The 100 Greatest Movies of the Decade

Your time is precious, so we’ll take it from the top…

1. Whiplash (2014)

What is it about Whiplash? I’ve been reckoning with this question since three friends and I saw it on a late Friday night five years ago. And I keep coming back to this conclusion: the movie is total bullshit. I don’t believe in any of Whiplash’s fundamental assertions. I don’t believe that great art is exclusively the byproduct of verbal abuse and self-destruction. I don’t believe that loving human relationships with, say, your concerned father or your sweet-as-honey girlfriend, are a roadblock to achieving greatness. I don’t believe that a memorable life filled with tragedy is preferable to a forgettable life filled with joy. And I sure as hell don’t believe in mother f’ing jazz. But, and this is a big but, I do believe that Andrew Neiman (Miles Teller), Terence Fletcher (J.K. Simmons) and director Damian Chazelle believe these things. That makes Whiplash a horror movie, and a damn fine one. Like any good horror flick, I first experienced this one in a taught upright position–heart pounding, lungs gasping for air, vocal cords making my shock and awe known to the theater. It was a thrill ride to the final climactic frame. But I also noticed this underlying sense of perverse comedy, emblematic of so many classic horror films. The comparisons to Stanley Kubrick’s Full Metal Jacket are obvious, but you could just as easily equate Fletcher’s hazing of his students to a death scene from a slasher flick–it’s grotesque, perhaps a bit disturbing, but the violence is so absurd that laughter is the only appropriate reaction. I don’t care to know any of the characters in this movie, nor attend any of their jazz band rehearsals. But like The Shining and Jaws and The Exorcist and The Silence of the Lambs, Whiplash confronted me with a terrifying element of the human soul that I haven’t been able to shake. Quite my tempo.

2. The Social Network (2010)

When I ruminate on cinema’s great director/screenwriter collaborations, I think about Martin Scorsese and Paul Schrader on Taxi Driver, Sidney Lumet and David Mamet on The Verdict, Steven Spielberg and Steven Zaillian on Schindler’s List, Roman Polanksi and Robert Towne on Chinatown, Tony Scott and Quentin Tarantino on True Romance, Paul Feig and Emma Thompson on Last Christmas and, of course, David Fincher and Aaron Sorkin on The Social Network. But what sets the Fincher and Sorkin apart from the rest of the list is how fundamentally different they feel. Fincher’s films are cold, interior, usually quite cynical, while Sorkin’s scripts are known for their showy monologues, their airy humor and, most notoriously, their schmaltz. A Few Good Men ends with Tom Cruise’s idealistic lawyer defeating Jack Nicholson in a war of words. Se7en ends with Gwyneth Paltrow’s head in a box. That’s the difference. But in Social Network, these diametrically opposed artists manage to bring out the best in one another. In Sorkin, Fincher found a snappy writer of dialogue to combat some of his dour impulses. And in Fincher, Sorkin found an expert storyteller to convey his obsession with toxic male figures with an appropriate sense of tone and drama. Look at the work they did this decade apart from one another–most notably Gone Girl and Steve Jobs– and the truth becomes self-evident: they’ve each never been better. Oh, and Jesse Eisenberg as Mark Zuckerberg may be the defining film performance of our generation.

3. Silver Linings Playbook (2012)

Go ahead, let me have it. Pummel me with your opinions. Crucify me with your comments. Assail me with your takes. I’m a big boy who can handle it. I’m also a big boy who adores Silver Linings Playbook, and there’s no universe where it doesn’t make my top three. I’m not sure what happened over the past seven years that turned the critical consensus against this movie (I suspect it was some combination of J-Law fatigue, David O. Russell hatred and skepticism towards the depiction of mental illness, but then again, Film Twitter is a difficult thing to pin down). Still, we mustn’t forget just how electric Silver Linings was upon its release–the palpable sexual tension, the poignant father-son dynamic, the evil bookie who takes action on amateur dance competitions. Look, maybe I’m just a degenerate gambler who likes making fun of Philly sports fans, dreams about dancing with Jennifer Lawrence and wants Robert De Niro to his dad. Or maybe, just maybe, I’d love this movie if it wasn’t manufactured in a lab specifically for my enjoyment.

4. Manchester by the Sea (2016)

Is it possible that this movie is both the most devasting watch of the decade and also the most hopeful? It feels like a contradiction, but then again Manchester by the Sea is full of those. And that’s a testament to writer/director Kenneth Lonergan, who manages to deftly avoid cliché at every turn, despite the story practically begging for it. In the hands of a more conventional screenwriter, I’m not sure this tale of unthinkable tragedy works nearly as well. In fact, you can spend much of the movie imagining some of the familiar Hollywood beats that aren’t there–a flashy monologue for the Oscar reel, a halfhearted attempt at redemption, a character saying “everything’s gonna be alright.” Lonergan, who’s most notable work is in live theater, penned a script with none of that BS. Rather, he decided to explore the subject of grief in the ways truest to life–with silence, with emptiness, with the small moments in between the big ones and, most crucially, with humor. As a result, Manchester feels more alive than any other film of its kind.

5. Once Upon a Time … in Hollywood (2019)

Recency bias? Maybe. I think my bias towards Quentin Tarantino movies is a more likely culprit, but either way the top five placement seems high. I don’t care, because I love virtually everything about this movie–from the soundtrack that’s dominated my Spotify rotation, to the enveloping sense of atmosphere that makes L.A. feel like your backyard, to the revisionist ending that makes an incredibly earnest case for Hollywood’s resiliency and to Leo and Brad who have both never been better. Still, the star here is QT, who miraculously unlocks a new gear in his directorial repertoire. We’d long waited for the transgressive auteur to put away the squibs and crash zooms and settle into a more intimate story. And after Django Unchained and The Hateful Eight (both fun, yet heavily stylized westerns), I’m sure many of us wondered if he was even capable of going there. He was, and he did. In Once Upon a Time, Tarantino finally found the characters, the script, the era and the subject matter to deliver his most personal and introspective film yet. Let’s hope the reports of his retirement have been greatly exaggerated.

6. Inside Llewyn Davis (2013)

No film on this list has risen higher since initial viewing than the Coen brothers’ understated musical dramedy. By no means did I dislike Inside Llewyn Davis when I first saw it. And with the ethereal cinematography of Bruno Delbonnel and a Pacino-esque display of silent domination by Oscar Isaac, how could I? But I remember being frustrated by the prospect of a movie, set in the Greenwich Village folk scene, decidedly NOT about Bob Dylan. It took a few re-watches–as is the life cycle of most Coen projects–to realize how colossally wrong I was. Because of course, the movie IS about Dylan–his voice, his persona, his life experience, his point of view, his rejection, his isolation, all belonging to a cinematic avatar of a different name. In fact, the only obvious difference between Bob Dylan and Llewyn Davis, is that the former is Bob Dylan and the latter is not. And somehow, in the context of this movie, that detail is both the most insignificant and the most profound.

7. Get Out (2017)

History books are a hard thing to predict. But I suspect when we look back at the pop culture output of the 2010s, we’ll identify the death of the monoculture. Sure, there is still a popular consensus around what movies get made and seen, most of them uncoincidentally financed by the Disney Corporation. But not The Avengers nor the new Star Wars nor any movie featuring a blue Will Smith have the urgency and cultural staying power of some of the great water cooler classics. I’m talking E.T., Titanic, Jaws, Avatar, Jurassic Park–hell, I’m sure there are some not directed by Steven Spielberg or James Cameron. These movies captured a zeitgeist, stuck around in the public consciousness and made you feel like an outsider if you hadn’t seen them. They don’t make ‘em like that anymore, or I suppose, we don’t watch ‘em like that anymore. Get Out is the one notable exception. That Jordan Peele’s Hitchcockian social thriller became a box office smash and picked up a screenplay Oscar is not to be diminished. But if I were to identify its greatest accomplishment, I would point to the sunken place and to Catherine Keener’s teacup and to Daniel Kaluuya’s catatonic tears and to Lakeith Stanfield’s screaming of the film’s title and to every last detail that will be quoted, referenced and dissected for years to come.

8. Mad Max: Fury Road (2015)

As a Jets fan, I’m paralyzed by my hated of the New England Patriots. But as a functioning human being who watches football, I have a begrudging respect for Bill Belichick and Tom Brady. If I was to rank the greatest NFL head coaches and quarterbacks, it would be an act of delusion to not place them at the top. That’s Mad Max: Fury Road. I don’t think I’ll ever fully embrace this movie on a personal level, but I can’t help but respect the craft. Thirty-six years after the first installment in his post-apocalyptic franchise, George Miller delivered a follow-up so ambitious, so thoughtful, so exhilarating, so well-acted, so expertly shot, so ingeniously edited and so singular in vision, that its seismic impact is impossible to deny. As Niccolo Machiavelli once said, who needs love when you have a flame-throwing electric guitar?

9. Moneyball (2011)

Is there a nerdier movie pitch than “a biopic about the rise of Sabermetrics?” Let’s brainstorm. A dark comedy about rival bar trivia teams? A documentary about the world’s most exclusive Dungeons and Dragons campaign? A heist movie, except the loot is a crate of broken Bon Iver records? Nah, I’m going with the baseball stats movie. It’s a marvel that Moneyball was greenlit in the first place, never mind the massive movie star and the $50 million budget. But the script–a joint effort between Steven Zaillian, Aaron Sorkin and Stan Chervin, who each wrote a draft–pays such close attention to the subject matter, the audience can’t help but buy in. Moneyball makes trading for Ricardo Rincon feel like disarming a nuclear bomb. It makes a first-round playoff elimination in the ALDS feel like the ending of Empire Strikes Back. And, most importantly, it makes baseball statistics feel like something anyone can enjoy, not because it dumbs them down but because it opens them up.

10. Widows (2018)

As heist movie escapism, Widows works like a charm. Three commanding lead performances from Viola Davis, Michelle Rodriguez and Elizabeth Debicki, a pulpy second act twist from Gillian Flynn, scene-chewing dialogue from Bobby Duvall and whatever the hell Daniel Kaluuya is doing here–all divine. But what elevates the movie above, say, The Italian Job or Snatch or other popcorn flicks destined for basic cable licensing deals is Steve McQueen, who possesses a mastery of the craft rarely seen in genre fare. Great directors use the camera to communicate what they’re interested in. And as the camera in Widows curiously wanders through the city of Chicago, it becomes clear that McQueen is barely interested in the heist at all. Widows is a film about class, race, the wealth gap, domestic violence, political corruption and, ultimately, how these elements interact in the social structure of the American city. In the film’s best scene, Colin Farrell’s political candidate sits in his town car as the camera tracks the vehicle’s exterior. We hear Farrell interrogate his aide about having sex with a black man, but we can’t see his face behind the tinted windshield. Instead, we take a tour through Chicago, from the ghetto to an affluent neighborhood, passing by the people Farrell is too distracted to look at himself. These are the details that make Widows one of the best films of the decade–details that are rarely in focus, but always in the frame.

11. La La Land (2016)

I feel like La La Land has been lumped in with other nostalgic Hollywood musicals, thus carrying a reputation for being loud, corny and overly sentimental. Let me assure you: this movie may be loud, and this movie is certainly corny, but I’ll fight anyone in the streets who calls it sentimental. In his follow-up to Whiplash, Damian Chazelle once again pays homage to his first two loves, jazz and film, but this time as a Technicolor throwback to Hollywood’s golden age. Ryan Gosling plays the jazz musician and Emma Stone, in an Oscar-winning role, plays the screen actress, who over the course of the film sing, frolic and tap-dance their way into love. At first, it’s a joy to watch, even for those resistant to showtunes. But La La Land’s glitter does not mean its heart is gold. For when all is said and done, it’s clear that Chazelle is channeling much the same spirit of his previous film. What is the cost of art? And in order to achieve greatness, must you pay full price?

12. Looper (2012)

After getting repeatedly thrown under the bus by fans, peers and executives at the Disney corporation, it’s easy to forget that before Star Wars, Rian Johnson had already made the best sci-fi movie of the decade. Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Bruce Willis star as two versions of the same person–the former, a hitman in 2044 and the latter, a man from 2074 sent back in time to be killed by his younger self. Like all time travel stories, Looper is not without its plot holes and paradoxes. But these nitpicks feel insignificant in the scope of Johnson’s wickedly inventive script. Consider this scene, which features a character getting permanently disfigured in 2044 but shows the results of the disfigurement on his future self. The display of violence is simultaneously grotesque and bloodless, and it’s one of Johnson’s many “how did he come up with this?” moments. So much to love here–JoGo’s makeup, Emily Blunt’s shotgun skills, Pierce Gagnon’s scary yet loveable superkid and an ending that should already be a consistent staple in our zeitgeist. Take me back, anytime.

13. Her (2013)

Toy Story 4, Avengers: Endgame and Her–those are the three times this decade I cried at the movies. Don’t get me wrong, I cry a lot. It’s just usually in the privacy of my own home with Prince’s “Sometimes It Snows in April” playing in the background. To be frank, I can’t put my finger on exactly what got the waterworks flowing. But I imagine that in December of 2013, right on the heels of high school graduation and at the precipice of young adulthood, the nature of love was occasionally on the mind. Now, I’m sure you could interpret the beautifully realized sci-fi drama about a man in a relationship with his computer as a cautionary tale, and that director Spike Jonze sees the construct of love as an illusion, made more opaque by our unhealthy relationship with technology. And that vision of a dystopian future is certainly enough for a good weep. But I don’t recall my reaction, nor the end of the film, being so cynical. When Joaquin Phoenix’s mustachioed dweeb gets dumped by his AI girlfriend, his despair is not on account of his lost love being fake. Rather, he recognizes that love as too real to bear. Dammit Alexa, stop playing Prince!

14. Marriage Story (2019)

Remember Beasts of No Nation? It was the first original feature film to be distributed by Netflix, all the way back in October of 2015. It was directed by Cary Joji Fukunaga, fresh off his run on True Detective, and starred Idris Elba, fresh off his hit album “Murdah Loves John.” The movie got some good critical buzz and did pretty well on the festival circuit, but there were hopes an Oscar campaign that never seemed to materialize. Beasts of No Nation was swiftly followed by Netflix’s The Ridiculous 6, a western starring Adam Sandler, Terry Crews, Jorge Garcia, Taylor Lautner, Rob Schneider and Luke Wilson. Funny what can happen in half a decade. In a relatively short period of time, Netflix went from a DVD mailing service to the most prolific producer of narrative entertainment in the world. And they did it the right way–by investing in talent and trusting the audience to follow. See: Noah Baumbach, a darling of the indie scene but a director whose most high-profile work was on Madagascar 3: Europe’s Most Wanted. Netflix gave him $18 million, a cast of dynamic actors, the musical talents of Randy Newman, a relentless promotional campaign and the freedom to tell the most essential story of his career. Come February, I expect both Netflix and Baumbach to be rewarded handsomely.

15. Django Unchained (2012)

Probably the best western of the decade, definitely the best western of the decade featuring the music of Rick Ross. Django Unchained sees Quentin Tarantino in familiar territory–revising history, turning perpetrators into victims and turning victims into heroes. A battered slave takes bloody revenge on his masters and rides off on horseback with his love; you can just imagine young Quentin dreaming up this premise at the video store and feeling so damn proud. I still contend that Inglorious Basterds and Once Upon a Time…in Hollywood are better historical fantasies, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t equally swept away by this one. Plus, Christoph Waltz, Kerry Washington, Sam Jackson and Leo DiCaprio may be the best supporting cast in any QT movie.

16. American Hustle (2013)

If you’ve ever been bamboozled into attending karaoke night at the bar, you’ll notice that certain songs are chosen over and over again–Bonnie Tyler’s “Total Eclipse of the Heart,” the Backstreet Boys’ “I Want It That Way,” Neil Diamond’s “Sweet Caroline.” Why? Because a drunk guy can’t ruin these songs no matter how hard he tries. The best karaoke songs are the bad ones. This is the only reason I can possibly conceive of for why people didn’t like American Hustle. It’s Karaoke Goodfellas. They must’ve thought, if you’re going to rip off a movie, if better not be one of the greatest movies ever made. But here’s the thing, some songs are so catchy that I’ll tap my feet, no matter who’s singing them. And some movies are so damn entertaining that I’ll eat them up with a silver spoon, no matter who’s behind the camera. I don’t see ripping off Goodfellas as an insult, I see it as an asset. That’s why cable re-runs of American Hustle will always have my undying attention. And let’s be honest, as far as drunk guys at the bar go, you could do a lot worse than David O. Russell.

17. Drive (2011)

There are few more hateable filmmakers, nay, few more hateable human beings than Nicolas Winding Refn. The cult auteur once said in an interview to the Guardian, “I’m glamour. I’m vulgarity. I’m scandal. I’m gossip. I’m the future. I’m the counter culture. I’m commercial reality. I’m artistic singularity.” I’m not sure I know anyone who would utter any of those sentences. Refn uttered all eight of them, in succession, and he wasn’t joking. Although I haven’t indulged in most of his filmography, I’ve seen enough of Only God Forgives and read enough reviews of Too Old to Die Young to know his particular brand of glossy, nihilistic color porn isn’t my jam. But, for some reason, Drive works for me. Maybe it’s the cast (Gosling, Mulligan, Cranston, Brooks and Isaac, all suburb), maybe it’s the screenplay (which Refn, surprisingly, did not write) or maybe it was my unfamiliarity with the Refn-verse that tricked me into thinking his aesthetic was novel. Whatever the reasons, this stylishly entertaining LA crime film will live on in my head like an exciting one-night stand. I’ll cherish the time we spent together, but hope to never experience NWR again.

18. Inside Out (2015)

If you spend any time with parents of young children, you’ll identify a potentially harmful pattern of behavior. The five-year-old will start crying because he wants a cake pop, the three-year-old, already overtired, will join in, the one-year-old’s tears will somehow drown both of them out and the parents, who began the parenting process with the purest of intentions, will reach their breaking point. So, they turn on Peppa Pig. From what I gather, this cheat code has a 100% success rate. Having a Netflix account is like having a mute button for your infant. And as dangerous as the prospect may sound on paper, most worn out parents are willing to make the tradeoff. To a certain extent, television and film has always had a numbing quality on children. But with today’s unprecedented access to content comes an unprecedented threat. That’s why Inside Out stands alone as the decade’s finest children’s film. Set in the mind of an 11-year-old girl, Pete Docter’s animated masterpiece does not aim to paralyze its audience’s emotional state. Rather, it encourages children to embrace their feelings, and argues for joy, sadness, fear, anger and disgust as complimentary and essential human traits.

19. Weiner (2016)

There’s a moment in the 2016 documentary about Anthony Weiner’s failed mayoral campaign when co-director Josh Kriegman asks his subject, “Why did you let me film this?” It’s one of the most honest moments I’ve ever seen in a documentary, an apparent admission of guilt by Kriegman for being privy to the shit show. And it’s the very feeling you can’t shake while watching the film. Why do I have access to this footage? And why can’t I look away? Never, in the history of documentary filmmaking, has it been less fun to be a fly on the wall, and perhaps, never has it been more fascinating. The sexting, the outburst on MSNBC, the flipping of the bird to the media–it feels like every decision Weiner makes is scientifically engineered to make his life, and that of his wife Huma Abedin, a living hell. Yet, we’re trapped in Weiner’s war room for all of it, as the charismatic narcissist explains his actions away. Until that intimate moment with Kriegman, on the heels of an embarrassing primary defeat, when all he can muster up is a confused grimace. Speaking of Abedin, you’ll remember that in August of 2016, Weiner announced his separation from his wife who, at the time, was vice chairwoman of the Hillary Clinton presidential campaign. Eleven days before the election and five months after the release of the doc, the FBI reopened its investigation into Hillary Clinton’s private email server after finding more emails on the laptop of, you guessed it, Anthony Weiner. Many believe the “October surprise” led to Donald Trump’s narrow victory in 2016, which lends some extra-filmic irony to an already fascinating political tale. This fateful decade, America witnessed not one, but two promising political campaigns torpedoed by Anthony Weiner’s horniness. Not quite our modern-day Macbeth, but pretty damn close.

20. Silence (2016)

You know, it’s about 45 minutes too long and its characters have weird accents and it features a stiff lead performance from Andrew Garfield. But Silence is the greatest movie about the Christian faith ever made, and that’s got to count for something.

21. 12 Years a Slave (2013) | 22. Spotlight (2015) | 23. Birdman (2014) | 24. Argo (2012)

Four Best Picture winners. None of them are the best movie of their respective year, but all of them are somehow underrated for that very reason. Such is the nature of the Academy Awards in this decade, and every decade that came before it. The Oscars exist as an arbitrary cannon to rail against. Every winter, we comprise a list of ten to fifteen “prestigious” films and subject them to heated critical discourse, a highly politicized campaign process and, worst of all, groupthink, until one subjective work of art is objectively deemed the best of the year. So naturally, we spend far more time listing the reasons why a movie shouldn’t win Best Picture and categorically ignore the reasons why it should–just as the Lumiére Brothers intended. Here’s the truth: Argo is a propulsive historical thriller with a dynamite supporting cast and no fat on the bone. Birdman is an exquisitely-shot, masterfully-directed and uproariously-acted melodrama that captures the feel of a Broadway play better than any movie based on a Broadway play. Spotlight is a subdued (that one Ruffalo monologue, excluded) journalism movie that serves as both a rich historical document and a love letter to process. And 12 Years a Slave, well, I guess everyone always loved 12 Years a Slave.

25. Sicario (2015)

As reflected by this list, it’s hard to find a director with a higher batting average this decade than Denis Villeneuve. And the hit rate only becomes more impressive when you consider the types of movies the French-Canadian auteur has tackled–i.e. ambitious, high concept, large in budget and even larger in scope. He isn’t playing it safe with heist movies and rom-coms, he’s making movies with a high probability of failure. But Villeneuve hasn’t failed, not yet anyway. And that’s about as miraculous as a guy earning a .400 on-base percentage without taking a single walk. Sicario, I suppose, is one of Villeneuve more traditional films–in that it doesn’t feature giant spiders, aliens communicating with ink blots or Jared Leto rocking creepy contact lenses–but that’s not to say it lacks ambition. In fact, its script (written by Taylor Sheridan) may have more to say about the U.S. military complex, the war on drugs and the crisis at the border than any thriller of its kind. Add to that some brilliantly staged set pieces and Roger Deakins’s camera work, and you’ve got the crowned jewel of a thoroughly impressive filmography.

26. Lady Bird (2017)

There are not many great mother-daughter movies. I suppose you could run down a laundry list of the reasons why, but there’s only one, really: the vast majority of filmmakers have never been mothers or daughters. That deficiency is just beginning to change, and we can debate the rate and magnitude of that change until we’ve buried the Earth in think pieces. But I think most film lovers can agree there was a real hunger for a movie like Lady Bird. The incomparable Greta Gerwig writes and directs this slice of life story about a soon-to-be high school graduate growing up in Sacramento, and she does so with a level of specificity that can only come from personal experience. I don’t know which details are autobiographical, but when I watch the bonds between these characters unfold–from the way Lady Bird’s father (Tracy Letts) deals with depression, to the way her mother (Laurie Metcalf, snubbed of an Oscar) gives her fashion advice, to the way her friend (Lucas Hedge) struggles with his sexuality–I can’t fathom any of the film being fictionalized. That’s the sign of a great filmmaker, and a sign that Greta Gerwig will be a hard name to ignore.

27. Zero Dark Thirty (2012)

Look, does Zero Dark Thirty make an argument for torture as an effective form of interrogation? Certainly. Is this argument contradicted by a 2014 investigation by the Senate Intelligence Committee? It appears so; in fact, they just made a movie about it. Do these historical inaccuracies warrant an extra-level of scrutiny and criticism? Probably. Do they make the film immoral? I don’t know, I’ll let you decide. What I will say, at the risk of sounding ill-informed and obtuse, is that Katheryn Bigelow knows how to make a war movie better than just about anyone. In the words of Amy Poehler at the 2013 Golden Globe Awards, “I haven’t been really following the controversy over Zero Dark Thirty, but when it comes to torture, I trust the lady who spent three years married to James Cameron.”

28. Skyfall (2012)

The best franchise film of the decade (flame-throwing guitars, excluded) and possibly the best Bond film of all time, Skyfall goes where the franchise had not gone before and digs deep into the backstory of Agent 007. After The Dark Knight hit theaters in 2008, “dark and gritty” reboots became quite fashionable in Hollywood, with many studios taking the wrong lessons from Christopher Nolan’s success. They assumed that updating old source material for a modern audience involved nothing more than dull lightning, inert action and daddy issues. Thankfully, Sam Mendes and his creative team thought better, by grounding their storytelling in character and preserving the signature charm of the franchise, even as it skewed toward realism. I mean, sure, Skyfall is beautifully shot (s/o Roger Deakins), but it also features Javier Bardem as a toothless, ambiguously gay cyberterrorist and ends with Daniel Craig and Judi Dench playing Home Alone at Bond’s childhood mansion. Give me that silliness over Batman v Superman every day of week.

29. Frances Ha (2012)

Noah Baumbach writes from his life. I suppose all writers, and in a way, all people with pen and paper do. But Baumbach is particularly skilled at articulating his internal monologue. And that may be his singular gift: the ability to be autobiographical and universal, simultaneously. There are times during The Squid and the Whale and The Meyerowitz Stories and Kicking and Screaming when a character will say something that seems to be pulled straight from my brain. The same is true of Frances Ha, except that material seems to be pulled straight from my nightmares. Returning to your alma mater several years after graduation to work as an RA, maxing out a credit card to a spend a weekend in Paris, only to sleep away the first day and do nothing of note with the second, eking out a living as a dancer while rooming with two hipsters in Lower Manhattan. I’m sorry, Slender Man has nothing on this movie.

30. Inception (2010)

Take Ellen Page out of this movie and Inception may earn a spot in the top ten. It’s just that good. But never has a character screamed “studio notes” more than Ariadne. This is nothing against Page per say, who did great work that same year in James Gunn’s Super. This is an indictment of a poorly conceived character whose sole narrative purpose is to explain the logic of the film, so the audience doesn’t get confused. This screenwriting blemish is especially unfortunate, since Christopher Nolan doesn’t do much else to hold the viewer’s hand. And in an era of high exposition and low-IQ sci-fi, that’s incredibly refreshing. Just think, the climax of this movie features a dream within a dream within a dream within a dream, and it’s not only thrilling, it’s coherent. Inception is one of the few Nolan films this decade that isn’t crushed by the weight of its own ambition. If only he had known.

31. Boyhood (2014)

Making a movie is hard. Sometimes you go over-budget. Sometimes you break continuity. Sometimes you over-write a scene. Sometimes you under-write it. Sometimes you forget to shoot coverage. Sometimes your movie is too long. Sometimes you mess up the sound. Hell, sometimes you cast your lead at age six and realize he doesn’t have the chops to carry a movie at age 16. Boyhood is full of these mistakes (I’ll let you sort out which ones). But that’s life. And in life as in film, mistakes can make the whole thing worthwhile. Perhaps I’m giving Richard Linklater too much credit for the idea–i.e. shooting the coming-of-age film with the same actors over 14 years–but there is a tangible quality to the filmmaking style that elevates the movie beyond its gimmick. Linklater clearly has a deep affection for these characters and this material, the type of affection you can only develop over the course of a decade. And as a viewer, you can’t help but buy in–through the various digressions, through the meandering moments and, yes, through the many mistakes. Because who among us hasn’t made the same ones?

32. A Quiet Place (2018)

Apologies to the thrill seekers and the gore lovers, the emotionally dead and the mentally disturbed. Apologies to The Conjuring fanboys and the You’re Next faithful, The Babadook hive The Witch coven. And very special apologies to Ari Aster. I don’t do well with horror movies, and with this selection, I’m telling on myself. A Quiet Place is the exact brand of child-safe, Paramount-approved, PG-13 horror that appeals to my tastes and leaves my stomach unbothered. But even the most hard-core horror fans couldn’t possibly resist. Director John Krasinski and his wife Emily Blunt star as parents of three, living in a post-apocalyptic world invaded by blind alien monsters. The family is forced to live in total silence, lest they attract the attention of their hunters. The set pieces are something to behold, which bodes very well for Krasinski’s future behind the camera. But what elevates A Quiet Place is its script–which argues that life is always worth preserving, that your greatest weaknesses can be your greatest strengths and that the job of a parent doesn’t end when the world does.

33. Good Time (2017)

Allow me to be as precise, thoughtful and eloquent as I can: this movie fucking rules. I suspect this is the very reaction directors Josh and Benny Safdie hoped I’d have to their frenetic New York City thriller. Good Time follows the criminal hijinks of two brothers (the younger, played by the aforementioned Benny Safdie and the older, played by an unrecognizable Robert Pattinson) after their attempt at a bank robbery goes awry. There are no heroes in this movie, only a group of incompetent, morally bankrupt people whose unbroken streak of bad decision-making leads to occasionally comical, but ultimately tragic ends. Which means, despite all your rooting, nothing good ever happens, just a sequence of train wrecks, escalating in magnitude and carnage. But I must admit, I enjoyed every gritty, drug-infused, anxiety-inducing moment of it. Imagine if Dog Day Afternoon and Heat had a baby and then abandoned it. That’s Good Time.

34. The Master (2012)

It’s hard to think of an artist–aside from the exception that proves all rules, Kanye West–who had a more fascinating decade than Paul Thomas Anderson. That’s not to say PTA’s last three films are his best, that could not be further from the truth. But they all represent an artistic evolution we don’t often see twenty-five years into a filmmaker’s career. The Master is one of Anderson’s richest texts, loosely based on the Church of Scientology and featuring a World War II veteran named Freddie Quell (Joaquin Phoenix) and a charismatic cult leader named Lancaster Dodd (Philip Seymour Hoffman). I confess, I’m not the type of person apt to join an upstart religion, but if I were, it would have to be led by someone like Lancaster Dodd. There’s a strange vulnerability to his bullshit façade–he’s not afraid to look emotional, get angry, tell you what he’s thinking. Of course, he’s making up the rules as he goes along, but he himself feels like a real person. And that’s a testament to Hoffman, who we lost this decade long before his time. He had at least a dozen of these performances left in him. Boy, I’d give anything to see just one of them.

35. Nightcrawler (2014)

Imagine Taxi Driver, but if Travis Bickle was self-aware. That’s the haunting power of Nightcrawler. Like Scorsese’s 70s masterpiece, much of Nightcrawler is spent with our antihero (Jake Gyllenhaal) roaming the luminous nighttime streets of his city (LA rather than NY), like a viper stalking its prey. Some shots are so obviously inspired by Taxi Driver, you’d swear Dan Gilroy watched nothing else in film school. But Robert De Niro’s sociopath didn’t know he was such a bad guy. In fact, most of his violent acts are sincere attempts at chivalry. Gyllenhaall’s Louis Bloom, with his sleeked back haircut, piercing eyes and lethal smile, could not possibly plead such ignorance, nor would he want to. Look no further than this scene, a truly disturbing me-too moment that Gyllenhaall plays with a cold remove and a perverse charm all his own. No other actor would make quite the same choices, and that’s what elevates Nightcrawler from a solid Los Angeles crime movie to a terrifying dissertation on the predatory nature of the American man.

36. A Star is Born (2018)

For the third remake of a film from 1937, Bradley Cooper’s A Star is Born carries a shocking amount of urgency. Perhaps that’s a testament to the timelessness of its story which, interestingly, would seem to imply that our understanding of stardom hasn’t changed much since then. But I have to give more credit to Cooper, whose direction imbues the story with new life, and Lady Gaga, who proves that underneath the meat dress, she was always meant to be a movie star. There’s a bigness to A Star is Born–between the music, the camera work, the raw charisma on display. And that’s something we just don’t see in cinemas anymore, at least outside of Thanos-related clusterfucks. It’s spectacle. It’s wonder. It’s the magic of movies.

37. Star Wars: The Last Jedi (2017)

Remember 1999? Great movie year. There was no year this decade even half as good. Of course, the reasons for this drop off in quality are varied and complex, but let’s take a shot at one of them. What do Fight Club, The Sixth Sense, The Matrix and The Blair Witch Project have in common? They all feature some sort of genre subversion, marketing bait and switch or major third act plot twist. Audiences left the theater in a state of surprise, and that was a good thing. If the reaction to Rian Johnson’s Star Wars installment is any indication, those days are long gone. When Last Jedi hit theaters, rabid fan boys (and girls–albeit, not many) did not see the movie for what it was– i.e. an attempt to challenge preconceived notions, deconstruct the previous films and expand the Star Wars mythos. Instead, they saw it as a betrayal. How dare you make Rey’s parents irrelevant! How dare you give Leia the power to fly! How dare you kill the lizard guy! How dare you develop Luke’s character in any meaningful way! It’s a shame. Because if these possessive nerds were able to put their action figures away and cede ownership of their beloved franchise to the professionals, they’d see Episode 8as a bold endeavor of blockbuster filmmaking and one of the finest Star Wars movies to date.

38. Hell or High Water (2016)

When it comes down to it, I don’t think there’s a more important person in my life than my brother. That doesn’t make him my favorite person–that distinction belongs to either Margot Robbie, Jennifer Lawrence, Mila Kunis, Minka Kelly, Jessica Alba or, I suppose, Larry David. But my relationship to Andre is certainly the one I spend the most time thinking about. In Hell or High Water, screenwriter Taylor Sheridan ponders the relationship of his two leads (played by Chris Pine and Ben Foster) in much the same way, with an astoundingly entertaining neo-western heist movie as a backdrop. And, of course, there’s Jeff Bridges, doing his usual Jeff Bridges thing like he’s never done it before. For all of the pathos with Pine and Foster, I think it’s the quasi-brotherhood of Bridges and his partner (Gil Birmingham) that punches my gut the hardest. As the film seems to suggest, we can’t choose our brothers, but our brothers can choose us.

39. Ex Machina (2015)

I’ve allotted myself approximately 150 words for this blurb, and there are a multiplicity of things I could do with it. I could talk about director Alex Garland, who has emerged as one of the most distinct, if at times overambitious, sci-fi storytellers working today. I could talk about Alicia Vikander who, underneath a heavy layer of CGI, made her movie stardom instantly known. I could talk about Domhnall Gleeson, who somehow has the world’s most impressive IMBd page without a single likeable character on it. I could talk about the larger themes or the terrifying ending or the lovely production design or the Academy Award-winning special effects or just about any aspect of this near-flawless film. But I won’t. Instead, I’ll direct your attention to this scene, because it made me laugh harder than any other scene this decade.

40. Dunkirk (2017)

Upon its release, Dunkirk took a lot of flak for putting style over substance, a critique not unfamiliar to director Christopher Nolan. And while I admit that the immersive World War II movie leaves something to be desired from its characters, I still contend that the decision was intentional. Dunkirk is an isolated story–no flashbacks, no shots of the enemy, text that conveys the passage of time and a propulsive Hans Zimmer score that underscores the ticking clock. This ain’t Apocalypse Now. This is a contained two-hour experience, meant to convey the sensation of being a fish in a barrel. The soldiers on Dunkirk beach knew just as much information about each other as we the audience knew about them. Because of course, when you’re taking fire from every direction, you’re not interested in origin stories. The lack of exposition is not evidence of Nolan’s indifference towards character, but rather an acknowledgement that war has the capacity to destroy character. These are two totally different things, and that’s what makes Dunkirk a totally different war movie.

41. Toy Story 3 (2010)

What if Woody, Buzz, Jesse and friends actually burned to a crisp in that incinerator? I confess, the thought briefly crossed my mind in 2010. In fact, a tiny part of me still believes the rest of the movie is a dream fantasy. But then I wiped away the tears and remembered I was watching a kid’s movie. That’s the effect the Toy Story franchise can have on you: the writing is so smart and the characters are so well realized, you forget you’re watching something intended for the day care crowd. The truth is, any adult who thinks they’re too old for Toy Story 3, is really a child. And any man who claims not to have cried at the end of Toy Story 3 is not really a man. Neither of those camps will ever have a friend in me.

42. Paterson (2016)

Writing isn’t fun. I can personally attest, because I’m currently engaged in it. Therefore, there are two kinds of movies about writers–those that glorify (Dead Poet’s Society, Midnight in Paris, Almost Famous) and those that horrify (The Shining, Misery, Barton Fink). Films in the first category have the capacity to inspire artists to follow their muse, but fail to acknowledge certain inevitable truths like, say, writer’s block. Films in the second category are keenly aware that a writer’s life is a life of toil, but usually just end with somebody killing somebody. Neither model is sufficient. And that’s the great miracle of Paterson. In his quiet character study about a free verse poet, director Jim Jarmusch slavishly commits to portraying the repetition of human life, but not as a soul-crushing process of lather, rinse, repeat. Instead, he voices a sentiment that all writers instinctively know–that the best art exists in the margins, that the best ideas come on the tenth draft and that the truest moments of inspiration only happen once you’ve lived them again and again.

43. Prisoners (2013)

Let’s repeat some things we already know to be true: Denis Villeneuve is a master of the screen, especially when he tackles genre material. Roger Deakins is our best living cinematographer, no matter if he’s shooting the futuristic world of Blade Runner or the dingy bowling alley in The Big Lebowski. Hugh Jackman, Jake Gyllenhaal, Viola Davis and Paul Dano are all tremendous actors and have the ability to carry their own movies. And all these talented people joined forces on Prisoners, to create a magnificently tense crime film. But let’s be honest, I have no desire to watch this movie ever again. And perhaps that’s the point.

44. Sing Street (2016)

Disclosure: I may be overrating this movie because it features my favorite movie song of the decade. But if Sing Street was just a four-minute music video for Drive It Like You Stole It, I’m sure I could still justify its placement in the top 100. What a song, and frankly, what a movie. John Carney (Once, Begin Again) directs this vibrant musical about a high school garage band growing up in 1980s Dublin. There has been no shortage of 80s period pieces this decade, and many are far more competent than Sing Street at recreating the aesthetic, style and cultural milieu of the era. But this movie manages to recreate something rarely found in the other homages: a true sense of 80s filmmaking. The story is not particularly period-specific, but the film feels like it came out in 1986. The fact that it actually came out thirty year later is a testament to Carney, who never settles for the “member berries” brand of nostalgia and produces an authentically sentimental coming-of-age story as a result. To the bored Gen Xers looking to fill their Saturdays, consider spending it with this movie. It’ll make you smile.

45. The LEGO Movie (2014)

A kid’s movie starring a bunch of characters from other franchises, except they’re LEGOs. When we heard this pitch, we knew to what to expect: a corporately manufactured cash grab, more interested in selling Christmas toys then changing cinema. How uncool. But those sons of guns Phil Lord and Christopher Miller had bigger plans in mind: a hilarious, beautifully animated, genre-bending, anti-capitalist epic, with a touching message about the importance of creativity and free thought. Since then, the LEGO franchise has been a bit of a mixed bad. But I’ll chose to remember the early days, when everything was truly awesome.

46. Blue Ruin (2014)

In a decade partially defined by the rapid democratization of art, Blue Ruin is perhaps the best work to come out of Kickstarter (printable card games and fidget cubes, excluded). Directed by Jeremy Saulnier (Green Room) and set in rural Virginia (think about it: how many non-historical dramas/non-CIA movies are set in Virginia?), the film makes the most of its micro-budget with beautiful cinematography, a haunting sense of atmosphere, a nauseating yet often comical use of gore and a compellingly detached lead performance from Saulnier’s childhood friend Macon Blair, who’s character of Dwight is set on a path of revenge when his parents’ killer is released from prison. Revenge movies have never been in short supply. In fact, one could track the evolution of the genre as easily as the British monarchy­–there’s the Eastwood era followed by the Bronson era followed by the Gibson era followed by the Neeson era followed by the Reeves era, long may he reign. But by stripping Dwight of the usual self-righteous motivations and denying him any meaningful catharsis, Blue Ruin somehow manages to deliver a revenge story you’ve never seen before. By the end, both the audience and their hero are left to ponder what all the violence was for, because it sure as hell doesn’t look this bad in the movies.

47. The Hunt (2013)

No, not THAT movie. I’m talking about the Danish one with the guy from Doctor Strange. Chances are you haven’t indulged in this story about a schoolteacher wrongly accused of pedophilia, and chances are my pitch isn’t changing your mind. But please trust my recommendation and give The Hunt a shot–for a subtle commentary on mob mentality, for an ending that brilliantly illustrates the theme of the film and for Mads Mikkelsen, who delivers one of the most powerful performances of the decade.

48. John Wick (2014)

There’s no film on this list I’ve seen more times, yet there’s no film on this list I more strongly wish to seeagain. Against all odds, John Wick has become one of the defining franchises of the decade and thank god for that. The Bourne franchise was appropriate for its time, but by the early 2010s, its brand of close-up, incoherent action was becoming trite. Who knew that Keanu Reeves would be the savior to lead us out of the hand-held darkness? Here’s a thought: try filming a fight scene so the audience can see it. Woah.

49. The Act of Killing (2012)

Much praise has been heaped on this film–and its follow-up, The Look of Silence–for its retelling of the 1960s Indonesian Communist genocide and the footage of self-declared murders coming to terms with the atrocities they committed. Make no mistake, this is bone-chilling documentary filmmaking. But the one scene I can’t seem to shake comes earlier in the film. Anwar Congo, a gangster and government executioner, has been tasked by the documentarians to make a movie of his own, recreating the hundreds of killings he carried out in the 60s. In the scene, Congo is reviewing the footage of one of these recreations. “I never would have worn white pants,” he says to himself, seemingly out of artistic frustration. “I never wore white. I always wore dark colors. I look like I’m dressed for a picnic.” These do not sound like the words of a mass murder; these sound like the words of Stanley Kubrick. Congo and his colleagues’ attention to detail doesn’t stop at the costume design. Throughout the movie, they show an inherent understanding of plot structure, character motivation, choreography, cinematography and various other storytelling aspects that seem technical, but somehow are not. The Act of Killing proves that the language of film is perhaps our most universal and demonstrates how that language can be used for ultimate good or unspeakable evil.

50. The Martian (2015)

The two of us are getting coffee. Maybe we’re at Starbucks, but probably not. You’re sipping on a venti vanilla latte (or the non-Starbucks equivalent). I’m not, because I don’t drink coffee. Let me correct myself: I’m sitting there, awkwardly watching you slurp coffee. To fill the silence, I make a throw-away comment that strikes you as harebrained: Matt Damon is underrated. “How could that be?” you respond, quite calmly. “He’s freaking Jason Bourne. Who doesn’t love Jason Bourne?” I insist that, despite being one of the most famous men in America for the better part of two decades, we’ve forgotten how many good Matt Damon movies there. Still,you don’t seem convinced. So, I pull out my iPhone and head straight Damon’s IMDb page. I begin reading the obvious ones–Good Will Hunting, Rounders, The Talented Mr. Ripley, three Bournes. You don’t react. But then the list begins to grow–Ocean’s Eleven, Saving Private Ryan, True Grit, The Good Shepherd. You don’t admit it, but you forgot Damon was in those. I follow these up with some Soderbergh collaborations–The Informant!, Contagion, Behind the Candelabra. You’re now visibly sweating. All it took was The Departed to push you over the edge. You spit out your beverage, drop to your hands and knees and thank me for the sacred truth I just proselytized: Matt Damon is our greatest living movie star, and The Martian is his greatest showcase.

51. Parasite (2019)

Snowpiercer and Okja director Bong Joon-ho returns to his home nation of South Korea for a twisted thriller with big laughs and even bigger ideas. Don’t treat it like homework, it’s more like recess.

52. Don Jon (2013)

Joseph Gordon-Levitt’s tale of love, narcissism and hardcore pornography captures the Jersey Shore-ness of the early 2010s better than any MTV reality show ever could. Plus, an all-time Scarlett Johansson performance as the girl from the club you wish you never called back.

53. Frank (2014)

We don’t talk about it nearly enough, but Michael Fassbender once did an entire movie while wearing a papier mâché head and it was one of the best performances of the decade. I know, weird.

54. Exit Through the Gift Shop (2010)

I know that Banksy has crossed the threshold from “legitimately interesting” to “only interesting if you live in SoHo.” But back in 2010, the graffittier’s quasi-documentary about fellow street artist Mr. Brainwash was a thrilling conversation piece.

55. Arrival (2016)

Denis Villeneuve’s most visually immersive flick, Arrival is a pretty flawless sci-fi tale about the power of communication. Flawless, of course, if you ignore Jeremey Renner’s delivery of the line “Do you wanna make a baby?” He deserves all the Razzies for that one.

56. Top Five (2014)

Perhaps the most underrated movie of the decade, Top Five was poorly marketed but features writer/director/star Chris Rock channeling Woody Allen to great comedic success.

57. The Irishman (2019)

Martin Scorsese returns to the genre he mastered in 1990 with an older, much more pensive set of eyes. If Goodfellas isn’t your jam, I’m not sure The Irishman will cut straight to your core. But true Scorsese loyalists understand that it’s the mob movie to end all mob movies. Also…JOE PESCI!!!

58. Minding the Gap (2018)

Essentially a collection of director Bing Liu’s home videos, Minding the Gap follows the exploits of three skateboarders growing up in Rockford, Illinois, and offers one of the most intimate portraits of urban life ever seen in nonfiction film.

59. Me and Earl and the Dying Girl (2015)

Easily the best film in the “pretty teenage girl gets sick” subgenre, Me and Earl and the Dying Girl sidesteps the usual YA bullshit and delivers a heartfelt drama with a full-force gut punch.

60. Burning (2018)

Exquisitely shot and featuring a quietly sinister performance from The Walking Dead’s Steven Yeun, this South Korean slow burn (sorry) swallows you alive with its central mystery and spits you out with its haunting finale.

61. Mandy (2018)

This movie defies description, so I won’t describe it. Instead, I’ll ask you to trust that it was one of the most surreal viewing experiences of my life and urge you to partake in that experience for yourself. And, for good measure, here’s a podcast about it.

62. The Big Sick (2017)

The script is fun and the story has such a terrific premise, but The Big Sick would not be half as memorable if not for Holly Hunter and Ray Romano, who play the most authentic married couple you’ll ever see on screen.

63. First Reformed (2018)

Creativity does its best work under captivity. And I’m sure that’s what Paul Schrader realized when he made First Reformed with a tiny cast, a limited depth of field, a 4:3 aspect ratio and no musical score whatsoever. What a haunting movie.

64. The Big Short (2015)

More economics lecture than narrative and more political statement than character study, The Big Short excels purely on the snappiness of its script and the raw charisma of its four leads. Now we wait with bated breath for Adam McKay to make an actual movie.

65. Mission: Impossible – Fallout (2018)

Tom Cruise learned how to pilot a helicopter for this movie. Tom Cruise jumped out of an airplane over 100 times for this movie. Tom Cruise broke his ankle leaping between rooftops for this movie. Tom Cruise spent multiple days on set with Henry Cavill for this movie. That, my friends, is a mission more than accomplished.

66. Coco (2017)

Let’s, for a moment, ignore how disgusting overrated the song “Remember Me” is, and acknowledge that Coco is a smart, mature and emotionally stirring rumination on death from the greatest animated film studio of all time.

67. The Ballad of Buster Scruggs (2018)

A collection of six short stories set in the American west, Buster Scruggs is not the Coen brothers’ best work this decade, but it’s certainly their most interesting. Special recognition goes to the segments starring Liam Neeson and Tom Waits.

68. Interstellar (2014)

Thirty years from now, all you Interstellar haters will feel such a profound sense of shame for how unfairly you treated this movie. I, on the other hand, can sleep soundly, knowing I’m on the right side of history.

69. Short Term 12 (2013)

You ever think about The Godfather and wonder how Francis Ford Coppola managed to cast four of the greatest actors of all time, before they were famous? I ask the same question about Brie Larson, Rami Malek and LaKeith Stanfield in Short Term 12.

70. Logan (2017)

Despite a deep bench of challengers, James Mangold managed to make the best superhero movie of the decade by, wouldn’t you know it, not making a superhero movie. Channeling Shane and Unforgiven, Logan is a damn good noir western. The intellectual property is just a bonus.

71. Roma (2018)

I never had the desire to spend five minutes staring at Alfonso Cuarón’s childhood floor tiles. But often, cinema ignores what you want and gives you what you need. We all desperately need a movie like Roma.

72. Dawn of the Planet of the Apes (2014)

Saying Andy Serkis should’ve earned an Oscar nomination for this movie is such a film nerd cliché, it now borders on trolling. But that doesn’t make it any less true.

73. Gravity (2013)

Taken off the big screen and put on a television, Gravity has little to no re-watch value. But your first viewing still matters, and I can’t deny that my first viewing of Gravity was a spectacle and a thrill ride.

74. Beasts of the Southern Wild (2012)

Is it absurd that six-year-old Quvenzhané Wallis earned an Oscar nomination for this movie? No. What’s absurd is that she didn’t win. Long live Hushpuppy!

75. Nebraska (2013)

Before he made Honey, I Shrunk Matt Damon, Alexander Payne was on a pretty remarkable hot streak. Nebraska, the quiet black-and-white dramedy starring Bruce Dern, remains one of the director’s best.

76. Phantom Thread (2017)

The production design is all well and good, but the greatest achievement of Paul Thomas Anderson’s illustrious career is convincing Daniel Day-Lewis to play a character named Reynolds Woodcock.

77. Green Room (2016)

Another nasty, visceral thriller from Jeremy Saulnier, featuring an awesome lead performance by the late Anton Yelchin and a phenomenal heel turn by Patrick Stewart. Turns out Nazis are kind of jerks.

78. Searching for Sugar Man (2012)

Rodriguez, a failed 70s folk singer, becomes a massive star in South Africa but goes missing, presumably without knowledge of his success. So, documentarian Malik Bendjelloul sets out to find him. If you’re not sold on this premise, you don’t love movies.

79. The Wolf of Wall Street (2013)

The Wolf of Wall Street is a movie about men behaving badly that is beloved by men who behave badly. Call it the Fight Club problem. But it’s not Martin Scorsese’s fault that his uproariously funny comedy of excess spoke to the very people he was lampooning. You’d have to be high on Quaalaudes to think that.

80. The Favourite (2018)

Eighteenth century costume dramas are not my bag. Nor, generally, are the films of Yorgos Lanthimos. But put them together, and now we’re getting somewhere. We also mustn’t forget that The Favourite gave us Olivia Colman’s Oscar acceptance speech, up there with the Gettysburg Address.

81. Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)

Seven installments in, Sony finally made a Spider-Man movie that looked like a comic book. And as a consequence, they changed animated filmmaking forever.

82. Mississippi Grind (2015)

The Gambler walked so Rounders could run. Rounders ran so Mississippi Grind could fly. No film has ever captured the despair, isolation and perverse thrill of a degenerate gambler so effectively.

83. Don’t Breathe (2016)

In the decade’s second best “be quiet or die” horror movie, three punkish house robbers break into a blind veteran’s house and quickly see the tables turned on them. Sort of like Panic Room, if Jodie Foster was fond of turkey basters.

84. In a World… (2013)

Lake Bell, the forgotten female auteur of our time, writes, directs and stars in this charming comedy about voice over actors. Where have you gone, Lake? Where have you gone?

85. The Ides of March (2011)

Probably the last time we’ll talk glowingly about “George Clooney, the director,” The Ides of March is a solid political thriller with several hall of fame character actors in its orbit.

86. Calvary (2014)

While hearing confessional, a priest (Brendan Gleeson, giving one of the performances of the decade) receives a death threat from one of his parishioners. The man plans to carry out the murder next Sunday, as retribution for sexual abuse committed in his childhood by another priest. Gleeson’s character knows the man’s identity. We, the audience, do not. It’s that tension that makes Calvary so unforgettable.

87. The Fighter (2010)

Another brother movie directed by David O. Russell? I guess I just have a type. Of course, The Fighter is nothing without an Oscar winning performance by Christian Bale. But lucky for us, that’s all it took.

88. Creed (2015)

Ryan Coogler breathes new life into a franchise that had been comatose since 1982. I’m not one for holding grudges, but I’ll never forgive the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Science for cheating Sylvester Stallone out of his Oscar.

89. Blade Runner 2049 (2017)

Despite inheriting its troubles with pacing, Blade Runner 2049 manages to improve on the original cult classic in every conceivable way. And of course, Villeneuve and Deakins. What else do you want me to say?

90. The Lighthouse (2019)

Don’t you know it’s bad luck to kill a seabird? Robert Pattinson and Willem Dafoe star as two lighthouse keepers in this isolated David Lynchian fever dream from the director of The Witch, Robert Eggers.

91. Locke (2014)

Tom Hardy. In a car. Alone. For an hour and a half. This is what cinema was invented for.

92. Edge of Tomorrow (2014)

Not since The Shawshank Redemption has a movie’s box office returns been so torpedoed by a title. No, I will not call it Live Die Repeat. And no, that doesn’t sound any better.

93. The Invitation (2015)

Aside from Get Out, no movie has articulated my totally rational fear of dinner parties quite like The Invitation. Stream it now on Netflix, but be prepared to never speak to your friends again.

94. Steve Jobs (2015)

You may feel guilty, but I just consider it a pleasure. Aaron Sorkin walks and talks his way through the psyche of yet another complicated man, and I just couldn’t get enough.

95. Contagion (2011)

It’s been a complicated decade for Steven Soderbergh, who directed three seasons of television, shot two feature length films on an iPhone, tried and failed to reinvent the Hollywood financing model, retired from filmmaking, unretired from filmmaking and watched far too many episodes of Below Deck. Yet somehow, only one of his movies made the top 100. A word of advice Steven: try less.

96. Kick-Ass (2010)

The superhero genre meets Tarantino in this bloody riot from Matthew Vaughn. Disclaimer: I was fourteen years old when this movie came out.

97. Bone Tomahawk (2015)

This B-movie from divisive filmmaker S. Craig Zahler ends up devolving into a gross-out horror show. But the snazzy dialogue on the way to the destination somehow makes the journey worthwhile.

98. A Ghost Story (2017)

Casey Affleck, covered by a bedsheet for most of the film, stars as a ghost desperate to reconnect with his wife, only to find that their marriage was dead long before he was. Not exactly a Patrick Swayze romance.

99. Captain Phillips (2013)

Paul Greengrass executes another claustrophobic thriller, made special by the debut performance of Barkhad Abdi. Plus, for a minute there, I actually forgot I was watching Tom Hanks.

100. Fast Five (2011)

Because, you know, it’s about family.