out who killed him and who wanted to silence him in the process. His early murder sets the tone for a novel that has much more obvious influences from 1940s noir movies. Jessica Rabbit gets to be a more traditional femme fatale, Eddie Valiant has no quirky toon world to counter his cynicism. All that’s there is the merging of famous characters from comic strips, not cartoons, and none have as outlandish sequences as Daffy and Donald Duck battling on dueling pianos. But, as Gary K. Wolf would recognize, the revolutionary merging of cartoon and real worlds was essential to make the story more accessible to audiences. More importantly, said merging was expertly handled, making for a once-in-a-lifetime cinematic experience that had more intelligence and layers than so many other blockbusters released at the time.

In just over twenty-five years and nine feature films, Paul Thomas Anderson has developed a body of work that’s unmatched in contemporary cinema. Where other filmmakers of the video store generation swayed towards genre (Quentin Tarantino), or some towards blockbuster actioners (Christopher Nolan), Anderson stayed true to the emotive impulses of classic cinéma vérité, all whilst dipping his toe in the waters of so-called lesser art. Much like Stanley Kubrick, Anderson immerses us in a different world with every new film, but what’s fascinating is how he manages to stay faithful to his discernible style, still always bringing us something fresh to the table.

Whether it’s Hard Eight or Phantom Thread, if PTA’s films have fundamentally centered on anything, it’s loneliness and alienation. Take Magnolia, an ensemble film in which every character feels the weight of these issues, or Adam Sandler’s Barry in Punch Drunk Love, with his failing business prospects and social ineptitude. Many common themes echo through the eight (soon-to-be-nine) features of the infamous director’s canon, like the parental troubles of Boogie Nights, Magnolia, or There Will Be Blood, but what leaves an everlasting impression of a supposed ‘trademark style’ isn’t just the thematic commonalities, but the technical aspects, too.

This is where film history comes into play, and more specifically, the importance of a great director’s inspiration. Fortunately for us, PTA has been relatively vocal on his influences over the years. He’s never been much for publicity, and for the fanatics of his work, it won’t take long to exhaust the few behind-the-scenes tapes and Q&As floating around on the internet. Nevertheless, through various comments made in written interviews and unashamed references in his work, we can start to determine exactly which pictures define that PTA touch, and precisely which films he recommends to the cinephiles out there.

10. Shoot the Piano Player (1960)

In a 1998 list titled ‘10 Films That Influenced Boogie Nights’, Anderson referenced François Truffaut’s noir classic Shoot the Piano Player for its lasting impact on him, praising Truffaut’s deft ability to play with genre and even calling it the film that taught him how to dress. Upon viewing, much sense can be made of this statement, almost every character clad in either a swanky suit, loosely bound necktie, or flashy blazer, curiously similar to elements of PTA’s attire in his earlier public appearances.

Alas, we’re not here to discuss fashion trends, but the reasons for Anderson’s recommending this film in the first place, of which there are many. A standout aspect the auteur praised was the use of Cinemascope here, which at the time was reserved mostly for big-budget Hollywood movies. This extra space on the screen, although seemingly insignificant, allowed for more focus on character, creating a world in which the backdrop of Paris was simply another landscape alongside the multiple faces that danced across the frame.

Many modern directors found inspiration through French New Wave, Quentin Tarantino even naming his production company A Band Apart after Jean-Luc Godard’s classic of a similar name. What makes PTA’s recommendation interesting, however, is that it isn’t amongst the most renowned entries of the French film movement, Jules and Jim, Breathless or The 400 Blows generally being higher regarded in the broader critical circle. Still, when you take a step back, it’s no wonder this one is an all-timer for the veteran filmmaker. Of all Truffaut pictures, Shoot the Piano Player gets closest to mirroring PTA’s unique approach, resulting in an effortless blend of arthouse and genre.

9. Stray Dog (1949)

Another outlier when compared to the respective filmmaker’s greatest hits, Stray Dog is a hidden gem of master director Akira Kurosawa’s legendary oeuvre, and a general highlight of his police procedural entries. This was yet another film mentioned as a primary influence on Boogie Nights, and when taking the time to set aside the differences, it shows. The film centers on a budding detective who loses his gun, and the ramifications that follow. Anderson complimented the film’s disarming simplicity, saying ‘it has the simplest plot you can say in one sentence: rookie cop loses his gun, he has to get it back. It’s unbelievable.’

Outside of the breakneck pace and sweltering heat of Boogie Nights, Stray Dog has many similarities with PTA’s other work, Inherent Vice being an obvious one. Inherent Vice was Anderson’s first all-out noir film, and so it would make sense that the noirs he adores can be seen in its meandering premise, Joaquin Phoenix’s listless protagonist Doc bearing many of the same traits as Toshirō Mifune’s nerve-wracked Detective Murakami. Mifune’s character is uncharacteristically amateur here, lacking the confidence and sturdiness of his more well-known characters. It’s a role that best displays the versatility of the cherished actor, and his knack for immersing himself in the personalities he assumed.

Like Kurosawa’s more revered High and Low, Stray Dog can be set apart from the rest of the titan director’s work in the sense that it’s not a period piece nor a samurai venture, but a scathing look at the psychological consequences of governmental responsibility, and the social strain of a postwar Tokyo. PTA’s The Master follows similar themes, but instead of looking at Japan, it focuses on those on the other side of the sea. As with most of Anderson’s films, this is a movie that encompasses an entire universe of eclectic topics, all whilst hanging on to its simplistic gravitas as it stumbles drunkenly to the finish line.

8. The Big Sleep (1946)

If Stray Dog had some similarities with Inherent Vice, The Big Sleep utilizes a near-identical method of storytelling. Like PTA’s 2014 noir, Howard Hawks’ genre milestone is as convoluted as it gets, actively challenging the viewer to get lost in its messy myriad of puzzling mysteries. Adapted from the original novel by Raymond Chandler, who openly admitted to not knowing who the murderer of his own story was, the film tells the tale of Humphrey Bogart’s private dick Philip Marlowe, and the rabbit-hole case he finds himself on.

PTA once said of the movie: ‘The Big Sleep is impossible to follow, but it doesn’t matter. You just want to keep watching it, seeing where it goes.’ This, in many ways, is the formula of Inherent Vice; a chaotic adaptation of a chaotic source material. Beyond that, the ramping tension of The Big Sleep resembles many other PTA pictures, making it a movie that’s affected the director’s entire career. The amount of iconic couples the big screen has seen is ceaseless, and whilst John Cassavetes and Gena Rowlands will never be bested on their level of cool, Lauren Bacall and Humphrey Bogart will never be reckoned with on their level of class.

It would be easy to dismiss The Big Sleep as nothing more than a scrambled collage of ideas, but that would be underestimating its legendary influence on the genre. Hawks proves here that an audience needn’t always comprehend a story. If they’re enjoying the performances or the imagery on screen, the tickets will sell themselves. Film noir is a genre that saw its defining years in the 40s, its signature cynicism birthed by the universally endured trauma of WWII, making it like the western in that real-life issues fed into the principles of its style. For its 1946 release, The Big Sleep came at the very end of this terrible time, making it not just a film for the ages, but a film that acts as a mournful, final call. The noir to end all noirs.

7. Something Wild (1986)

Aside from master of Americana Robert Altman, no director has had as much an effect on PTA as veteran craftsman Jonathan Demme. Anderson has long championed Demme as his ‘favorite, top-of-the-line filmmaker,’ referencing his eclectic filmography and masterful use of subjective camerawork. So much of Anderson’s visual technique can be traced back to this, particularly when studying his closeups. It’s no coincidence that the shots of Joaquin Phoenix’s Freddie Quell or Amy Adams’ Peggy Dodd in The Master recall the POVs on Jodie Foster and Anthony Hopkins in The Silence of the Lambs, but it’s Something Wild that resembles the impulsivity of PTA, specifically the youthful allure of his earlier entries.

Something Wild is, for the most part, exactly what it says on the tin. When successful businessman Charles Driggs is kidnapped by free-spirited young woman Audrey ‘Lulu’ Hankel, the unlikely duo wreak havoc on a road trip across America, meanwhile Lulu’s mobster ex-husband Ray Sinclair is hot on their tail. With breathless performances from Melanie Griffith and Jeff Daniels, and a suitably tough-guy turn from Ray Liotta, Demme’s screwball masterpiece oozes entertainment value, making it one of the most thoroughly engaging road movies of the 80s.

It’s no big mystery why Something Wild is a PTA favorite. It’s a typically refreshing entry from a notoriously intangible filmmaker, complimented by master cinematographer Tak Fujimoto’s exquisite framing. Like PTA, Demme was a filmmaker who took pride in realizing a brave new world every time he stepped behind the camera, producing concert films such as Stop Making Sense, courtroom dramas like Philadelphia, or politically taught documentaries like The Agronomist. Sadly, Demme died in April 2017 after battling multiple illnesses, leaving such an impression on Anderson that he dedicated his 2017 film Phantom Thread to his memory. No end credit moment is as emotionally charged as this; a tip of the hat from one great artist to another, thus concluding a long and mutually invaluable friendship.

6. The Passionate Friends (1949)

David Lean was a director adored by many great filmmakers, from Italian masters like Sergio Leone to American icons like Stanley Kubrick, but PTA has always been one of his very most enthused fans. In The Passionate Friends, a film in which a classic love triangle is dissected into its various pros and cons, we find echoes of Anderson’s work, specifically the baroque aesthetic of Phantom Thread. With its snow-capped mountains, New Year’s Eve sequence, and period-Britain backdrop, there are countless reflections of Anderson’s 2017 film here, but what makes the movie extraordinary is how criminally undervalued it is.

Lean, of course, is known for his more famous works Lawrence of Arabia, Bridge on the River Kwai, or Brief Encounter. Interestingly, Brief Encounter focuses on many of the same issues as The Passionate Friends and was released just a few years before, so it’s easy to see the reasons behind its being overshadowed. Anderson confirmed the film as an influence on his work in multiple Q&As, expressing confusion as to why it isn’t more talked about. Upon seeing the film, one can only agree with these comments. This is classic, achingly romantic Lean, representing a sweeter time before sprawling epics would dominate his back-catalog.

If the stellar direction doesn’t do it for you, the performances surely will. With heartbreaking turns from Ann Todd and Trevor Howard, and a standout performance from Claude Rains, this one is a lot more than the Brief Encounter knock-off critics mistook it for. The Passionate Friends is as much a searingly accurate depiction of love, as it is a spot-on portrait of jealousy. Just what is it with love and trains, and why does Lean make them feel so right for each other? Maybe it’s the coming and going, or the skip in the heart when saying goodbye. Lean – forever the master of passion in transit.

The Master begins with a group of men doing what they end up doing with too much time and nothing to do: drinking, wrestling, talking about their privates, and creating a naked woman out of sand. One man takes it a little too far, exciting himself a little too realistically, and ends up masturbating into the ocean. From other shots of him drinking himself under the bar, seeing every Rorschach blotch in terms of virility, and a gruff interaction with an army doctor wanting to know about his dreams, we get a picture of a man who has never had a serious thought about life in his entire…well…life.

Freddie Quell (Joaquin Phoenix) is a navy man and a drifter, a lost soul. He jumps from alcohol tinged job to alcohol infused job. After poisoning a farm worker with his own alcoholic brew, he hops onto a ship where some form of party is taking place, only to wake up the next day and learn that he had to be subdued out of aggression. He quickly finds out that he has entered a cult. The cult leader, Lancaster Dodd (Philip Seymour Hoffman), describes himself as “a writer, a doctor, a nuclear physicist, a theoretical philosopher, but above all I am a man.” The film documents the story of these two men; their entanglement, their fights and their love, their anger and their hope.

Much has been speculated about the influence of Scientology on this movie (although supposedly Paul Thomas Anderson is quite tired of the comparisons). This is, perhaps, one valid interpretation. However, the film can be viewed in a broader, more capacious way. To boil it down to one particular story is simplistic and particular, and bastardizes a human story; one in which there is frustration and despair, desire and want, creation and destruction, angst and hope. It is the universal story; how do you make sense of both yours and the worlds existence, and how do you reconcile the two? And after this, how are you supposed to live?

Albert Camus was a French philosopher who lived from 1913-1960. Two of his most famous works, The Stranger and The Myth of Sisyphus, are classics of a style of philosophy called existentialism. The core tenet of existentialism is that, in the phrasing of Jean-Paul Sartre, existence precedes essence. There is no ultimate type or ideal human that you are supposed to be. There is no universal you are trying to grasp at. You can decide who you are and what you do. It starts with the particular, with you as an individual.

Existentialism is opposed to essentialism, which is the idea that there is an ideal Form of human being that you should be trying to attain. This school of thought derives from Plato. He believed that there are universal Forms beyond the material realm that all classes of objects participate in. For instance, there are many different kinds of particular horses. The reason we categorize them all as horses is because they all participate in this essence of horse-ness. It starts with the universal.

Essentialism is top down, and existentialism is bottom up. An overly simplistic way to describe it is that fridge magnet that reads, “Life isn’t about finding yourself, it’s about creating yourself.” There is no you out there you are trying to discover and live up to. You are, right now, creating yourself by every choice you make.

This view has many different logical outcomes, which go by many different names. For Camus, it was referred to as absurdity. In The Myth of Sisyphus, Camus lays out his vision of absurdity. He writes that, “This divorce between man and his life, the actor and his setting, is properly the feeling of absurdity.” Alienation is a common theme in Camus’ thought. There is a disconnect between humanity and their existence; a sense of ennui that is embodied in a constant drum beat of what would colloquially be “going through the motions.” To never really feel that you belong, the feeling that you never quite fit in anywhere, or that you are just going along with what everybody else is doing while never feeling truly connected or invested in your existence; this is the sentiment he is describing as absurdity.

This is made worse by the fact that the universe does not give us meaning. Camus writes, “I don’t know whether this world has a meaning that transcends it. But I know that I cannot know that meaning and that it is impossible for me just now to know it.” The absurd is the confrontation of trying to live in a world with no meaning or purpose. This is also what the title of the book is a reference too. Sisyphus was punished by being forced to roll a boulder up to the top of a mountain, only to never have it reach the top. Camus uses this myth as a metaphor for the fruitless labor of attempting to discover ultimate Truth. We are incapable of understanding and knowing everything there is to know and living life correctly. What results is absurdity.

Because of this emphasis on the unknowability of absolute truth and the right path for living, existentialism emphasizes possibility and creation. When there is no right path for your life, you are free to be whoever it is you want to be. You can live the life you desire.
When Freddie first meets Dodd the morning after he jumps on his ship, Dodd invites him to his daughter’s wedding which is happening later that day on the boat. The last thing he tells him is that his memories are not invited. With this statement, Dodd is allowing him to create himself anew. Freddie is no longer a prisoner to his past, he can break free of what is holding him back and create (become) a new self; the self he wants to be. In a scene that shortly follows we see the difference between who Freddie believes himself to be and who he actually is, as we have seen in the film thus far. Therefore, this temptation to create a new self keeps him on board the ship, continuing to pull him along with this new group he has discovered.

The most poignant scene of the movie happens in the desert. Dodd brings Freddie, his daughter and her fiancé, and a motorbike. In a beautifully shot scene, Dodd tells them to pick a point on the horizon, and drive towards it as fast as they can. It’s exhilarating. The sun glides off of them. The crisp, dusty air breaking open for them as they ride. Freddie doesn’t want to come back, he keeps going. He wants to leave the familiar behind, and rush on towards the future, towards what is next, towards hope and freedom.

In a world of uncertainty, where no path is absolutely right, where no world view has all the answers, isn’t this what we do? We pick a point and we go. Who knows if it’s right, who knows where it will take us, who knows if we hit a bump along the way and fall off? It’s human existence. Isn’t that the only thing we can do?

It is worth quoting here what Dodd says to Freddie near the end of the movie:

“Freddie, sailor of the seas. You pay no rent, free to go where you please. Then go, go to that landless latitude, and good luck; for if you figure a way to live without serving a master, any master, then let the rest of us know, will you? For you’d be the first person in the history of the world.”

Compare this with a quote from Camus’ novel, The Fall:

“Ah, mon cher, for anyone who is alone, without God and without a master, the weight of days is dreadful. Hence one must choose a master, God being out of style.”

World views and ideological constructs are a type of home. They are an identity which gives us a sense of self and direction in the world. Dodd is telling Freddie here that he has no home, no identity. Freddie is wandering through life, he has no clear ideas about the reality of the world or his existence, or about how people should live their lives. He is free to go where he pleases, by which Dodd means that Freddie is free to jump from one way of life to another; he has no commitments, he is the absurd man.

The second half of what he tells Freddie is important, and illuminates another important aspect of Existential thought. Most people do not want to do the hard work of discovering reality as it is, or changing the way they live. Most of us fall into patterns and routines that we have inherited from our parents and friends, our cultural mores and values. Most people do not think that deeply about what they do or why they do it, they go through the motions, believing themselves to be thinking actors who knowledgeably and justifiably do what they do.

This is a paradox we cannot get out of. To a certain extent, we inherit these ways of living from everyone around us. It is impossible to completely separate ourselves from them. If we were able to do that, we would suddenly stop living. In this sense, we all have masters. To live without a master is to be so radically different from those who came before you as to be almost alien.

But others will fall into line with no thought at all. It might be that their identity is so strongly tied to a single person that they will believe everything they are told by that person. For others it might be a movement, or a cause, or ideology. Human beings were not made to handle too much uncertainty, because it is impossible to live with it. It can be more comforting to forfeit your own critical thinking skills and follow along with a group, losing your sense of self in identifying with those around you.

Freddie never quite fits in with Dodd’s group, The Cause. He doesn’t really think about it. He finds the group, discovers how he can fit in with them, and plays the part. He tries to do things that he thinks would make Dodd happy, like beating up a skeptic who challenges Dodd for scientific proof at a party. But is he ever really a believer? Does he follow through with their prescribed acts and rituals? Freddie has a tendency to ignore how people tell him he is supposed to act, and so gets ostracized from the group. Freddie has no Master. Or, perhaps, he is his own Master.

The Master is a brilliant film because Anderson takes a familiar archetype, the seeker, and universalizes it. We all grow up within world views; systems that give our life purpose, direction and meaning. But not only that, he alters the end. Freddie never finds what he’s looking for. Our hero is on a quest which never resolves. Sisyphus continues to push the boulder up the mountain. Freddie never finds his answers, but one must imagine him happy.

Martin Scorsese is often regarded as one of the greatest directors of all time but sometimes his popular films might give you a wrong idea that he’s not versatile enough while in fact, this is the man who made films as wildly diverse like “Hugo”, “The Age of Innocence” and “Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore”. Yet, it’s also a truth that the crime genre is something he often comes back to and not just organized crime or mobsters. He’s always interested in the violent nature of humans and its often tragic consequences.

As for the life in crime, he was once quoted saying, “Well, it is glamorous and attractive, is it not? It’s glamorous at first if you’re young and stupid, which a lot of people are. I was.” He always tried to show different sides of criminal life in various films and he was always successful at that. Now, no need to talk about it more because if you’re here, obviously you know how great he is at it. Considering he has made some of the greatest films in the genre, it’s worth taking a look at ten of his many, countless favorites. The man is a devoted cinephile overall but hopefully; these ten will show what kind of a diverse taste he has.

10. Kansas City (1996)

If we’re talking about versatility, Robert Altman should also get a mention. The man explored so many different genres with such a style and his own way of looking at things. If we use Scorsese’s own words, Altman had a “uniquely American sensibility and artistic vision.” Here he explores the racism, power dynamics, corruption, political games and so many other things in 30s Kansas through a story of pair of kidnappings, which according to him, is “a true story”. Not necessarily the story itself but “the kidnappings were common back then, especially of women.”

The story is more straightforward than most Altman films but still, it flopped at the box office. Maybe because it was not fast-pacing enough or it was the distribution/marketing problems, who knows but this is a film that deserved better. There’s a bit of a feeling of 30s gangster pictures which is maybe what attracted Scorsese into the picture. Altman had the basic story of two women involved in kidnapping years prior to the film, so there was always a passion for this project but the movie also stands out for its jazz soundtrack. The performances are jazzy as well and it’s also very funny actually. Everybody in the cast shines but the true highlight is the craftsmanship which elevates the already interesting story. The editing also deserves every praise there is.

9. Blue Steel (1990)

Kathryn Bigelow cited Scorsese among her influences and Scorsese, in turn, also said that he’s a big fan of Kathryn’s works over the years and especially giving a shout-out to “Blue Steel”. There’s so much going on in this movie. The film follows a young policewoman who kills a robber on her first mission in self-defense but then her pistol gets disappeared. Then she’s getting accused of killing an unarmed man. In addition, she has to struggle with the arrogance of her colleagues and her isolation in the big city life. One of these days she falls in love with a stockbroker who turns out to be some sort of psycho but it’s Jamie Lee Curtis who plays the lead role and we know she’s good with fighting against boogeymen from her earlier films anyway.

The film is wildly over-the-top but it’s also incredibly satisfying if you love 80s psycho-sexual thrillers like “Fatal Attraction”. Not to mention, there’s some “Wall Street” as well. The cast led by Curtis is simply wonderful and Bigelow’s direction is just delicious. “Blue Steel” is a film of its time, but in a good way.

8. Blood Simple (1984)

Cinematographer Barry Sonenfield says: “We talked about fantasy-wise, hiring Scorsese to play the Dan Hedaya role but we were nervous that whenever we decided to put the camera somewhere, Scorsese would be like shaking his head no. Scorsese was another big influence in terms of you look at Mean Streets and what the camera does in that movie that has nothing to do with what the characters are doing.”

Despite that, Scorsese liked the film as he usually does like Coen brothers’ films, even putting “Fargo” on his list of greatest films of its decade. Even though it was their debut film, their unique style is already evident in the film in almost every detail possible; rich and original characters, the influence of different genres on the storyline, outstanding camera work, and lighting, their own unique way of building suspense and picking the right actors for the right parts, especially M. Emmet Walsh in possibly the best performance of his career. Frances McDormand is also outstanding in her feature film debut.

7. Clockers (1995)

The African-American drug dealer Ronald ‘Strike’ Dunham (Mekhi Phifer) leads a well-ordered life in New York. His business is going well and the criminal street scene is his home. One day brother Victor (Isaiah Washinton) ends up being a suspect for murder. The two police officers Rocco Klein (Harvey Keitel) and Larry Mazilli (John Turturro) are tasked with investigating the crime, and they have doubts about Victor’s confession. While Strike will realize things he didn’t know about the life of crime.

Martin Scorsese and Spike Lee are good buddies and “Clockers” is one of Spike’s most Scorsese-ish films. Not a surprise because Marty himself was supposed to direct it but he then instead did “Casino”, only stayed as an executive producer on the film which stars his frequent collaborator Harvey Keitel and based on Richard Price’s novel, who previously collaborated with Marty on “The Color of Money”. While certainly, it’d be interesting to see Scorsese’s own spin on the story, Spike is doing an admirable job with the whole thing and when you watch the film, it’s easy to see how “The Wire” was inspired by the book this film was based on.

6. La Cérémonie (1995)

The maid Sophie (Sandine Bonnaire) has settled in the position of the wealthy Lelievre family. With a calm manner, she does the tasks assigned to her to the satisfaction of her employers. She cleverly hides the fact that she is illiterate. Things start to change when she meets Jeanne (Isabelle Huppert). The film strongly echoes the case of Christine and Léa Papin sisters who, as live-in maids, were convicted of murdering their employer’s wife and daughter in Le Mans, France on February 2, 1933. The murder had a significant influence on French intellectuals which some considered symbolic of class struggle. It also inspired the play “The Maids” by Jean Genet.

The movie is spectacular as you can expect from the great, late Claude Chabrol who gives such a rich subtext into every action our characters make. It works as a character study and a suspense film and a social commentary. Until some point, you don’t realize what’s happening in this film or where it goes or if anything happens at all, but every single shot here serves to what’s awaiting us in the end and only when it’s over, you realize you’ve witnessed something incredible. This is a shocking film but not for the sake of shock and it explores themes like envy, jealousy, class division, and other themes deeply. The Guardian included it on their “25 Best Crime Films of All Time” list.

Now that 2021 is over, we can safely say that the world is slightly more normal than it was last year. We still haven’t completely returned to normalcy, but for most people, things are looking up. There’s a lot to be thankful for, and even though cinema might be low on a lot of people’s lists, it was still great to return to the movie theater after so long.

Moviegoers had it great this year. Not only did most major theaters reopen, we also got to see so many of the movies that had their release dates pushed forward. Some of those movies made it onto this list, while others, like The Green Knight, No Time to Die, and Last Night in Soho, deserve a shoutout even though they didn’t make the cut.

This best-of-the-year list isn’t entirely composed of hand-me-downs though. You’ll find a wide array of feature films below. The only thing they have in common is their quality. Each of the twenty entries below have earned their place simply because they’re phenomenal experiences.

Since a documentary list is on the horizon, this list will only cover narrative films. That explains why you won’t be seeing acclaimed documentaries like Flee, Summer of Soul, and In the Same Breath. These films absolutely deserve to be included in any end-of-the-year discussions, but they don’t fit the criteria of this particular article.

The twenty films below, however, do fit the criteria, and just like the aforementioned documentaries, they practically beg viewers to analyze and discuss. That’s why they’ve earned a spot.

20. Belfast

Kenneth Branagh has directed countless literary adaptations, ranging from Hamlet to Artemis Fowl. Dismissing some occasional misfires, Branagh tends to be a well-regarded director, but he also tends to be a relatively predictable director. Thankfully, the release of Belfast proves that he is more than capable of moving in new directions.

Nobody will mistake Belfast for arthouse cinema. It’s not like it’s a radical leap forward in cinematic storytelling. Rather, it’s a movie that pushes a well-regarded director into unfamiliar territory. We get to watch Branagh escape his comfort zone, and this ultimately results in his best film in over a decade.

It’s more than just a change of scenery that allows Belfast to stand out. Given the autobiographical nature of the script, it’s also Branagh’s most personal film to date. This is clearly a story that means the world to him, and you can see the passion that went into this project.

This passion is the driving force behind the film’s quality. Since the director is retelling events from his personal life, there seems to be noticeable sincerity and zeal. This all adds up to Branagh’s crowning achievement.

19. The Card Counter

Paul Schrader has never been interested in fast-paced action or propulsive drama. His films have always been slow, methodical character studies. Naturally, this has consistently alienated certain viewers. Even when he’s at his best, as was the case with First Reformed, people will find faults with his methodology.

This doesn’t change with The Card Counter. As usual, Schrader isn’t particularly interested in constructing an intricate narrative. His story is simple; it’s about a broken character on the hunt for meaning. William Tell, played by Oscar Isaac, has a lot to atone for when he’s released from military prison. This search for self-acceptance pushes the narrative forward.

Basically, your tolerance for this film largely depends on your ability to hone in on a character who’s hard to relate to and even harder to like. William Tell’s personal tragedies will not be enough to satiate some people, but there is an audience here. Schrader has crafted a weighty tale about a fascinating character who lacks the charisma of so many of our favorite heroes. Your mileage will vary, but if you can remain invested, you’ll likely find something that resonates.

18. Shiva Baby

Emma Seligman’s directorial debut is the anxiety-inducing Jewish comedy nobody knew they needed. In spite of a seemingly shallow premise, Shiva Baby sores thanks in large part to stylistic choices that feel completely innovative compared to so many other contemporary comedies. As such, it’s best to ignore any preconceived notions that might bubble up following a quick glance at the many humdrum plot synopses scattered throughout the internet.

Excuse the cliché, but Shiva Baby has to be seen to be believed. The basic set-up revolves around a Jewish woman who is forced to avoid her sugar daddy after an unfortunate encounter at a Jewish funeral service. It sounds like harmless fun, but it’s not that simple. Although the storytelling is rather predictable, nothing can prepare you for the idiosyncratic tone that permeates throughout this film.

Shiva Baby fits the blanket definition of comedy; it is entertainment intended to make people laugh. However, it also experiments with elements of horror because of its frantic editing and eerie score. It will almost certainly make you laugh, but the tense atmosphere is liable to make you bite your nails and cover your eyes. It’s hard to think of anything else like it, and that’s part of the reason why it remains so memorable months after its release.

Of course, films can’t get by on originality alone. They need standout craftsmanship as well, and luckily, Shiva Baby has that in abundance. No matter what you choose to scrutinize, everything comes together so well here. Seligman’s direction is second to none, and Rachel Sennott’s performance further elevates the material. This ultimately leaves us with something that’s both impeccably designed and wholly unique.

17. CODA

When CODA debuted at the 2021 Sundance Film Festival, it caused an absolute frenzy. Winning the U.S. Grand Jury Prize was just the beginning. It also broke festival records when it was picked up by Apple for $25 million. Now, almost a full year after its Sundance debut, people are still talking about it like it came out yesterday. It’s quietly picking up awards season steam, and honestly, a Best Picture nomination isn’t out of the question at this point. So what is it about this movie that appeals to so many people?

Honestly, it just makes people feel good. CODA isn’t a genre-defying arthouse drama or a psychological character study; it’s just a well-made coming-of-age story about a teenager trying to live her life the way she wants to.

Ruby Rossi, the protagonist, is a child of deaf adults. Her mother, father, and brother are all considered culturally deaf. Because of this, she has to make personal sacrifices in order to help her family function in the real world. Unfortunately, this means that she can’t grow up on her own terms. When she realizes this, she tries to prove to her family that she needs to live her own life.

Aside from the inclusion of deaf characters, CODA never attempts to reinvent the coming-of-age wheel. There are no jaw-dropping twists or profound revelations. Most viewers will know exactly where things are headed, but the execution does more than enough to keep this movie afloat. CODA is such a heart-warming story with such likable characters, it’s easy to forgive its formulaic nature. That’s precisely why it has resonated with so many people.

16. Zola

It all started with a series of tweets. Back in 2015, A’Ziah-Monae “Zola” King famously sent out 148 tweets describing her run-in with a “white bitch at Hooters.” It gained traction quickly, thanks in large part to a Rolling Stone article that outlined each and every juicy detail. While King admits to embellishing certain details, the overarching story remains true. One unfortunate encounter led to a life-threatening trip to Florida that involved violence, betrayal, and human trafficking.

The Twitter thread absolutely deserves to be seen, but the big-screen adaptation serves as a perfect companion piece. Zola, the darkly comedic retelling of King’s infamous story, takes all of the humor and soul from the tweets and translates it into a different medium. Thanks to a sharp script and superb cast, this movie justifies its existence and then some.

That’s particularly important because it’s hard to get on board with a movie based on social media posts. It shouldn’t work, but it’s hard not to be charmed by Taylour Paige’s charismatic performance. When this is paired with engrossing writing, you end up with something that defies expectations. Zola will burrow its way into your brain and stay there for days.

15. The Humans

The Humans is one of several movies on this list that takes something mundane and makes it compelling. On the surface, it’s a movie about a family gathering for Thanksgiving dinner. In reality, it’s a pseudo-horror movie about poverty and the struggles of the modern family. Director Stephen Karam takes his own one-act play and turns it into an unsettling nightmare that cleverly makes use of cinema as a storytelling device.

In the film, we’re immediately introduced to Brigid and Richard, a young couple who decide to host Thanksgiving dinner at their run-down NYC apartment. Brigid’s family, which includes her parents, sister, and grandmother, are the guests of honor. They intend to have an easy-going dinner, but it’s quickly made clear that will not happen. Tensions rise, conversations get awkward, and Thanksgiving dinner turns into an unmitigated disaster.

Karam’s direction helps push this film into uncharted territory. The family drama is certainly captivating, but that’s only one piece of the puzzle. The decision to create an atmosphere of outright horror really pushes the film forward. If you think the dialogue is stressful, wait until you encounter your first jump scare.

Although The Humans isn’t a horror film in the traditional sense, it often plays out like one. In an effort to keep tensions high, Karam and his crew make an active effort to catch viewers off guard whenever possible. This kind of unpredictability works in conjunction with an immensely talented cast, resulting in a movie that’s bound to keep the average viewer invested.

14. Little Fish

In Little Fish, viewers meet Emma and Jude, a couple who, like all of us, are living through a pandemic. However, this particular pandemic is a little different than our own. In their world, there is a widespread virus that wipes people’s memories regardless of age, gender, or geographic location. Little is known about the virus, and as such, there is no cure. It can happen gradually or all-at-once, and it can completely upend those who are affected by it.

As optimistic as the young couple tries to be, things go sour when Jude begins exhibiting symptoms. Is there room for love when you know your other half will soon forget everything about you? Little Fish seeks to answer those questions in a timely (albeit melancholic) sci-fi drama.

Although the relation to COVID-19 is strictly coincidental, Little Fish couldn’t have come out at a better time. It’s obvious that this fictional virus is deadlier than the coronavirus disease, but that doesn’t mean it’s incapable of helping viewers come to terms with what has been happening around the world for nearly two years. Although Little Fish tells a tragic story, it’s also therapeutic in its own way.

Even if we ignore the real world parallels, this remains a moving motion picture about love in times of tragedy. Chad Hartigan takes Mattson Tomlin’s compelling screenplay and weaves it into something special. Even with so many behemoth releases this year, Little Fish has earned its spot on this list without breaking a sweat.

13. Bergman Island

Mia Hansen-Løve isn’t exactly known for grandiose cinematic epics. Her films have always been quiet, contemplative, and modest in scale. This approach to filmmaking has allowed her to carve out a niche that has led to consistent critical acclaim. Her latest effort, Bergman Island, doesn’t make an effort to break free from this distinctive style. On the contrary, it feels like a natural evolution. She doubles down on the things that have worked throughout her career, and this allows her to deliver her greatest accomplishment to date.

It tells the story of two filmmakers who travel to Fårö, an island in the Baltic Sea that has become a popular tourist destination among cinephiles. Fårö was the home of Ingmar Bergman, one of the most prolific directors of any generation. Chris and Tony Sanders, the aforementioned filmmakers, are visiting as part of a residency program that would, in theory, help them with their upcoming projects.

Throughout the first third of the movie, the audience learns a few important things about the relationship between Chris and Tony. Tony is far and away the more successful filmmaker of the two. However, his success comes at a cost. Much like the titular director who once inhabited the island, Tony is far too concerned with his career to adequately care for the people around him. This results in a divide between the two protagonists, and this divide helps Chris develop a story of her own.

Basically, the drama between Chris and Tony functions as one half of Bergman Island. The other half revolves around a film-within-a-film that focuses on a very similar young filmmaker. Throughout the duration of Bergman Island, Chris crafts an ambitious screenplay about a young woman who struggles to find the right balance between the various aspects of her life.

Although the film doesn’t spell it out for you, it’s easy to understand why this metanarrative is featured. The two pieces meld together effortlessly, giving viewers a surprisingly cohesive drama that touches on a number of nuanced themes. A little bit of patience may be required in order to appreciate the many minute details, but that shouldn’t be a barrier to entry. This is a must-see for any film-lover.

12. The Last Duel

The Last Duel’s box office shortcomings are no secret. Ridley Scott’s $100 million historical drama managed to pull in a measly $30 million worldwide. This eventually led to poor word-of-mouth, especially after Scott tried to place the blame on millennials. Now, several months later, The Last Duel is mostly a punchline.

In reality, it’s so much more than a financial failure. It’s a visually impressive historical epic that feels particularly relevant in a post-MeToo era. You can rag on the questionable wigs and lengthy runtime, but these flaws are minor compared to the things that are done well.

The Rashomon-like framing device adds extra layers to an already dense story. Since every perspective is so different, the film avoids coming off as repetitive. In fact, it brings new life to a story we’ve seen before. On top of that, well-choreographed battles add a necessary sense of scale to an already ambitious movie. Box office failure be damned, The Last Duel rocks.

11. C’mon C’mon

If you’ve ever seen a Mike Mills movie, you know what to expect with C’mon C’mon. It’s a very simple, very human drama that flows naturally from one point to another. It never overcomplicates things because that would detract from the relationship between the characters.

This relationship is the heart and soul of the movie. Joaquin Phoenix and Woody Norman, who play an uncle and nephew respectively, form a bond over the course of one hour and forty-eight minutes. There are other things happening, but this bond is the glue that holds everything together.

Luckily, the connection between the two characters is sickeningly sweet in all the right ways. While C’mon C’mon isn’t exactly a crowd pleaser, it is an emotionally resonant drama with great writing and an even greater ensemble. It doesn’t break new ground, but it succeeds regardless.

Unconditionally worshipped by many, arduously hated by others—if there’s a constant with Tarantino is that he leaves no one indifferent. Throughout his 30-year long career, his work has been scrutinized, chewed-over and mass-consumed as much as that of any modern director. Quentin Tarantino is a tentpole in his own right, a brand and genre all by himself.

To this day, he still remains the best success story in all Hollywood—a self-taught video-store clerk who took the world by storm and became the poster boy for independent cinema. At the turn of the millennium, the New American Wave of the 70’s was nothing but a distant memory for a whole generation who grew up binge-watching MTV and browsing shelves at Blockbuster. Arguably no director filled that void as much as Tarantino, a certified film nerd who wore his geeky persona as a badge of honor. Overnight, he became the closest thing to a rock star the industry had, an exciting new voice who made of every new movie a mandatory appointment at the big screen.

His films seem to be in open rebellion with conventional storytelling, deliberately designed to defy and mock every label and trope. Unapologetically indulgent and openly self-aware—even at the expense of character depth—they soon became an entry point for millions of young viewers to the vast world of non-commercial cinema.

For ages, the director has vowed to throw in the towel once he reaches the tenfold of movies, which leaves us with one last rodeo (presuming he conceives Kill Bill as one film rather than two). Only time will tell whether Tarantino follows through on his promise or not. But as we bide our time until he delivers his final blow, let’s take a trip down memory lane and go over all of his films to date.

9. Death Proof (2007)

“Death Proof has to be the worst movie I ever made. But if that’s the worst I ever get, I’m good.”

It’s hard not to agree with Tarantino’s self-assessment here. Though it may rank dead last in this list, that’s not to say there isn’t much to love with his high-octane thriller. As a love-letter to the grindhouse and low-budget exploitation movies that the director himself devoured as a teen, Death Proof hits all the right notes. Originally conceived as a double-header to be screened along Robert Rodriguez’s Planet Terror, the film itself is both a homage and attempt at reviving the sleazy, underground theatrical experience of old.

Nostalgia proves to be the driving force behind the whole story—mainly towards the long-gone era of practical effects, where real people used to put their lives on the line to perform the same action scenes that are nowadays rendered digitally. Accordingly, the figure of stuntmen acquires a quasi-mythological status here—an admiration that would carry over on to his latest movie in the form of Cliff Booth. It’s only right that a Hollywood prop car rather than a knife or gun serves as the deadly weapon of choice for Tarantino’s quintessential slasher villain—Mike McKay—a deranged stunt double who preys on women and lures them into his four-wheeled killing machine.

All in all, it’s hard not to appreciate Death Proof for what it is—a heartfelt passion project disguised as a frivolous schlock-fest.

8. The Hateful Eight (2015)

Having Ennio Morricone score his Western surely must have been a dream come true for Tarantino. The legendary Italian composer had worked in some of his all-time favorite films, most notably Sergio Leone’s Dollars Trilogy and Once Upon a Time in the West.

The Hateful Eight takes a cue from another of Morricone’s iconic spaghetti western—Sergio Corbucci’s The Great Silence—not only in its snow-swept landscape but in the rotten individuals populating it. Granted, it’s not like Tarantino has ever been known for writing charming, law-abiding characters. But for the most part, the director has found a way to make his mean, hard-nosed crooks likeable or, at the very least, bearable. That’s not the case here—The Hateful Eight is saddled with a palpable cynicism that’s particularly hard to shake off and makes it virtually impossible to root for anyone on screen.

In pure Tarantino fashion, he took a page out of the western genre to make his own revisionist chamber drama. The story mostly takes place within the confines of a secluded log cabin where a bunch of bounty hunters are pitched against each other in a web of lies and deceit. There’s no denying that the film rewards our patience with a memorable climax, but the build up to it unfolds at a glacial pace that isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. For that reason, The Hateful Eight has become an outlier in terms of rewatchability as the first Tarantino joint to never fully justify its runtime.

7. Once Upon a Time in Hollywood (2019)

Ironically, the biggest virtue of this movie is the fact that it feels like the least Tarantino movie Tarantino has ever concocted. One common criticism of his work is that, for all their unapologetic confidence, they never seem to escape their own self-awareness. For the most part of his career, Tarantino has displayed an almost juvenile need to assert himself with every new film. As such, characterization has always taken a backseat to his penchant for referential gags and metatextual ramblings.

This Golden Age tale is detached from most of these trappings precisely because Tarantino keeps his worst tendencies at bay—notwithstanding an array of foot close-ups and meddling with history. Where in most of his films he’s in a race to one-up himself, here Tarantino savors each minute spent in this filmic time capsule.

In every regard, Once Upon a Time in Hollywood feels like a product of a seasoned filmmaker finally at peace with his own image and legacy. Whereas the build-up on The Hateful Eight evoked nothing but dreadful suspense, this movie fills you with bittersweet jubilation—at the same time celebrating a lost era while bidding it farewell.

6. Django Unchained (2012)

One frequent Tarantino trope is to play with our preconceived notions about generational A-list actors by casting them in subversive roles. In Pulp Fiction, he took America’s darling—John Travolta—and made him a lousy gangster who dies unceremoniously in the bathtub. In Jackie Brown, Robert De Niro—synonymous with assertive manliness—portrays a lazy pothead used for comic relief. Django conceals its villain until the very end, only to reveal Leonardo DiCaprio, of all people, playing a ruthless and racist plantation owner.

As far as foes go, Calvin Candie goes toe to toe with any in the whole Tarantino-verse—essentially stealing the show in barely thirty minutes of screen time. As a whole, the director’s first foray into the western genre has grown to be arguably his most divisive and inflammatory movie yet. Though it’s often considered as his best effort in the past decade, many fans wonder if QT bit off more than he could chew in his self-indulgent Pre-Civil War epic.

Violence has always been a hot talking point with Tarantino ever since Mr. Blonde sliced a cop’s ear to the tunes of ‘Stuck In The Middle With You’. But given the subject matter and historical backdrop, Django’s gratuitous bloodshed is particularly tough to sit through. It certainly doesn’t help either that Tarantino indulges in his worst habit by inserting himself in one long, cringe-inducing cameo. Which above all begs the question—is there a moral takeaway somewhere in this 165-minute-long revenge porn beyond its redundant anti-slavery slant? And if not, should that be held against the movie itself?

As recently as the 1990s, American movie lovers in search of films from abroad had few options. If they lived in a sizable city, they might have enjoyed access to an independent theater or video store that carried international titles, especially those that had become hits in their native countries. Occasionally a decades-old “foreign film” might appear on a late night broadcast of public television, so long as it was not too sexually explicit. Cineastes with more disposable income could purchase international movies on VHS tapes or laserdiscs through mail-order companies.

With the arrival of Netflix’s red envelopes in mailboxes across the country in 1997, international movies began to reach the American masses as never before on DVD. Still, more than a decade had to pass before the internet and mobile networks became widespread and robust enough to deliver feature films to the full range of desktop and portable devices.

By the 2010s, international movies had become readily available on a variety of streaming platforms both large and small, and international distribution had become a fundamental concern in the development of every major film in the United States and elsewhere. One genre that has travelled especially well, both out of the USA and back into it, is the thriller, since it capitalizes on the basic need of humans everywhere to safely confront their fears. Below is a list of 10 thrillers from around the world that made their mark in the 2010s and that continue to offer audiences strong exercises in suspense.

1. Headhunters (2011)

Morten Tyldum’s action thriller, the highest-grossing Norwegian film in history, is great fun. Roger Brown (Aksel Hennie), corporate headhunter by day and art thief by night, makes the mistake of stealing a valuable painting from a champion athlete and former member of the military’s special forces, who then pursues him using all of his stamina and skills as a tracker.

Everything we enjoy in a popcorn movie is here: wealthy, beautiful people behaving badly, intense chases, black comedy, high-tech gadgets, and implausible but engaging plot twists. Even a familiar, feel-good ending arrives: the inwardly insecure, but outwardly arrogant man is humbled and redeemed, a broken romantic relationship is repaired, and the villain takes the blame for the protagonist’s misdeeds. And all of the events are lit beautifully and edited together smoothly. Enjoy the wild ride, and thank goodness that Hollywood has not yet ruined it with a duller remake.

2. The Robber (2010)

Benjamin Heisenberg’s heist thriller, based on the true story of Austrian bank robber Johann Kastenberger, is more than fun and strikingly different from most other members of the subgenre. Many heist pictures, like Jules Dassin’s Rififi (1955) and its numerous descendants, gather a collection of crooks together, each with his own specialty, to form an ingenious plan to break into a seemingly impregnable institution and make off with a load of cash or a unique, precious item.

Heisenberg’s Johann Rettenberger (Andreas Lust) works entirely alone, brazenly bursting into banks’ front doors wearing a latex mask and carrying a shotgun, then literally running away with the loot. And no one can catch him, for Johann is also a champion marathoner. But greed does not motivate him; he spends none of the money, and instead places it matter-of-factly under his bed. Can Erika (Franziska Weisz), a caring social worker, or Johann’s watchful probation officer (Markus Schleinzer) deter him from his twin obsessions, both tests of his strength and rebellions against a society of mediocrity and constraint?

The movie’s look reflects Johann’s inner darkness; in place of the gloss and glamour of Hollywood heists like the Oceans franchise, Johann runs through a stone cold Vienna of desaturated colors. Watch him evade police and, for a time, his personal demons with uncommon will and fortitude in one of the strangest and most psychologically engrossing heist thrillers.

3. The Invisible Guest (2017)

Oriol Paulo offers audiences an atypical legal thriller, since the action takes place just before a murder trial begins. Tech entrepreneur Adrián Doria (Mario Casas) stands accused of killing his mistress Laura Vidal (Bárbara Lennie) in a rural hotel. Veteran defense attorney Virginia Goodman (Ana Wagener) comes to his apartment to prepare him for testimony, but insists that he tell her his story first, truthfully and without omission.

The flashbacks that follow contain nearly all of the tricks of the thriller trade — additional crimes, unreliable narrators, double-crosses — until a final revelation (drawn from a Hollywood ensemble crime thriller of the ‘90s) takes place in the movie’s present. The images provide a parade of beautiful people, clothes, cars, interiors, and landscapes, all lit in rich chiaroscuro and edited together seamlessly. You will find little thematic depth here, but the glossy surface and serpentine narrative make Paulo’s film — already remade three times in Italy and India — a fun and effective exercise in genre conventions.

4. Sun Don’t Shine (2012)

Amy Seimetz’s crime thriller is the opposite in its look, priorities, and power. The movie begins after the crime has been committed already, and the audience knows full well who is responsible. Young lovers Crystal (Kate Lyn Sheil) and Leo (Kentucker Audley) are speeding to St. Petersburg, Florida to dispose of the dead body packed clumsily into the trunk of their run-down car. The concept and the tension resemble Hitchcock’s Rope (1948), but Seimetz’s killers are more sympathetic. Both Crystal and Leo live near the bottom rung of the socio-economic ladder, where shared desperation and lack of opportunities have thrust them together.

Unlike the greedy characters of ‘40s Noirs, Crystal and Leo do not turn to lives of crime to attain fabulous riches; they do what they must as they try to reach even middle class goals: to live together in a modest home with as small yard, to hold down blue collar jobs, and to raise a healthy child.

But like Barbara Loden’s Wanda (1970), Crystal and Leo have only a burning desire to escape poverty and no resources or practical skills to do so. The look of Seimetz’s film is as stark as its characters. Made quickly on a shoestring budget, she makes the most of The Sunshine State’s natural light, low-tech camera workarounds, and two exceptional young actors. See how much drama can be made from so little in Seimetz’s ode to her home state, one of the most Florida movies ever made.

5. Black Coal, Thin Ice (2014)

The serial killer thriller is another long established subgenre, reaching back as far as Fritz Lang’s M (1931) and Hitchcock’s Psycho (1960). Yi’nan Diao’s version seems pressed from the original mold with the addition of some modern, Eastern touches. The narrative structure is familiar. Detective Zhang Zili (Fan Liao) returns from an ignominious retirement to pursue the serial murderer who escaped him years earlier. With the help of his ex-partner Wang (Ailei Yu), Zhang learns that the most recent killings are connected to the first in surprising ways.

The look is classic too. Static shots with meticulous composition and graphic editing suggest that Diao may practice the same exhaustive storyboarding during preproduction as Lang and Hitchcock. A near-wordless sequence in which Zhang pursues a mysterious man with ice skates looks as though it might have come directly from a Lang silent film. Diao’s picture may even outdo the German and Anglo-American Masters of Suspense in its moments of pregnant silence and discoveries of menace in the mundane. See that great filmmaking minds do think alike, despite whole continents and more than half a century separating them, in this highly polished, dark gem.

Classic sci-fi movies like Metropolis, Blade Runner, and 2001: A Space Odyssey have influenced future films within the genre immensely. The amount of discourse surrounding these films continues to grow to this day. Because of that, it’s best to leave those discussions alone; we’ve seen enough. Fans of the genre are well aware of the impact these movies have had on cinema.

That brings us to this list. Instead of discussing the big names, the focus will be on more obscure releases that hit just as hard. You’ll find a mix of cinephile favorites, cult classics, and completely forgotten science fiction gems here. What you hopefully won’t find is a list of movies that we’ve heard about time and time again.

The goal here is to broaden some horizons. Obscurity is not the same thing as poor quality. Films manage to fall through the cracks for numerous reasons, but that doesn’t mean they don’t deserve recognition. If that were the case, we wouldn’t need articles like this.

1. The Face of Another (1966)

Hiroshi Teshigahara is perhaps best known for 1964’s Woman in the Dunes, a film that earned him a Best Director nomination at the Academy Awards. Today, it’s widely heralded as one of the greatest films of all time. While it’s not quite as well-known as something like The Godfather, it has had plenty of attention given to it throughout the years. Unfortunately, the same can’t be said for The Face of Another, an equally experimental Kōbō Abe adaptation.

Although reception has grown warmer as the years go by, The Face of Another ultimately fails to get the recognition it deserves. It’s easy to argue that it lacks the gusto of something like Woman in the Dunes, but it has merits in other areas. In particular, it makes an effort to hone in on big questions.

Teshigahara attempts to look at the connection between mind and body. How much of your identity is tied to your appearance, and what happens when you dwell on how others perceive you? If your appearance drastically changes, do you lose part of your identity? These questions are explored with depth and care, which leads us to a movie that never talks down to its viewers.

The more intellectual properties stand out, but there’s also plenty to be said about the quality of the filmmaking. The Face of Another is a gorgeous motion picture with notable attention to detail. Teshigahara doesn’t just want to tell a thought-provoking story about a man who becomes unrecognizable; he wants to stun viewers with his exquisite craftsmanship.

2. On the Silver Globe (1988)

Out of every title on this list, On the Silver Globe stands out as the most peculiar. Andrzej Żuławski’s ambitious art film was never finished in the traditional sense. While the director was able to salvage a large percentage of his intended vision, we will never see a cohesive version of this film. Polish authorities shut down production in 1977, and although the film was technically completed years later, it wasn’t exactly given the Snyder Cut treatment.

This ultimately means that viewers need to adjust their expectations before diving into Żuławski’s dense sci-fi masterpiece. Due to the circumstances revolving around the production of the film, Żuławski chose to fill in certain gaps with narration. This obviously adds to the unfinished feel of the not-so-final-product. If you’re able to ignore the circumstantial faults, you’re liable to appreciate audacious scope and breathtaking visuals.

At the same time, it helps to have an appreciation of arthouse absurdities. On the Silver Globe isn’t as accessible as more mainstream releases. It’s often as extraordinary as it is perplexing. Viewers just need to understand that there are numerous intricacies that prevent casual viewing. You get out what you put in here, so set aside three hours of your time and let this unusual piece of Polish history take you on a journey.

3. Je t’aime, je t’aime (1968)

Je t’aime, je t’aime introduces us to Claude, a suicidal man who decides to participate in a time travel experiment. In theory, this experiment will allow him to go back to periods in his life for small increments of time. Things quickly go awry when Claude begins traveling to random moments in his life with no obvious pattern. With no control over when and where he appears, Claude’s mental state deteriorates.

To a lot of viewers, Je t’aime, je t’aime will come off as frustrating. Alain Resnais’s take on time travel doesn’t even attempt to tell a linear story. Instead, he floods viewers with fragmented pieces of the protagonist’s life. It’s up to the viewer to put the pieces together and determine the meaning of everything. It’s not completely obtuse, but it also doesn’t have the clearest of intentions.

Regardless, there’s so much to sit on here. Je t’aime, je t’aime practically begs viewers to watch it multiple times. Subsequent viewings uncover more pieces, but they also allow people to pick the protagonist’s brain apart. This kind of depth doesn’t come around often, so it’s best to power through and see what you can glean from it.

4. The Day the Earth Caught Fire (1961)

When you think about disaster movies, you probably think about Independence Day, Armageddon, and Twister. This subgenre has become chock-full of films that are heavy on visual effects and light on character development. This isn’t inherently troublesome, especially since most viewers watch them as a form of escapism. At the same time, it’s clear that there isn’t much variety when it comes to these types of releases. You know what to expect coming in, and while plenty of people will consider that a positive, there are others who want something different.

The Day the Earth Caught Fire is a far cry from the aforementioned films. Unlike so many other disaster flicks, the actual disaster happens in the background. This time around, the focus is on the individual characters who face their own personal disasters.

Peter Stenning is the overall protagonist here. He is tasked with learning more about the peculiar changes in the environment. Temperatures are out-of-whack, and it’s his job to figure out why. Unfortunately, he needs to face his personal demons before he can successfully complete this assignment.

In other words, this plays out more like a character study than a dumb, loud disaster movie. This approach works so well because, especially today, it allows the film to distance itself from so many loosely comparable movies. This is not the disaster movie we have grown accustomed to, and that’s a good thing. It’s smarter, leaner, and more effective.

5. The Man in the White Suit (1951)

Imagine all the money you could save if your clothing repelled dirt, dye, and anything else that could ruin fabric. The Man in the White Suit, a satirical science fiction comedy from 1951, attempts to bring that hypothetical scenario to screens across the world.

In the film, Sid Stratton attempts to invent a long-lasting clothing fiber that would make laundry significantly easier. Unfortunately, the corporate big-wigs aren’t exactly keen on a product that would, in theory, stop the flow of money. See, if the fabric couldn’t get ruined, there would be little to no demand for the product.

This all leads to a pretty scathing critique of capitalism. Since it’s a never-ending cycle, it becomes nearly impossible to escape. It’s pretty clever stuff, but it’s not the only thing keeping this movie afloat. On the contrary, Alexander Mackendrick’s underrated film continues to dazzle for a variety of reasons.

Outside of its clever premise, The Man in the White Suit also benefits from witty dialogue and an undeniably charming leading man. Alec Guinness gives Stratton a prominent dose of personality that pairs well with the sharp screenplay. When everything works together in harmony, which is often, you’re left with something special.

David Fincher needs no introduction. Almost three decades of filmmaking of the highest order more than speak to his name. In that time, he’s proven himself as one of the most consistent directors in the business—a certified workaholic who won’t settle for nothing short of perfection.

The reputation that precedes his name nowadays is that of a stern perfectionist who holds everyone around him to the same standard of excellence he applies to himself. Cerebral, slick, visionary… Some would argue methodical to a fault. But if there’s something certain with Fincher is that with him you get the whole package, a thorough professional that’ll go the extra mile to put up the best movie he can muster.

Fincher’s trajectory speaks for itself; a former visual effects producer who made a name for himself in music videos and commercials before helming a perfect string of cultural tentpoles in the 90’s. He’s stayed ahead of the curve ever since, whether it is by perfectly capturing the zeitgeist with his films or, more recently, by paving the way for the streaming revolution with marquee television series.

After dropping his biggest outlier yet in Mank, all signs point to Fincher returning to his roots to do what he does best—nail-biting thrillers. He’s not only the closest thing to a superstar we have left in the genre, but the man who pushes its frontier with every new film he releases. Hot on the heels of the announcement that his upcoming project—titled The Killer—is moving forward and set to arrive next year, what better time than now to go through his impressive body of work.

11. The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (2008)

If there’s something that can be said for the majority of Fincher’s work is that they rarely overstay their welcome. From Se7en and Panic Room all the way to Gone Girl, one of the best attributes of his films is how they never seem to miss a beat. Superb editing, nerve-wracking pace and an almost obsessive attention to detail… All of these are things we’ve grown to love and expect from a filmmaker of his caliber. Kicking off this list, we turn to a movie that is the very antithesis of everything that David Fincher stands for.

This loose adaptation of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s short story is not only aggressively bland but choppily edited and unnecessarily long. As a meditation on mortality, the only valuable takeaway one gets is the feeling of having aged a decade by the time the credits start rolling. Gone are any kind of character development or inner conflict—or for that matter any semblance of chemistry between its two leads. For a film banking so much on its CGI—and considering Fincher’s impeccable track record in that regard—the technology just isn’t there and the end result is unconvincing.

Arguably the only ‘curious’ aspect about Benjamin Button is the fact that Fincher decided to pick it up. He kind of set himself up for failure by doing so, because the saccharine source material asked for a director with the sensibilities of a Spielberg or Zemeckis, not the king of moody, nihilistic thrillers.

10. Alien 3 (1992)

If there’s one film that’s fallen out of favor even among the most loyal of Fincher’s acolytes, that’s his widely panned entry in the Alien saga. The off-screen drama makes for an even more fascinating story than the film itself. Long story short, Fincher was brought on board at last minute to try to steer a sinking ship in the right direction. For a mostly unknown music video director at the time who still had a long way to go to become a household name, being thrown into a situation like this was a daunting challenge. The whole production left a sour taste on Fincher, who promised never to let studio heads compromise his vision again.

As many other franchises like Star Wars, Alien is faced with a big conundrum: you can’t try to recreate the same feel of the original without becoming stagnant, and by straying too far from it you risk hurting the overall continuity of the saga. In what originally was a tough pill to swallow among the fanbase, Alien³ took everything it inherited from Aliens and threw it out of the window within its first fifteen minutes.

Fast forward three decades later and many viewers have come around to the film, which has experienced something of a newly found appreciation lately. Nobody will argue that it’s a masterpiece, but the latest Assembly Cut elevates what was a complete dumpster fire into a serviceable—if painfully forgettable—90’s flick.

9. Mank (2020)

Fincher’s latest film has turned out to be his most divisive one yet. For many of his devotees, who had to endure a six-year hiatus since his last project, a slow-burn period drama on 1930’s Hollywood came a bit out of left field. That isn’t to say there isn’t much to love. If anything, it’s crystal-clear Fincher poured his heart into this passion project—something that can’t be said for either of the previous two entries in our list.

Mank tackles a movie-lore behemoth like Citizen Kane by supporting the highly-disputed theory that Herman Mankiewicz and not Orson Welles did all the heavy lifting on its script. The film presents itself as a cautionary tale on the predatory nature of the entertainment business told through the spiritual endeavors of a martyred screenwriter—the kind of self-loathing interrogation of the industry that, ironically enough, Hollywood seems to adore.

As a heartfelt tribute to every artistic creator out there, Mank hits all the right notes—it’s as a historical account that it bites off more than it can chew. It’s not so much that Fincher seems out of depth—on a technical level Mank is as impressive as any of his previous efforts—but rather that the film never escapes its own tediousness. Drunk on its self-aggrandizing rhetoric, Mank fails to do what any worthy biopic should—that is, justify its own existence.

8. Panic Room (2002)

Every list like the present one should come with a big disclaimer: when passing judgement on all-time directors, one should keep in mind that even their supposedly ‘minor works’ are, by normal standards, highly enjoyable affairs. And especially if you’re someone like Fincher, who single-handedly dropped three of the best thrillers in recent memory, some of your work is bound to fall through the cracks.

Our next film meets such criteria. Panic Room is David Fincher’s twisted Home Alone rendition, where a divorced mum and her teenage daughter fend off a trio of incompetent intruders. The film is generally swept under the rug as the one where the director played it ‘safe’ in his most conventional popcorn flick to date. Admittedly, when you pitch it against the rest of his moody pieces, it doesn’t quite pack a punch. But what Panic Room may lack in gravitas and scope compared to Zodiac or Se7en, it more than makes up on sheer entertainment value. In fact, the story fully benefits from the small scale and self-contained narrative.

Above all, Panic Room is an experiment on visual style, an open canvas where Fincher showed off every camera trick up his sleeve. Every tracking shot, whip pan and tilt is charged with purpose and makes the most out of the film’s limited environment. It may not rank as the most transgressive work in Fincher’s catalogue, but in all likelihood didn’t deserve all the flak it got upon release.

7. The Game (1997)

Fincher fully understands that the essence to every thriller lies not so much in the resolution but in the suspenseful build-up to it. Accordingly, he tends to play his cards close to his chest—keeping the viewers at bay and always one step behind him. In this morbid retelling of A Christmas Carol, Michael Douglas plays a grumpy San Francisco banker who reluctantly agrees to partake in a mysterious game for his birthday. One could argue that Douglas’ character is a stand-in for each one of us every time we decide to embark on a David Fincher movie—an oblivious individual playing catch-up while a master puppeteer pulls the strings from behind the curtain.

As Douglas tries to make sense of all the cruel twists of fate that keep befalling him, Fincher puts us in a constant state of paranoia, double-guessing every bit of information we’re given at every turn. And just when we think we have a grip on things, he throws yet another twist at us, each wilder than the last. It’s almost like every movie he puts together is a sick, staged game with the sole purpose of teasing his viewers.

If there’s anything keeping this one a tier below his landmark work is the outlandish climax and suspension of disbelief required from the viewer in order to take it seriously.

Tired of watching the same old three movies? We’ve got you! Bored by the umpteenth remake? We’ve got you! Curious about hidden sci-fi gems waiting to be experienced? We’ve got you!

 Here’s a list of under-appreciated 2010s sci-fi movies for your thirst for new visions. We’ve got everything you need – from arthouse interpretations of the genre to genre-bending alterations, and more!

1. AUN – The Beginning and the End of All Things (2011)

Investigating the future of mankind, faced with environmental crises, “AUN – The Beginning and the End of All Things” is a very current movie. Written in collaboration with Reinhard Jud, director Edgar Honetschläger immerses us in a painfully beautiful rendition of the human quest for survival and improvement.

During the process of inventing a new alternative energy source – an engine that burns water – a Japanese scientist dies from experimenting with a sea snail discovered by his son Aun (Hiyori Yuki). Twenty years later, another scientist from Brazil named Euclides (William Ferreira) keeps experimenting in the same field, recognising how the sea snail could be the essential element for a renewed future for mankind.

“AUN – The Beginning and the End of All Things” offers an art-house perspective on the themes of the apocalypse and the end of the world. It is characterised, firstly, by a tasteful use of camera movements and cinematography; especially the latter makes an intelligent use of lights and shades. At the same time, the potentiality of the movie is elevated by the soundtrack, composed by Christian Fennesz and featuring landscapes of sounds that captures the listener entirely. Lastly, Honetschläger’s movie also offers substance, other than form, between the philosophical and the poetical.

 A must see!

2. Antiviral (2012)

Written and directed by Brandon Cronenberg, “Antiviral” mixes the sci-fi and horror genres in a satirical and bloody story. The movie by the Canadian director – son of body horror king David Cronenberg – also competed in the 2012 edition of the Festival de Cannes, in the section Un Certain Regard.

Syd March (Caleb Landry Jones) works at the Lucas Clinic, an enterprise with an odd business proposition. The clinic first extracts pathogens from famous celebrities, who get sick; then, it injects such viruses to paying clients, who want to feel more connected with their favourite celebrities. As a side hustle, Syd uses his body as an incubator of the viruses, being able to transport them out of the clinic and sell them to the black market. However, Syd will encounter problems when he tries to steal the best-selling virus of the company.

First things first: It is evident how Brandon

Cronenberg’s “Antiviral” owes something to the body horror legacy of his father. Nonetheless, the director is able to show his own capabilities perfectly, giving his own taste and twist to the sub-genre. What captures the attention of the viewer is the flawless technical rendition; the camera movements perfectly capture the evolution of the movie, from aseptic and cold to dark and bloody. At the same time, the movie is packed with a caustic and satirical vision of the economic system and its blind thirst for profit, no matter how morbid or repulsive the product may be.

 A future cult film!

3. The Machine (2013)

Starring Caity Lotz as an artificial intelligence researcher named Ava, and Toby Stephens as Vincent McCarthy, a scientist with a secret personal mission, “The Machine” combines science fiction and thriller in a aesthetically pleasing and brain-teasing story, playing with the rising discussion about artificial intelligence and its ambiguous potentialities.

In the future, the city of Taipei, Taiwan is about to fall to the Chinese. The British government, in an effort to prevent that change of power, seeks to find militarily ruthless soldiers who are also fluent in Chinese. After a first deadly attempt to install a cybernetic implant on brain-damaged soldiers to restore their functions, Vincent is able to develop stable cyborgs. His recruitment of scientist Ava in the mission will change the course of the story permanently.

“The Machine” hits you first with its stylistic and slick aesthetic, where images, sounds, and costumes conspire together to materialise the vision of director Caradog W. James, who also wrote the script. Suddenly, though, once your eye is getting used to the beautiful compositions of James, the movie starts to release information for your brain; the story and its reflections on our reality more and more characterised by machines, unpacks a possible consequence of the development of sophisticated artificial intelligence devices. It’s up to the viewer, then, to decide on the ambiguous character of such devices.

This British sci-fi thriller captures you with its style and then convinces you with its substance. Food for the eyes and the brain!

4. As the Gods Will (2014)

Based on the eponymous manga series by Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Akeji Fujimura, “As the Gods Will” is everything you can expect from a Takashi Miike movie. Mixing science fiction, horror, and comedy, this Japanese release is again further proof of the creative and always developing Asian cinema.

Shun Takahata (Sota Fukushi) is a high school student who spends too much time playing violent video games. One morning, his life suddenly changes completely, when he is forced – with his classroom – to play the game of Daruma-san ga koronda (Red Light, Green Light). The penalty for those who lose is as simple as terrifying: death.

You can never go wrong with Takashi Miike, even with a minor movie, because of his immense and magnificent career. Combining the structure of a video game, surrealist humor, and a good portion of blood, “As the Gods Will” is a sui generis sci-fi that doesn’t shy away from thrilling and action sequences either. As always, the Japanese director is able to construct a world of its own in his movies, while at the same time aiming for bending genres and style into something different.

 Thought-provoking, funny and terrifying.

5. Realive (2016)

Marc Jarvis (Tom Hughes) has been diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer: he is terminally ill. In an attempt to save himself, he decides to freeze his body in cryostasis. Seventy years later, in 2084, Marc is resurrected. Being the first person to come back alive, Marc starts to question the meaning of his life and the relationship between life and death.

Written and directed by Mateo Gil, “Realive” mixes convincingly melodramatic elements with a philosophical underpinning.

Aside from the convincing and solid technical aspects of the movie, it’s the philosophical element that emerges mostly from the script: being the first man to be resurrected, the protagonist has to overcome the unprecedented feeling of having beat death and must adapt to his new life. Gil not only describes the immense spiritual journey of Marc, but convinces the viewer to embark in that journey too; while watching the movie, you will be inclined to address the same questions and doubts of the main character, empathising and relating to him. 

“Realive” is food for the brain, without a doubt. This movie cannot be watched just to spend time, just to have a couple of hours off. Substance, substance, substance.

Arguably no name in the business creates as much fuzz, anticipation and polarizing reactions as Christopher Nolan. In an industry where every other auteur seems to have been pigeonholed indefinitely into streaming platforms, the Londoner is the closest thing to a superstar we have left. He’s part of a dying breed of filmmakers who can demand gargantuan budgets and full creative freedom to any given studio and still get away with it.

By operating in that blurred line between conventional commerciality and high-concept auteurism, he’s earned a place as one of the most important directors of our time. Love him or hate him, nobody else encapsulates Millennials and Gen Z’s cinema tastes better than Nolan. In an era driven by established franchises and online criticism, the Londoner has risen to the occasion with the perfect storm of fairly accessible but thought-provoking movies custom-made for mass consumption.

He’s second to none when it comes to crafting bright, inventive concepts, even though he often has a hard time wrapping his arms around them. His most arduous of critics point out to his paper-thin characters and self-aggrandizing vanity as his Achilles heel separating him from the pantheon of legendary directors. Casual audiences and box office returns would disagree since, after all, each one of his movies is an event of its own.

Hot on the heels of the announcement for his next project — an Oppenheimer biopic due for 2023 — what better timing than now to look back and pass sentence on each of his eleven movies to date.

11. Tenet (2020)

Nolan has always been, first and foremost, a conceptual director. Ever since his early debut, characterization has taken a back seat to his intricate plot puzzles. For the most part though, there’s still a semblance of emotional core that holds his movies together and — to a certain extent — makes it easier to stomach his excessive penchant for dry info dumps.

Sadly, that isn’t the case with Tenet. In his latest mindbender yet, Nolan seems in a race with himself to prove he can fit as much stuff as ever, coming up with his most impenetrable plot to date. From palindromes and inverted physics to an uninspired Bond-esque spy scheme — the film is deliberately bloated and obtuse, almost as if to reaffirm its own cleverness. Nolan’s weaknesses have never been as apparent as in his latest endeavor — it almost feels like he thought of the big set pieces first and then tried to build a story around them. He’s so uninterested in his characters here that he didn’t even bother naming them and half of the dialogue is inaudible.

By the end of the film, Tenet is so far removed at an emotional level that, no matter how huge the stakes seem, it’s hard to care at anything happening on screen at all.

10. The Dark Knight Rises (2012)

Let’s not beat around the bush — The Dark Knight Rises has aged like milk and simply doesn’t hold up on its own anymore. In 2012, with expectations through the roof, Christopher Nolan faced arguably his biggest challenge — to live up to a cultural behemoth like The Dark Knight and deliver a satisfying conclusion to the most influential superhero saga since Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man. As luck would have it, both trilogies suffered a similar fate. Overstuffed narratives and a surplus of villains are some of the many underlying problems with their respective final (and painfully mediocre) installments.

In the case of this movie, Tom Hardy’s take on Bane falls completely flat — even moreso coming off Heath Ledger’s iconic Joker. But it’s Nolan seeming incompetence at wrapping things up that hurts it the most. We’re left with a bloated three-hour victory lap full of baffling inconsistencies and shoehorned subplots that don’t amount to nothing — never quite justifying its own pomposity. If there’s something to be learned from this epic misfire is that bigger doesn’t necessarily mean better.

9. Insomnia (2002)

If there’s one movie in Nolan’s oeuvre that’s fallen out of favor even among his staunchest supporters, that’s Insomnia. There are some reasons — some more warranted than others — why it’s been swept under the rug and widely dismissed as a ‘minor’ work. For starters, this remake of a 1997 Norwegian film of the same name in no shape or form improves upon its source material. As a whole, it also feels the most detached from Nolan’s signature style — closer to something David Fincher or Michael Mann would put together. The film does make use of one of Nolan’s narrative staples — nonlinear storytelling — to amplify the foggy atmosphere and mental burden of our insomniac protagonist. But especially when pitched against some of his later high-voltage thrillers, Insomnia can feel kind of tame — a film with a lot of build-up that doesn’t quite pack a punch.

As for the positive aspects of this film, Insomnia certainly benefits from its rather small scale and limited budget. As we’ve learned on many occasions throughout his career, Nolan tends to get carried away when he’s handed a blank check to do exactly what he wants (case in point: the previous two entries of this list). Overall, Insomnia is a solid (if a bit innocuous) affair that’s probably gotten an excessive bad rap among the fanbase.

8. Following (1998)

One underrated value of revisiting early works by great directors is how rewarding it can be to notice the gradual evolution and artistic strides they make throughout the years. Christopher Nolan’s directing debut is no exception. The film follows a struggling young writer too curious for his own good who crosses paths with a small-time crook, only to find himself embroiled in a criminal scheme.

By the time of its release, Nolan had a long way until coming to his own as a filmmaker and growing into the household name he is today. But still, Following offers us a glimpse of many motifs that would eventually become trademarks in his career — including a nonlinear structure, clever plot twists and undercooked female characters. As an amateurish effort made on a shoestring budget ($6,000), this film can feel rough around the edges if you decide to judge it without proper context. Granted, Nolan’s narrative chops would need some ironing out, but all things considered he crafted a serviceable debut that serves as a good steppingstone for better things to come.

Overall, this is definitely worth a watch for any completionist out there who’d like to see Nolan take his first baby steps towards stardom.

7. Dunkirk (2017)

In the past few years, we’ve experienced something of a growing trend with big directors who go outside their comfort zone and test their limitations. Their safest bet in order to claim some silverware come awards season has been, by far, the period war film. From Mel Gibson to Sam Mendes most recently, we’ve gotten plenty of auteurs trying their luck at this oversaturated subgenre that the top brass in Hollywood seems to eat up. Nolan, who by this time of his career feared he’d be forever typecast as a director of spandex-wearing vigilantes, decided to follow in Spielberg’s footsteps and make his own gritty World War II epic.

Similar to Mendes’ 1917, Dunkirk was marketed at the time of its release as a visual wonder without precedent — a one-of-a-kind experience you could only pay justice by witnessing it in the biggest IMAX screen. There’s no denying that the film feels monumental in size and scope, and on a purely technical level you could argue Nolan has yet to reach the same heights again. But at the end of the day, Dunkirk is nothing more than an exercise in style — a pretty impressive one at that — that ultimately fails to provide any kind of meaningful introspection or moral takeaway.

It is relatively safe to assume that the term cult film sits under a broad umbrella of ‘so bad they’re good’ monster movies, low budget horror, comedy misfires, and many more genres and subgenres of cinema.

So, let’s begin by looking at ten cult films, mainly from the 20th century, some of which are perhaps more famous or accomplished than others. Some of these films may have more lavish production values than others, while others may have been lifted from the bargain bin by a stellar cast or a prized best seller. Whatever the case, all of the films listed are worth revisiting.

1. Overlord (1975)

Director Stuart Cooper spent over 3,000 hours reviewing newsreel footage in the film archive at the Imperial War Museum before he and his co-author Christopher Hudson wrote their screenplay for this British war film from 1975.

Essentially, Overlord is two films. The central narrative is the personal story of Tom (Brian Stirner), a quiet young man called up to join the war effort, who begins his assault training, meets other more confident soldiers and prepares for the D-Day invasion. Acting as a hook to hang some suspense on, a premonition of a soldier falling in the dirt recurs throughout the narrative, along with some surreal imagery involving Tom and a young woman he meets in a bar. The other part of the film is archival footage depicting the world that Tom inhabits. This is a mixture of remarkable British and German newsreel footage, which cinematographer John Alcott seamlessly splices together with the contemporary live-action footage of Tom. Alcott shot the live-action footage of Tom with a newly found German lens from the 1930s, which Alcott fixed and mounted onto his camera, giving the crisp black and white footage a different quality and tone.

Overlord is a remarkable film, a quasi-docufiction championed by no less than The Imperial War Museum and the Ministry of Defence. Indeed, The Imperial War Museum helped design sets and costumes for the film, helping to lend the film a sense of authenticity. Overall, Overlord is a perfect combination of startling documentary footage and a mournful and intimate portrayal of a soldier’s life in World War Two.

2. Clockwise (1986)

John Cleese reins in his Basil Fawlty persona for this quiet and quintessentially English comedy. Cleese plays school headmaster Brian Stimpson, so obsessed with time and punctuality that Stimpson runs his school and entire life with clockwork precision. Stimpson is invited to a headmasters’ conference in Norwich, where Stimpson is the first headmaster from a comprehensive school to chair this all-important annual conference.

En route to the conference, Stimpson misses his train and accepts a lift from a mouthy schoolgirl (Sharon Maiden). Misunderstandings and farcical situations escalate and swallow up the narrative as Stimpson’s long-suffering wife Gwenda (Alison Steadman), the police and the schoolgirl’s confused parents chase Stimpson to Norwich. Most of the humour found in Clockwise derives from screenwriter Michael Frayn’s choice to make Stimpson, at first glance, supercilious and obsessive over timekeeping. Yet, Frayn also allows Stimpson to have a heart, his primary motivation being to make his school and its pupils proud.

On its original release, some of the more quaint and colloquial English humour failed to find an international audience, which Cleese would remedy in his next film by importing American stars and adding a much brasher style of comedy into A Fish Called Wanda. Yet, with its gentle characterisations and cosy middle England sensibilities, Clockwise has much to offer; British stalwarts Penelope Wilton, Geoffrey Palmer, and Sheila Keith all help prop up the cast. The gentle humour woven throughout the many comical situations and the observations on class help position Clockwise as an overlooked cult classic.

3. Dog Soldiers (2002)

Over twenty years had passed since Hammer last offered up anything remotely horrific, and the horror genre got a new lease of life Stateside with The Blair Witch Project, not to mention the Scream franchise and its many derivative knock-offs. However, the beginning of the 21st century saw the resurrection of British horror. Dog Soldiers concentrates less on interesting characterisation and focuses all its efforts on jump scares and some well-judged black humour. Tapping into the lad culture of the period, and at the same time revisiting a tried and tested sub-genre of classic horror, a group of soldiers on manoeuvres in the Scottish Highlands gets attacked by a family of werewolves.

After meeting a mysterious woman (Emma Cleasby), the group make a run for it and find refuge in a remote cottage in the middle of nowhere. The framework of trapping your protagonists inside a house as evil lurks outside, demanding to get inside, is a time-tested trope of horror cinema. Resembling the very best in horror cinema (Evil Dead, Straw Dogs, The Night of the Living Dead), the ensuing siege of soldiers versus werewolves is as violent as it is funny. Director Neil Marshall, who had been trying to get the film made since the mid-1990s, ditches the drama of the original Wolfman of the 1940s and pushes Dog Soldiers into Aliens territory as seven-foot lycanthropes besiege a tiny cottage while macho soldiers fight for their lives. Undoubtedly, Dog Soldiers is a certified cult classic of British cinema, bolstered with a fine cast and impressive visual effects.

4. House of the Long Shadows (1983)

Director Pete Walker, who carved out a career as a horror specialist in the 1970s with such films as House of Whipcord, Frightmare and House of Mortal Sin, was responsible for bringing together four titans of horror cinema. Vincent Price, Christopher Lee, Peter Cushing and John Carradine were all brought together in a genre of horror even older than they were – that of the old dark house.

Based on the novel Seven Keys to Baldpate by Earl Derr Biggers, House of the Long Shadows begins with some nonsense about a smug young author called Kenneth Magee (Desi Arnaz, Jr.), who makes a bet that he can write a book about love and “human passions” within twenty-four hours. Needing somewhere totally isolated and with a bit of atmosphere, Magee heads to an old country house in Wales. Magee finds a typical old dark house, complete with wall to wall thunder and lighting and the introduction of Carradine, Cushing, Price and Lee.

In one sense, you could look at House of the Long Shadows as a horror tribute film to the horror stars of yesteryear. Yet you could also view the film as a horror parody, perhaps in the way Neil Simon’s Murder by Death poked fun at the murder mystery genre. This might have worked if House of the Long Shadows had one memorable joke in its entire running time. Whatever the case, House of the Long Shadows is an odd film. In the early 80s era of Michael Myers and Jason Voorhees, how strange, yet glorious, to see four past masters of horror cinema, all together for the first and only time.

5. The House that Dripped Blood (1971)

Another anthology film from Amicus, with a screenplay by Robert Bloch. Celebrated as the author of Psycho, Bloch crafts a horror jukebox of vampires, voodoo and wax museums, all set within the four walls of The House That Dripped Blood.

Due to the episodic nature of the anthology film, Amicus Productions would hire prominent film stars for short periods of filming. With this third anthology film, producers Milton Subotsky and Max J. Rosenberg struck gold by employing a trio of horror icons. Christopher Lee, who would soon price himself out of the horror genre with a career move to more international fare, is in top form here in one of the best stories, as a father mysteriously terrified of his seven-year-old daughter. In a sombre and moving performance, Peter Cushing plays a lonely art lover who finds a lost love in a wax museum. And in a final more comedic segment, the voluptuous Ingrid Pitt is suitably cast as a vampire, along with Jon Pertwee, fresh from his first season as the third Doctor Who.

Before falling out of favour with audience expectations and American investment in the mid-1970s, Amicus produced a string of anthologies and horror films during the 1960s and into the 1970s. Among these, The House That Dripped Blood stands firm as an example of classic British horror, tame by today’s standards of screen violence but assured in devilish storytelling by H.P. Lovecraft devotee Robert Bloch, and rich in art direction by Amicus regular Tony Curtis.

Many auteurs are praised by their range — Paul Thomas Anderson, the Coen Brothers, Altman, Kubrick, Scorsese… the list goes on and on. The biggest virtue for these masters lies in how they’re not bound to any genre or style but to their own greatness. Wes Anderson is a man of many qualities but not that one in particular. In a sense, watching one of his movies is like ordering up your favorite dish at a restaurant. Deep down, you assume there must be better things in the menu, but at least you know what you’re getting into and in all likelihood won’t regret your choice.

You either love him or hate him, but with Anderson there’s no mistaking what dish you’re having. If you have a penchant for symmetrical framing, gaudy production design, inventive camerawork and zany humor, he’s your guy. And what he may lack in variety, he more than makes up in sheer consistency. More than two decades of filmmaking of the highest degree is more than evidence that he belongs in the same conversation with the very best directors of this era.

Wes Anderson has turned his style into his own manifesto — one he abides in each of his ten films. For him, the screen is a canvas to be filled as intricately and aesthetically-pleasing as possible. Throughout the years, he’s become a household name in the industry — almost a genre of his own — simply because there’s nobody quite like him.

Hot on the heels of The French Dispatch wide release, there’s no better timing than now to make a trip down memory lane and go through every Wes Anderson movie to date.

10. Bottle Rocket (1996)

Wes Anderson never flinched from ambition. As is the case with the best of auteurs, even his misfires and supposedly ‘minor’ work are, by normal standards, enjoyable affairs. Inevitably, some film had to rank dead last in lists like this, but one should keep in mind it’s only within the context of a consistently great body of work.

Anchored by two charming performances courtesy of the Wilson brothers, Bottle Rocket chronicles the endeavors of two erratic friends who scheme a number of heists together. Wes Anderson hadn’t found his footing just yet when he decided to reimagine his 13-minute short into a feature film, and the end result can feel a bit rough around the edges. Granted, it’s a more than serviceable debut that manages to find a proper balance between drama and comedy while offering glimpses of the same motifs that would become staples in his career.

But still, there’s a reason why it’s always been neglected among fans, as it feels by far the most detached from Anderson’s unmistakable flair. The pacing really suffers and the story can feel a bit meandering at times, especially when you pitch it against any of his rapid-fire ensemble pieces. Overall, Bottle Rocket is definitely worth a watch for any Anderson completionist who wants to see the film that put him on the map as one of the most intriguing directors in the business.

9. The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou (2004)

No modern director comes even close to working with as many A-list actors as Wes Anderson does. If there’s a common thread between all ten of his films is the nauseatingly stacked line-up of stars that brings them to life. From common collaborators (Bill Murray, Owen Wilson, Willem Dafoe) to Oscar-winning actresses (Cate Blanchett, Anjelica Huston), Life Aquatic is no exception to the rule. In the case of this film in particular, it proves to be both its blessing and curse. With such a plethora of fascinating characters at his disposal, Wes Anderson is in a race with himself to give each one their moment to shine, and the overarching plot can feel a bit bloated as a result.

The movie throws us into a journey of self-discovery across the seven seas aboard the Belafonte, renowned-oceanographer Steve Zissou’s boat. For the titular character, the quest to crack down and destroy the elusive shark that killed his partner becomes a cathartic adventure where he gets the chance of confronting his inner demons and rekindling his relationship with his alleged son. Anderson once again covers familiar territory here — from middle-aged existentialism, coping with loss and grief to surrogate family dynamics.

As a textbook example of both his strengths and weaknesses as a filmmaker, Life Aquatic is a more than solid entry point for those eager to dive right into Anderson’s work.

8. Rushmore (1998)

Rushmore was, in many ways, Wes Anderson’s coming-out party — a film where he showed he had overcome the growing pains of Bottle Rocket and finally come to his own as a filmmaker. The story puts us in the shoes of Max Fischer, a socially-awkward, aimless teenager who’s still trying to figure out his interests and life goals. Long before Scott Pilgrim, Juno, Booksmart and the tidal wave of nerdy coming-of-age stories normalized it in the following decades, making a film in 1998 about a neurotic — borderline unbearable — teen was gutsy (let alone one who’s infatuated with his high school teacher).

Unsurprisingly, Wes Anderson’s style lends itself perfectly to the awkwardness of adolescence, and by his sophomore effort he’d fully ironed out his quirky humor and deadpan deliveries. Paternal figures, or lack thereof, take center stage in most of his stories, from Life Aquatic, Moonrise Kingdom to Budapest Hotel. Max, who befriends the father of his classmate to fill that void, joins Anderson’s extensive list of young characters longing for a strong role model.

Few films illustrate the trials and tribulations of being a social misfit better than Rushmore, and as long as you can stomach some occasional obnoxious behavior from its main character, you’re in for a treat.

7. Moonrise Kingdom (2012)

All Wes Anderson’s movies share the same whimsical essence — innocuous but adventurous narratives wrapped in cozy color palettes. In that regard, no current director challenges us to embrace our inner child as much as him. In Moonrise Kingdom, he captured that magical sense of wonder and discovery that comes from an early age, where the whole world seems at your grasp for the taking. The story begins with two rebellious 12-year-olds, Sam and Suzy, who decide to run away together — a thought that’s crossed all our minds at least once at that particular age. Drenched in that yellow-infused filter Wes’ loves so much, a 1960’s New England island serves as the ideal backdrop for what’s easily one of his best-looking films to date.

Once again, Moonrise Kingdom touches themes of authoritative figures in youth through the Scout Master, Suzy’s parents and the police captain. On a similar note as Rushmore, it perfectly depicts the growing alienation between a teenager and its environment, and the need to assess oneself by defying authority.

In terms of how it stacks up against the rest of his oeuvre, Moonrise has grown to be quite divisive, with some fans hailing it as one of Wes’ finest while others argue it lacks emotional depth. Overall, the film seems like one Anderson made on autopilot by indulging on his biggest tendencies and idiosyncracies — which isn’t really a knock because it does work this time around.

6. The Darjeeling Limited (2007)

One common criticism that gets thrown around often when it comes to Wes Anderson is that his meticulously crafted affairs are — for all their visual splendor — emotionally barren. We return to the same-old debate of style over substance, whether it applies in his case and even if it should be held as a valuable form of criticism in a visual medium like cinema. Whatever the case may be, those who dismiss the entirety of Anderson’s work as frivolous affairs with no emotional backbone will find a pretty solid rebuttal to their claims in The Darjeeling Limited.

Wes’ acolytes might be surprised at how high this film checks in in this list. After all, arguably no movie of his has been met with such a lukewarm reception. The most generous of critics deemed Darjeeling as an uninspired retreat to overtly familiar themes and tropes, while the most incisive dubbed it as an unusual blunder that blemished Anderson’s otherwise impeccable track record.

Following their father’s death, three bickering brothers are forced to bury the hatchet and do some much-needed self-reflection during a train trip across India. Far from being a flop, The Darjeeling Limited is in reality one of the most rewarding watches in his oeuvre. Other than The Royal Tenenbaums, this is Wes Anderson’s ultimate bittersweet story — one that’s not afraid of going in darker directions than usual in order to explore siblings’ dynamics, coping with grief and healing through bonding.

Denis Villeneuve’s long awaited sci-fi epic has finally arrived to every theater and television worldwide. Opening to rave reviews and over performing at the box office, to say that it’s been a big success would be an understatement. Right now, there’s simply no bigger movie than Dune.

Equal parts a Homeric adventure, environmental thesis and an indictment on religious fanaticism, the film tells the story of Paul Atreides — a reluctant hero gifted with prescient powers and destined for glory. Villeneuve accomplished quite a feat by introducing millions of non-readers to a complex world with an exhaustive lore without sacrificing any of the mysticism that defined the novel in the first place. What once seemed like an uncertainty has now become an afterthought with Warner Bros officially greenlighting the sequel that will wrap the main story up, set to release at some time in the fall of 2023.

As we anxiously count the days until we return to Arrakis, we thought of assembling a line-up of films that should scratch the itch fresh off Villeneuve’s epic. From cerebral sci-fi, anti-colonialist parables and desert odysseys, let’s go through each one of them.

1. Lawrence of Arabia (David Lean, 1963)

Sweeping vistas of the desert, nomadic tribes and a white saviour leading them to revolt against their oppressive tyrants. Barring giant sandworms, Dune enthusiasts will find almost everything they could be looking for in David Lean’s masterpiece. The story is a loose retelling of T.E. Lawrence’s endeavors throughout the Middle East as a British officer during WWI, where he served as an advisor to the Arabs in their fight against the Turks.

His journey closely mirrors that of Paul Atreides’ — an outsider thrown by chance into the wild desert who gets acquainted with their indigenous people and soon develops into their messianic leader. These similarities are far from trivial. After all, Frank Herbert was inspired by Lawrence’s Seven Pillars of Wisdom when concocting his own space opera. The Fremen are modelled after Arab and Islamic culture, while Arrakis’ spice mining is all but a stand-in for the oil wars of the Middle East. Both Paul Atreides and Lawrence equally subvert the traditional hero archetype as two cautionary tales about the dangers of imperialism and religious fanaticism.

If you still need further convincing, take it from the man himself. “Lawrence of Arabia is to cinema what the pyramids are to architecture”, argued Villeneuve while introducing Lean’s film in a recent festival. The French-Canadian claimed that watching it as a 19-year old on the big screen was a life-changing experience that had a tremendous impact on his psyche and creativity. “It’s a timeless masterpiece, a massive landmark in film history and my own film development. Lean was able to find a very impressive balance between the scope and epicness and the intimacy of the main character’s journey”.

2. Stalker (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1979)

Arguably no science-fiction film has ever triggered as much in-depth analysis as Andrei Tarkovsky’s cryptic masterpiece. From an atheist manifesto to a Cold War allegory, it’s been labelled and regarded in almost every conceivable way. And yet, what’s made the film stand the test of time is the way it fully lends itself to contemplative introspection, still opening up to new interpretations all these years later.

Three men make their way through The Zone, a mysterious abandoned outpost where the laws of physics often don’t apply, rumored to contain a supernatural room that grants the innermost desire to those who enter it. For these three travellers, ignorance is bliss, and far preferable to confronting their inner demons — even at the expense of enlightenment. Through their choices and various exchanges, we get to learn their clashing ideologies. A writer and a professor, obvious stand-ins for idealism (arts) and pragmatism (science), are shown to be two sides of the same coin — equally poisoned by cynicism and terrified of a force beyond their comprehension.

Through the virtues of the titular character, who acts as the guide to the other two, Stalker drives home a simple but powerful message — faith, love and altruism are mankind’s redeeming qualities, and it’s upon ourselves to live by them. If you get a kick out of films like Dune where the journey far outweighs the destination, you’d hardly find one that warrants as much self-reflection as this Soviet classic.

3. The New World (Terrence Malick, 2005)

No modern director has pondered over mankind’s role in nature and the world as extensively or concisely as Terrence Malick. A humanist first and foremost, he’s been forever preoccupied with this concept and wrestled with his own metaphysical concerns throughout his career. Every Malick film is, to a certain degree, an indictment on the human race — often lamenting how low it has fallen and begging us to return to our roots. Materialism, prejudice and warmongering pose as the biggest obstacles towards spiritual harmony, something that will elude us as long as we’re bound by them.

The New World is a distillation of all Malick’s signature themes, a poetic meditation on the essence of conflict and compassion that recounts the violent exploits of British settlers in the Americas. From hypnotic scenery, lyrical voice-overs and an impressionistic narrative, the film checks all of his common trademarks. On a similar note to Paul Atreides, British captain John Smith arrives at an alien land, finds solace among the natives — falling in love with one — and begins to question his ties and duty to his people.

When it comes to anti-colonialist cinema, you’d be hard-pressed to find a more poignant tale than The New World — a spiritual wake-up call vouching for simple, human empathy.

4. Aguirre, the Wrath of God (Werner Herzog, 1972)

One of the biggest takeaways in Dune is that nature can be unforgiving. No matter how unrelenting mankind is in its pursuit to mold it to its liking, it can never be fully tamed. Villeneuve’s film perfectly illustrates this theme through its rough setting. Unlike most sci-fi tentpoles, Dune’s world is harsh, dreadful and borderline inhabitable. Life in Arrakis is ridden by water shortage, deadly weather and giant sandworms — by any metric not the kind of place you’d fancy for a vacation. But only there you can find the most valuable asset in the known universe — melange. Controlling this spice has triggered decades-worth of corporate profiteering and power struggle between rulers (the latest being the feud between the Harkonnen and Atreides).

Greed and cruel despotism are also the root of all evil in this cult classic courtesy of Werner Herzog. The film documents a 16th century expedition by Spanish conquistadores in search of El Dorado, the legendary city of gold rumored to lie hidden somewhere in the former Incan Empire. The Amazon proves to be a ruthless jungle driven by survival of the fittest, where any semblance of ethics is far outweighed by lust for power. Their quest for glory is soon riddled by famine, malady and betrayal, and with every drawback the characters begin to show their true colors.

Aguirre is a descent into madness — a proto-Apocalypse Now predating Coppola’s epic — that’s as fascinating purely as a narrative film as the mindblowing production that brought it to life.

5. O-Bi O-Ba: The End of Civilization (Piotr Szulkin, 1985)

In Dune’s world, religion is shown to be the most lethal form of submission — a shared mythos that spreads like a disease and keeps the masses tamed. The Sisterhood of Bene Gesserit are shown to be experts in planting the seeds of superstition with fabricated legends of false prophets. In their desperation, the Fremen place all their hopes in the Lisan al-gaib, a legendary messiah who will allegedly lead them to glory.

This bleak Polish thriller made in the tail-end of the Cold War perfectly summarizes the need for myth and delusion in the face of despair. The film takes place inside an underground bunker that hosts the remains of human civilization after a nuclear holocaust deems Earth’s surface completely inhabitable. The story follows a jaded bureaucrat tasked with spreading the rumor that a saviour ship, the Ark, will soon come to their aid. This empty fabrication — deliberately conceived by the top brass to appease the masses — is eventually hailed as the ultimate salvation, with even the most skeptic holding a glimmer of hope.

There’s a lot to talk about William Friedkin. He has made some of the greatest films of all time (“The French Connection,” “The Exorcist”); some of his films were ahead of their time (“The Boys in the Band”); some others became cinephile favorites (“Sorcerer,” “To Live and Die in L.A.”) and also, not every director manages to make bold and original films in his later career like he did with “Bug” and “Killer Joe.”

When you look at his filmography, it’s full of surprises. He actually made an acclaimed new version of “12 Angry Men” in the ‘90s and even got an Emmy nom for that. He directed operas all around the world, popular music videos for Laura Branigan and Barbra Streisand, and very good episodes of shows like “The Twilight Zone” and “The Alfred Hitchcock Hour.”

If you see him in any of his interviews, you get to see an intelligent, well-informed, very witty and funny man. No wonder such a unique personality has a great taste of his own. Friedkin has made films in many different genres and he doesn’t necessarily like to categorize films by genre, but one thing is true – due to his popular movies, he’s often associated with thriller/action or horror cinema. Here we’ll look at 10 of his favorites that might please you also.

10. Take Shelter (2011)

There are these dark, terrifying clouds in the sky, the strong wind, and a seemingly happy family. Curtis LaForche has apocalyptic dreams and visual and auditory hallucinations of rain and being harmed by people close to him. He tries to hide it but the more he tries, the worse it becomes. It turns into an obsession and gets out of control after some point. It’s hard to understand what’s going on. He tries to get help but it doesn’t necessarily work. Is it an obsession, some kind of mental disorder or is he the prophet?

You’d be the judge while you watch, but one thing is for sure, the movie is about fear of loss. The loss of your house in a storm or loss of your family or maybe worse: losing your own mental health. Director Jeff Nichols and actor Michael Shannon are some of the best director/actor duos of recent times. Their collaborations always deliver but “Take Shelter” might just be their best work in terms of atmosphere, rich themes, and incredible acting and direction. “I really liked the whole film,” said Friedkin on his Twitter account in 2012, which is no surprise. “Take Shelter” is one of the most gripping films of the 2010s.

Friedkin film to watch later. “Bug” (2006). As great as “Take Shelter” is (or “Midsommar”?), “Bug” is something else. It’s one of Friedkin’s best. A frightening, funny, thought-provoking, thrilling ride with terrific performances by Ashley Judd and Michael Shannon, who once again plays a man we just can’t be sure whether he’s genuinely insane or if there’s something more going on.

9. Eye in the Sky (2015)

A team of British military and politicians, US drone pilots, and local Kenyan forces observed the gathering of Islamist terrorists in Nairobi. When the surveillance cameras show that the terrorists are equipped with explosives and may be preparing an attack, those responsible have to decide: should they launch a drone attack and bomb the building, even if civilians in the residential area are in danger; or take the risk that the terrorists leave the house with the explosives?

Drone war technology has created its own war dilemmas, as it’s also shown in another film appreciated by Friedkin of the same year called “Good Kill” (2015). Is the life of one innocent child worth the chance to save many more? That’s the question the film wants to ask and once again shows that new technology doesn’t necessarily make old problems go away. The movie is led by a powerful performance by Helen Mirren and unfortunately, it’s also the last live-action film to feature Alan Rickman, who died in January 2016. Friedkin described the film as “a thought-provoking, suspenseful film that will hold and move you long afterward.”

Friedkin films to watch later: Billy has also always been interested in the military as is obvious from his films “Rules of Engagement” (2000) and “The Hunted” (2003). Since “Eye in the Sky” also follows a courtroom drama-like structure, it’s probably more similar to the former, but “The Hunted” is another underrated one, sort of like a more subtle version of a Rambo story with breathtaking action sequences.

8. Compliance (2012)

From 1992 to 2004, employees at restaurants across 32 states in America were conned into performing illegal strip searches, among other sexual acts, by a phone caller who claimed to be “the police.” This mostly occurred in rural areas. The incidents were basically some guy calling a restaurant or a grocery or whatever, claiming to be a police officer and then convincing managers to conduct strip searches of female employees and then to perform other bizarre acts on his behalf. The film follows a similar kind of plot. It starts out as a normal Friday service at a fast food restaurant, when the manager gets a call from someone who claims a worker stole something from him and then things get out of control.

This is one of the films that takes you to places you don’t want to go and is definitely not an easy watch, but one thing for sure – you’ll keep thinking about it long after seeing it. Friedkin said the movie is “one of the best films” he had ever seen and particularly praised Pat Healy’s performance. Though the rest of the cast is truly equally strong and the direction is fantastic as well.

Friedkin film to watch later: After a disturbing tale like this, it’s better to watch a rather entertaining, a funny robbery movie maybe? Friedkin has also made a film inspired by real-life crimes and that one is called “The Brink’s Job” (1978).

7. Arbitrage (2012)

New York multimillionaire and hedge fund manager Robert Miller is about to sell his company for a profit. Around this time, he happens to be in a car accident one night where his mistress gets killed. Fearful of jeopardizing the multi-million dollar deal, Miller flees from the scene of the accident and hides his tracks. Soon more troubles will follow.

“Arbitrage” works great as a thriller because for one thing, it’s unpredictable. When Tim Roth’s detective questions our main character, played by Richard Gere, you get anxious while watching it. But it also works amazingly as a character study. Not only that, but it even manages to manipulate the audience to somewhat root for Gere’s character even though he’s clearly on the wrong side. This is also because it’s one of Gere’s best performances and Gere is always at his best when he uses his charm and relaxed screen presence for something darker. Friedkin didn’t just enjoy the film, but he even gets his name mentioned in the end among the people “the director wishes to thank.”

Friedkin films to watch later: Even though it’s not necessarily an erotic thriller, it has that seductive tone of those films in the ‘90s. Friedkin has made one of such in “Jade” (1995), an entertaining and unpredictable film. It got harsh reviews, maybe because the critics were getting tired of the genre or they just hated Joe Eszterhas at that time (even if you dislike “Showgirls,” it hardly deserved any of the hate) but it’s a good film that deserves more recognition. Also, Richard Gere was Friedkin’s first choice for “Cruising” (1980).

6. The Spiral Staircase (1946)

Now let’s lean into a little more horror area a bit. “The Spiral Staircase” works both as psychological horror and a thriller. Set in the early part of the century, one serial killer targets disabled women. Beautiful young mute Helen is a domestic worker for the elderly, ailing Mrs. Warren, but one night, in a thunderstorm, she feels menaced.

Friedkin says: “It’s a mystery story as much as anything else. It’s about a guy who kills women who have certain afflictions. You don’t know until the final scene who this killer is. In that final sequence, [the lead character, a mute played by Dorothy McGuire] comes face-to-face with him. She, of course, can’t tell anyone who the murderer is. It’s from the 1940s, but it still holds up.” And he’s absolutely right. It indeed holds up well, highly benefitting from a strong lead performance, chilling atmosphere, and a couple of strange characters. Ethel Barrymore received an Oscar nomination for her performance as Mrs. Warren.

Friedkin film to watch later: Since we’re in the horror area, it might not be a “psychological horror” (though he did that one terrifically as well, with “Bug”) but the obvious go-to answer here is “The Exorcist” (1973). Speaking of films that hold up well, it’s hard to skip this one. It’s still a chilling, scary, thought-provoking film and just brilliantly crafted all around. Definitely one of the best directorial works in cinema history.

Thrillers are nearly as old as movies themselves. In the silent era of the 19-teens and ‘20s, directors like Fritz Lang placed German audiences into heightened states of suspense, while actor Lon Chaney kept American moviegoers on the edges of their seats. Shortly after sound became standard in the ‘30s, many German directors fled the Nazis to Hollywood, where they became major influences on the Film Noir that developed in the ‘40s and beyond. Alfred Hitchcock, the English “Master of Suspense”, came to California around the same time.

And from the beginning, thrillers split into subgenres: crime thrillers, action thrillers, horror thrillers, sci-fi thrillers, social thrillers, political thrillers, and even romantic thrillers. By the end of the twentieth century, all of them remained popular and blended familiar conventions with the special issues and anxieties of the day. Below are 10 eccentric, exciting thrillers of the 1990s drawn from around the world that show the influence of Hollywood classics and add novel ideas and approaches from their native cultures.

1. Shallow Grave (1994)

Many Noir pictures of the ‘40s tell stories of ordinary, upstanding citizens who cross the line into crime out of desperation or driven by greed. Director Danny Boyle’s feature debut inserts this premise into the typical ‘90s situation of young professionals living together, but the result is no Friends. After three Edinburgh flatmates, including long-haired Ewan MacGregor, decide to conceal the death of the fourth and keep his large stash of cash, they find themselves beset by suspicious police, a pair of violent thugs, and their own paranoia. The trio’s in-fighting recalls the gold crazed prospectors of John Huston’s The Treasure of Sierra Madre (1948), and MacGregor’s monologue evokes William Holden’s in Billy Wilder’s Sunset Boulevard (1950).

The black humor, soundtrack, and fashions are pure ‘90s, though. Striking visuals like the silhouetted burial scenes and a lighting effect created by a powerdrill driven repeatedly through an attic floor would return in later Boyle films, along with MacGregor. Look askance at your own roommates as you watch Shallow Grave together.

2. Insomnia (1997)

Detective thrillers made up the second type of ‘40s Noir picture, and they gave rise to countless television police procedurals in the decades that followed. Director Erik Skjoldbjærg creates a Blanc rather than a Noir by setting his crime story under the twenty-four hour sunlight of the Norwegian Arctic — relentlessly bright, but without warmth. During the investigation of a local murder, sleep deprivation leads Detective Jonas Engstrom (Stellan Skarsgård) to make a fatal mistake. A double-chase in Hitchcock’s style develops, as Engstrom tries to escape from a trap of his own making and to catch the killer.

Can anyone make a picture as bleak and tormented as crime thrillers of the ‘40s? “Hold my aquavit…” replies Skjolbjærg with Insomnia. Skip Christopher Nolan’s lukewarm, watered-down Hollywood remake of 2002.

3. La Femme Nikita (1990)

Luc Besson’s spy thriller draws heavily from Hitchcock’s Notorious (1946), in which government agents coerce a vulnerable woman to do the dirtiest work of international espionage. To this premise Besson adds the stylized action of the James Bond films. And like 007, Nikita (Annie Parillaud) struggles to maintain healthy human relationships thanks to her occupation as a trained assassin, making her a vulnerable and sympathetic character, despite her sex appeal and lethal skills.

Besson’s film was so successful that it inspired remakes in Hong Kong as Black Cat (1991) and in Hollywood as Point of No Return (1993) as well as two short-lived television series in Canada and the U.S. In the years that followed, playing a female assassin became a regular role for many Hollywood leading ladies: Geena Davis in The Long Kiss Goodnight (1996), Jennifer Garner in Alias (2001), Angelina Jolie in Salt (2010), Saoirse Ronan in Hanna (2019), and many more. None match Parillaud and Jeanne Moreau in La Femme Nikita, though, and no American director presents his antiheroine’s actions so strongly as state exploitation.

4. Open Your Eyes (1997)

Director Alejandro Amenábar seems to offer audiences a romantic thriller. After a party, César (Eduardo Noriega) spends the night with Sofia (Penélope Cruz), though he does not sleep with her. The next morning, César’s jealous ex-girlfriend attempts to kill him and herself, but fails. The disorienting experiences — flashbacks? dreams? madness? — that interrupt César’s recovery, however, begin to steer the movie into psychological and ultimately science fiction territory.

Follow the thread forward, then backward in the Spanish original. Placing Penélope Cruz in the path of Tom Cruise, on screen and in life, was the greatest scare of the duller, more conventional Hollywood remake, Cameron Crowe’s Vanilla Sky (2001).

5. eXistenZ (1999)

In the last year of the ‘90s, the Wachowskis’ The Matrix was the dominant sci-fi, action thriller at the box office. Audiences tripped out on its world-within-a-world structure and sleek, cyberpunk visuals. But David Cronenberg’s sci-fi thriller of the same year is more complex, more prescient, and more gloriously icky.

Here, people voluntarily leave behind the everyday world to become characters and play out adventures in the virtual realities of the latest gaming consoles, biologically engineered pods that plug directly into the users’ spines. Ted Pikul (Jude law) reluctantly enters the newest game to assist its creator, Allegra Geller (Jennifer Jason Leigh), as she flees assassins sent by a Luddite group. Quivering pods, the sweatshop where workers harvest the organs of mutated amphibians to build them, and a gun made of animal tissue that fires teeth challenge the viewers’ stomachs, while their minds try to determine which, if any of the story’s layers can be trusted as genuine “reality.” Ponder your own relationship to the real and the virtual after seeing eXistenZ and before losing yourself in the next video game, streaming series, or social network phenomenon.