Sorry that the frequency of these lists has slowed substantially, the quarantine is definitely having an affect on my ability to be productive. I still promise to get this list out, I may just need to mix some other creative ventures in between to keep me fresh.

Part 1. Honorable Mentions 101-150 (in alphabetical order)
Part 2. 100 – 91
Part 3. 90 – 81
Part 4. 80 – 71
Part 5. 70 – 61
Part 6. 60 – 51 (below)
Part 7. 50 – 41
Part 8. 40 – 31 (coming soon)
Part 9. 30 – 21 (coming soon)
Part 10. 20 – 11 (coming soon)
Part 11. 10 – 1 (coming soon)

60. Weekend (dir. Andrew Haigh, 2011)

Andrew Haigh’s exploration of the interconnectivity of sex, intimacy, and love is the driving force behind one of the best queer films of the decade. The film begins with Russell (Tom Cullen) heading to a gay club in search of meaningless sex and he finds Glen (Chris New). While the two of them end up meaning much more to each other than they could have imagined, Weekend doesn’t rely on the romance movie cliché of love at first sight. Instead the meaning of sex slowly evolves in a more organic manner.

59. Stories We Tell (dir. Sarah Polley, 2012)

An entirely unique documentary, Sarah Polley’s Stories We Tell starts with a conventional premise, exploring the power of family storytelling, but while interviewing her own family, Polley stumbles onto a long-held secret. This revelation elevates what would have already been a personal exploration into a mesmerizing identity crisis. The talking head documentary type may have largely fallen out of vogue in most critic stories, but Stories We Tell proves that with a strong enough premise even old ways of telling a story can feel new.

58. Sunset Song (dir. Terence Davies, 2016)

A favorite discovery of mine this decade was English director Terence Davies. All three films he directed in the decade, The Deep Blue Sea in 2012 and A Quiet Passion in 2017 being his other two, were strong contenders for the list. Sunset Song was my personal favorite of the three because I think it captures what he does best. Davies is able to capture womanhood in a way very few male writers and directors can. The film is a gorgeously shot period piece about the strength of a young woman from time where she was not allowed to possess any. Agyness Deyn’s portrayal of Chris is heartbreaking as he suffers the cruel men in her life. With no real power, all she can do is soldier on and live the best life that she is able.

57. The Tree of Life (dir. Terrence Mallick, 2011)

Ever since his 1973 classic Badlands, Mallick’s films became increasingly ethereal, more concerned with mood than plot. After The Tree of Life won the Palme d’Or this mood forward style became a dominant trend in the US art house scene resulting in many subpar copycats (including a few by Mallick himself). And while the impact The Tree of Life had on cinema may not be exclusively positive, there is no denying that it is a masterfully crafted film. Mallick’s shoot everything and find the film in the cutting room approach mixed perfectly with the decades best cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki capturing beautiful imagery for Mallick’s poetry and Alexandre Desplat’s score to mesh with.

56. Certain Women (dir. Wim Wenders, 2011)

Kelly Reichardt very well may be my favorite active director, and the quarantine causing me to miss her new film First Cow was personally frustrating. While some may consider her films to be slow, the time that she gives her characters to breathe create the depth that makes them endearing.  Even in the vignette styled Certain Women, each character feels fully formed. All four actresses Laura Dern, Michelle Williams, Kristen Stewart, and Lily Gladstone capture women in completely different places but who still share a universality in being women.

55. Eighth Grade (dir. Bo Burnham, 2018)

Bo Burnham’s initial entry into the cinematic realm succeeds because of his experience in the different medium of YouTube, not despite it.  Having been with YouTube since its beginning, Burnham has an innate connection to the youngest generation.  This connection allows him to portray the kids in Eighth Grade as unique individuals not just a collection of stereotypes allotted to “kids these days”.  This understanding is best exemplified in the relationship between the father and daughter pair (played by Josh Hamilton and Elsie Fisher respectively).  Elsie’s character acts irrational as most eighth graders do, but her father doesn’t bemoan her for that; instead he accepts that puberty does weird things to people and does his best to understand.

54. The Farewell (dir. Lulu Wang, 2019)

Casting Awkwafina as lead in a dramatic film where a young woman struggles to say goodbye to her dying grandmother was certainly a gamble, but it proved to be one that paid off. Awkwafina proves she is more than just a comedian in Lulu Wang’s touching film, but still uses her comedic flare to impart some much-needed levity into the otherwise depressing premise. Lulu Wang grounds the emotion inherent in the premise just enough to keep it’s meaning while preventing the film from moving into the realm of melodrama.

53. Victoria (dir. Sebastian Schipper, 2015)

Victoria is a two-hour 18-minute crime thriller shot in real time with zero cuts. And by zero cuts, I mean actually zero cuts. No hidden cuts like in 2019’s 1917 (dir. Sam Mendes), but legitimately a single uncut take. The story of the film is interesting if unremarkable, but this is an instance in which the gimmick elevates the film. Shooting in real time accomplishes two things enhances the effectiveness of the range of emotions the characters feel. The time gap between exhilaration, exuberance, and terror being so minimal compounds the rollercoaster feel of the film.

52. Things to Come (dir. Mia Hansen-Løve, 2016)

Despite the Hollywood adage that there are no acting parts for women over 30, Isabelle Huppert has been able to get consistent work in the decade excelling in the scarce few roles for middle-aged women. In Things to Come, she delivers her best performance with the help of French auteur Mia Hansen-Løve. In the film she depicts Nathalie, a woman who sees her life fall apart in front of her eyes. Taxed with consecutive tragedies, she subsists through them. A mid-life crisis that’s circumstance driven instead of born of ennui, she is still able to derive new fulfillment in the freedoms thrust upon her.

51. Uncut Gems (dir. Benny and Josh Safdie, 2019)

This movie is a lot. The Safdie Brothers have a habit of filling their films to with constant stimuli. Uncut Gems builds upon this style by enlisting the manic acting of Adam Sandler manic acting who once again proves that when in the hands of a capable director he can be an excellent actor.  The other trademark of a Safdie film is showing a seedy aspect of New York. Uncut Gems accomplishes this despite its main characters coming from wealth by making Sandler a compulsive gambler and owner of a shady diamond shop. Everything about this film just clicks in the speed and intensity of the Safdie Brothers’ direction.

I realize that I’m a few months late in posting this list, but I put it off trying to catch up on some films and then I felt it was too late. Three weeks into quarantine, and I’ve finally found the time and motivation to put together my list.

Part 1. Honorable Mentions 101-150 (in alphabetical order)
Part 2. 100 – 91
Part 3. 90 – 81
Part 4. 80 – 71 (below)
Part 5. 70 – 61
Part 6. 60 – 51
Part 7. 50 – 41
Part 8. 40 – 31 (coming soon)
Part 9. 30 – 21 (coming soon)
Part 10. 20 – 11 (coming soon)
Part 11. 10 – 1 (coming soon)

80. Two Days, One Night (dir. Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne, 2014)

Marion Cotillard scored a rare acting Oscar nomination from a non-English film for her devastating performance in the Dardenne brother’s anti-capitalist film Two Days, One Night. Her character, Sandra, is threatened with losing her job unless her coworkers willingly give up their bonus. She spends the titular time period showing up to her coworkers’ home and pleading to their humanity to keep her family from the brink of poverty by asking them to give up their money. A lovely film from pair of magnificent auteurs.

79. Booksmart (dir. Olivia Wilde, 2019)

So much more than just Superbad (2007) but with young women, Booksmart is a brilliant depiction of regret at wasted opportunities and fear of change coming to a head at a major junction in one’s life. Amy (Kaitlyn Dever) and Molly (Beanie Feldstein) balance their comedy and tragedy well as leads, but Booksmart’s real strength lies in it’s supporting cast. Initially portraying all supporting roles as traditional teenage comedy tropes, the film spends time lingering on each one allowing them their own moments of humanity. This is exemplified no better than with Billie Lourd as the standout Gigi.

78. Whiplash (dir. Damien Chazelle, 2014)

The movie that helped Damien Chazelle burst onto the public consciousness and won J.K. Simmons his Oscar, Whiplash is an important film in understanding America’s independent film scene in the 2010s. Chazelle’s films whether musicals or not, are heavily influenced by their music. Whiplash is not only about a jazz musician, but through the editing and direction the film itself takes on Jazz like quality. It crescendos in volume and pacing as the film’s plot intensifies. A perfect start to one of the decade’s breakout directors’ career.

77. If Beale Street Could Talk (dir. Barry Jenkins, 2018)

Barry Jenkins’s follow up to the Oscar winning Moonlight is another love story that specifically addresses social concerns of being black in America. Beginning the film in media res and using Kiki Layne’s voice over narration when switching between the past and present creates cohesion between the two halves of the film.  This non-linear storytelling allows for the climaxes of each half of the film to take place at the same time amplifying the power behind the story.  Jenkins proves his directing chops by turning this novel into a tightly paced drama, a skill that time and time again proves to be very rare.

76. Climax (dir. Gaspar Noé, 2019)

Argentinian provocateur Gaspar Noé’s 2019 film Climax needs to be viewed somewhere very dark and with the volume very loud. Noé’s films are known for having unconventional cinematic techniques implemented for the sake of making the viewer uncomfortable. With a basic storyline that members of a dance troop have their punch spiked with LSD at an after party, Climax implements a droning score and untethered camera to instill a dosed feeling in the audience as well as the characters. These techniques as well as the graphic imagery crescendo constantly throughout the film without a moments reprieve for the 100-minute runtime.

75. O.J.: Made in America (dir. Ezra Edelman, 2016)

I’ll be honest, I’m may be falling for the most equals best fallacy with this one, but the seven-and-a-half-hour documentary miniseries about O.J. Simpson was a great watch for me one Saturday in 2016.  The film uses its length to add necessary context for understanding the social implications of the O.J. case. A full episode of the documentary focuses on the Rodney King riots, which while not directly related to O.J. was essentially for understanding why the black community took the O.J. acquittal as a win. The film uses the flexibility afforded to it by being a miniseries to tell a complete and engrossing picture.

74. Anomalisa (dir. Charlie Kaufman and Duke Johnson, 2015)

Charlie Kaufman’s name attached to a film is always a must view experience for me, and his previous directing excursion, 2008’s Synecdoche, New York, is one of my all-time favorites. his foray into stop motion cinema for 2015’s Anomalisa further grabbed my interest as a medium which should be well poised to mix with Kaufman’s signature surrealism.  Sure enough, the stylized medium was perfect for delivering his blend humor and melancholy in the surreal. Highlighted by Jennifer Jason Leigh’s memorable unaccompanied rendition of Cyndi Lauper’s “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun”, Anomalisa is a one of a kind viewing experience.

73. Before Midnight (dir. Richard Linklater, 2013)

The third in Richard Linklater’s Before Trilogy, brings a touch of reality to the decade long love story between Jesse (Ethan Hawke) and Celine (Julie Delpy). Before Sunrise (1995) was a love at first sight fairy tale. Before Sunset (2004) was a statement to the power of love, that love would always find a way. Another 9 years later, and the couple finds that a relationship isn’t as simple as falling in love was. Delpy and Hawke are incredible as the characters they’ve been living with for much of their careers, and the realistic tone is a perfect next chapter in the trilogy.

72. 12 Years a Slave (dir. Steve McQueen, 2013)

British Auteur Steve McQueen does not make fun films. He works with dark topics and themes, and Solomon Northup (Chiwetel Ejiofor), a free man, being kidnapped and sold into slavery fits well into McQueen’s oeuvre. McQueen’s style of closeups and long takes both heighten the discomfort in viewing. His techniques rely on strong performances as they allow for less postproduction wizardry, and Ejiofor is a strong fit for the personal style. His face expresses the depths of his character’s emotions without needing to speak.

71. The Shape of Water (dir. Guillermo del Toro, 2017)

Guillermo del Toro delivered the most unconventional best picture winner in over a decade with his monster movie romance The Shape of Water. The two leads, Sally Hawkins as custodian Elisa and del Toro costumed regular Doug Jones as the Amphibian Man, both are speechless throughout the film, and yet their interspecies love story lacks nothing. Del Toro’s fantastical set design and the whimsical acting driven by the silent protagonists create a vision so perfect that the Academy couldn’t deny the new genre classic.

I realize that I’m a few months late in posting this list, but I put it off trying to catch up on some films and then I felt it was too late. Three weeks into quarantine, and I’ve finally found the time and motivation to put together my list.

Part 1. Honorable Mentions 101-150 (in alphabetical order)
Part 2. 100 – 91
Part 3. 90 – 81 (below)
Part 4. 80 – 71
Part 5. 70 – 61
Part 6. 60 – 51
Part 7. 50 – 41
Part 8. 40 – 31 (coming soon)
Part 9. 30 – 21 (coming soon)
Part 10. 20 – 11 (coming soon)
Part 11. 10 – 1 (coming soon)

90. Leave No Trace (dir. Debra Granik, 2018)

A movie that I really enjoyed this decade but didn’t quite make the list was Matt Ross’s Captain Fantastic (2016). That film was a comedic take on father who raised his children completely off the grid. Debra Granik’s Leave No Trace cuts the comedic scenarios to tell something more realistic and heart wrenching. Will (Ben Foster) is incapable of living in anything resembling a society, and has raised his daughter Tom (Tomasin McKenzie) similarly. After getting caught, Tom and Will are temporarily forced into a community. From that point, the film focuses on Tom as she struggles with choosing the life she’s always known, and the only life her father can life, or belonging to a community.

89. You Were Never Really Here (dir. Lynne Ramsay, 2018)

The first of Lynne Ramsay’s two films of the decade to make the list, what her production lacks in frequency she makes up by packing each film with an emotional depth that almost require her films be spaced so far apart. In You Were Never Really Here, Joaquin Phoenix continues to prove that he is one of the best actors working today as he disappears into the role traumatized veteran Joe. Though Phoenix rarely speaks throughout the film, the terror of his life is palpable thanks to his visual acting and Ramsay’s immaculate direction. Essentially what Joker (2019) would be if it was any good.

88. Burning (dir. Lee Chang-dong, 2018)

2018’s Burning is aptly named as it’s an extremely slow burn.  What appears to be a simple slice of life film slowly evolves into a thriller.  Steven Yeun plays the would-be antagonist perfectly ambiguously leaving much of the thriller components in the lead’s (Ah-in Yoo) head.  Director Le Chang-dong uses atmosphere to further enhance the uncertainty in the film.  Ah-in Yoo is frequently shot enshrouded by fog further emphasizing his confusion.  The entire film is shrouded in mystery visually, narratively, and emotionally.

87. Honeyland (dir. Tamara Kotevska and Ljubomir Stefanov, 2019)

Honeyland is a devastating documentary following Hatidze Muratova, a Macedonian beekeeper whose livelihood is threatened by greedy practices. The tragedy of the tale is that it’s not her greed that threatens her life, but that of her neighbor whom she befriended and taught her business. Honeyland is immersive in its portrayal of Muratova’s pastoral life. Her seemingly banal existence lends beauty to her circumstance but proves all the more heartbreaking when capitalism’s evil takes it all away from her.

86. Krisha (dir. Trey Edward Shults, 2016)

The opening long shot perfectly sets the tone for Trey Edward Shults’s debut feature Krisha. Krisha (Krisha Fairchild) is disheveled as she walks back and forth struggling to navigate the suburban streets of near identical mini mansions. This is not her world, and she is not ready for what’s to come. Meeting with family, many for the first time, after a long absence for a Thanksgiving feast is a shock that she is not ready for, and the memories that are dredged up only make things worse. Through long cuts an eerie score, and perfect sound mixing, Krisha recontextualizes a family drama and terns it into the horror movie that it can be.

85. The Kid with a Bike (dir. Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne, 2011)

The Dardenne brother’s are masters at making stories of the working class. The Kid with a Bike continues that trend, but expands upon the brother’s motifs by introducing a 12-year-old boy who is a victim of a working class life. Cyril (Thomas Doret) was abandoned by his working class, drunk father and lives in a children’s home. The abandonment has resulted in him acting out and becoming all together difficult. Only through a chance meeting with Samantha (Cécile de France) is he able to find someone to emotionally support him. Strong acting from both leads mixed with the Dardenne’s sentiment resulted in an excellent film.

84. Moonrise Kingdom (dir. Wes Anderson, 2012)

Wes Anderson is at his best when he’s working with children. His precision and whimsy can sometimes verge into the uncanny, but when the audience surrogate is a child, the style is more reminiscent of a storybook. Both child leads, Kara Hayward as Suzy and Jared Gilman as Sam, adapt to Anderson’s heightened dialogue and create an amazing love story. Their story fits perfectly into the storybook that is a Wes Anderson film world.

83. The Babadook (dir. Jennifer Kent, 2014)

Queer icon and grief monster Mr. Babadook got his start from the Jennifer Kent film titled for him. Horror wearing it’s allegory on it’s sleeve can be a good thing when done well, and Kent is able to effectively create a terrifying experience while still being heavy handed with said allegory. Essie Davis as Amelia perfectly captures the mindset of a woman tortured with unprocessed grief. Noah Wiseman plays her son Samuel and is the perfect creepy child in a horror film. These performances combined with a terrifying monster and immaculate horror direction create one of the best horror films of the decade.

82. Paddington 2 (dir. Paul King, 2018)

In these trying times, I think it’s important to remember what the philosopher bear Aunt Lucy said, “If we’re kind and polite, the world will be right.” Paddington 2 is the quintessential nicecore film. The CGI bear, voiced by Ben Whishaw, is pure hearted to a fault, and even when that gets him in trouble, he reflects on his aunt’s words and solves his problems by continuing to be nice. The supporting human casts of Sally Hawkings and Hugh Bonneville as Paddington’s adoptive parents, and Hugh Grant as the high camp antagonist, further enhance the charm that oozes out of Paul King’s film. While the first Paddington (2015) is also a delight, Paddington 2 builds on the strong foundation and creates a perfect family film.

81. We Need to Talk About Kevin (dir. Lynne Ramsay, 2011)

For much of the decade, Tilda Swinton played idiosyncratic characters in heightened films. She became a staple of well-regarded indie comedies becoming a staple of both Wes Anderson and Jim Jarmusch. A decided outlier from the very beginning of the decade is her leading role in Lynne Ramsay’s We Need to Talk About Kevin. In it she plays the mother of the titular Kevin (Rock Duer, Jasper Newell, and Ezra Miller depending on the time period) who is all alone and is trying to recover from an unknown event. As she goes about her day receiving endless abuse, she reminisces on her experiences raising Kevin whom she saw as evil when no one else did. A dreary film that shows off Swinton’s dramatic prowess.

 

I realize that I’m a few months late in posting this list, but I put it off trying to catch up on some films and then I felt it was too late. Three weeks into quarantine, and I’ve finally found the time and motivation to put together my list.

Part 1. Honorable Mentions 101-150 (in alphabetical order)
Part 2. 100 – 91 (below)
Part 3. 90 – 81
Part 4. 80 – 71
Part 5. 70 – 61 
Part 6. 60 – 51
Part 7. 50 – 41
Part 8. 40 – 31 (coming soon)
Part 9. 30 – 21 (coming soon)
Part 10. 20 – 11 (coming soon)
Part 11. 10 – 1 (coming soon)

100. Sorry to Bother You (dir. Boots Riley, 2018)

Boots Riley shocked the chain theater going public with his 2018 satire Sorry to Bother You. The film begins in an only slightly enhanced version of our world. Cassius and Detroit (LaKeith Stanfield and Tessa Thompson) living in a garage is quirky but is not outside the realm of a standard class struggle satire. Around a third of the way through the film, Cassius introduces his white voice (voiced by David Cross) which begins the films decent into the surreal. From there, the film spirals far from standard fair, and results in one of the most unique films of the decade.

99. Girlhood (dir. Céline Sciamma, 2014)

“Shine bright like a diamond.” Rihanna’s song “Diamonds” is played in full for the most memorable moment of Céline Sciamma’s Girlhood, and its lyrics resonate throughout the film’s runtime. Marieme’s (Karidja Touré) abusive background leads her to search for support in a group of girls who christen her Vic. The sisterhood they create is powerful as they attempt to navigate the unfortunate circumstances that life dealt them. The last act of the film leads Vic down a depressing path, but even in such an unsavory situation, she finds a way to shine.

98. Cameraperson (dir. Kirsten Johnson, 2017)

When a documentary is created, hundreds to thousands of hours of footage are left on the cutting room floor. The directors choose only the perfect frames that fit the narrative of their piece. Some of what’s cut are nothing but test shots, but others are extremely personal moments, many that reveal more about the director and cinematographer than the subjects. As the cinematographer of dozens of documentaries, Kirsten Johnson pieces together the scraps from the ones she’s worked on to create this unique and personal film.

97. Martha Marcy May Marlene (dir. Sean Durkin, 2011)

As I left the theater in 2011, I was ready to proclaim Elizabeth Olsen the breakout actress of the decade. While it’s hard to say she wasn’t successful, being an Avenger clearly qualifies as a success, she never lived up to her breakthrough performance. In Martha Marcy May Marlene, she plays a young woman who attempts to recoup at her sister’s (Sarah Paulson) home after escaping a cult. Olsen’s portrayal of the emotionally damaged woman who is incapable of expressing what’s wrong is what inspired me to make such a bold claim about her. The film builds on her performance by having it’s intensity crescendo throughout the film as the uncertainty of whether cult members are following her and if she’s safe remains through the last moment.

96. The Love Witch (dir. Anna Biller, 2016)

Neon colors, bloody murders, and women wearing gartered lingerie may sound like the makings of a 70’s sexploitation film, but Anna Biller had some decidedly different inspirations in her 2016 film The Love Witch. A direct homage to Jacques Demy’s Donkey Skin (1970) hints at the deeper motives of the film. In creating The Love Witch, Biller set out to create a movie about being a woman and a woman’s needs in love. Samantha Robinson as Elaine seduces via witchcraft and ultimately kills many men in her search for romantic fulfillment, but unlike sexploitation films, the focus is on her and her needs. Not the body parts nor body count.

95. A Ghost Story (dir. David Lowery, 2017)

When we die, what do we leave behind? David Lowery’s A Ghost Story reunites his Ain’t Them Bodies Saints (more on that below) stars Rooney Mara and Casey Affleck to grapple with that question. Early in the film, Affleck’s character (neither his nor Mara’s characters are named) dies, but as the title hints comes back as a ghost. The film eschews gaudy special effects and represents this in the simplest way possible, a sheet with two eye holes. As a ghost, Affleck is sentenced to witness what he left behind, and, as the main audience connection, forces a voyeuristic viewpoint on the remainder of the film. First, he watches Mara’s grieving process (including a ten-minute, two shot scene of her eating a pie while crying). Then he watches as she moves on with her life. What happens after speaks to the triviality of the initial question.

94. Columbus (dir. Kogonada, 2017)

The premise has been dozens of times over. Two unconnected people in search of meaning or guidance cross each other’s path and create an intimate (though not necessarily romantic) relationship. They wander and discuss and help one another find meaning in their lives.  Columbus is another of that ilk, and yet somehow much more. By subverting the dialogue heavy standard for the genre with silence and character contemplation, Kogonada creates a cinematic experience outside of the expected.

93. Le Havre (dir. Aki Kaurismäki, 2011)

A story about n man living in poverty with his dying wife who finds a refugee child and uses his remaining means to reunite the child with his family… but make it funny. My experience with Kaurismäki is limited, the only other of his films that I’ve seen is The Other Side of Hope (2017), but between the two it seems that he is very adapt at inserting a bit of humor and joy into unpleasant situations. His characters exist somewhat in an uncanny valley, but their stories speak to the community we poses as humans that the depressing situations become heartwarming.

92. Ain’t Them Bodies Saints (dir. David Lowery, 2013)

The second David Lowery film staring Casey Affleck and Rooney Mara in this section of my best of list may be the more conventional of the two, but Lowery’s heavily stylized tone and technique are still ever present in this crime romance. The intense jailbreak story is heavily sedated by Daniel Hart’s intoxicating score and a playful use of light and color. Through these artistic techniques, Ain’t Them Bodies Saints possess a dream-like quality. Ruth’s (Mara) love for Bob (Affleck) supersedes the conventional story and results in a beautiful film.

91. Phoenix (dir. Christian Petzold, 2015)

Quite honestly, the first 95 minutes of Phoenix are good but would not be worthy of a place on this list. The last three minutes on the other hand constitute the greatest ending scene of the decade and would be in contention for the greatest ending of all time.  Nina Hoss as Nelly Lenz singing the classic song “Speak Low” is stunning and emotional and runs a chill down my spine every time I re-watch those last few minutes.

The Best Films of the Decade

I realize that I’m a few months late in posting this list, but I put it off trying to catch up on some films and then I felt it was too late. Three weeks into quarantine, and I’ve finally found the time and motivation to put together my list.

Part 1. Honorable Mentions 101-150 (in alphabetical order) (below)
Part 2. 100 – 91
Part 3. 90 – 81
Part 4. 80 – 71
Part 5. 70 – 61
Part 6. 60 – 51
Part 7. 50 – 41
Part 8. 40 – 31 (coming soon)
Part 9. 30 – 21 (coming soon)
Part 10. 20 – 11 (coming soon)
Part 11. 10 – 1 (coming soon)

20th Century Women (dir. Mike Mills, 2016) – A sweet coming of age movie driven by the three amazing women leads (Annette Bening, Elle Fanning, and Greta Gerwig) as they together raise Bening’s character’s son (Billy Crudup).

3 Faces (dir. Jafar Panahi, 2019) – One of Panahi’s illegally made films, this one focusing on the restraints put on Iranian women, and how the alure of fame can act as a respite from the overbearing system.

The Assassin (dir. Hou Hsiao-Hsien, 2015) – If you’re looking for non-stop kung-fu action, then The Assassin is not what you’re looking for. If you’re interested in an incredibly slow ponderous tale with some light action, then Hou Hsiao-Hsien made a film for you.

Beach Rats (dir. Eliza Hittman, 2017) – Eliza Hittman’s coming of age story of a young queer boy (Harris Dickinson) in Brooklyn who spends his summer experimenting with substances and older men.

Black Swan (dir. Darren Aronofsky, 2010) – The film that won Natalie Portman her lone Oscar (stay tuned to the upcoming lists for the film that should have won her a second). Her performance mixed well with Aronofsky’s thriller direction.

BlacKkKlansman (dir. Spike Lee, 2018) – Potentially the best film Lee has put together since Do the Right Thing (1989). It’s a shame that it will be remembered most for losing to Green Book (2018) much like Do the Right Thing did to Driving Miss Daisy (1989).

Blade Runner 2049 (dir. Denis Villeneuve, 2017) – It is not as good as the 1982 Ridley Scott classic, but Villeneuve manages to capture enough of the classic’s ponderous atmosphere and intrigue to make it a welcome addition to the original’s legacy.

Blue is the Warmest Colour (dir. Abdellatif Kechiche, 2013) – While the arguments against the film that the sex scenes are shot from a distinctly male gaze, the lead performances by Léa Seydoux and Adèle Exarchopoulos are among the best of the decade and earn Blue is the Warmest Colour a spot on this list.

Brooklyn (dir. John Crowley, 2015) – Saoirse Ronan and writer Nick Hornby are a perfect mix. She embodies his romantic sensibilities in perfect harmony.

Can You Ever Forgive Me? (dir. Marielle Heller, 2018) – The film that would be #101 on the list if I was ranking these, Marielle Heller reminds the world that Melissa McCarthy is an accomplished dramatic performer in this biopic.

Cloud Atlas (dir. Lilly and Lana Wachowski and Tom Tykwer, 2012) – Yes it’s a bit of a mess, but that’s only because it’s ambitions were so high. What remains is a great eon-spanning drama with one of the decades best scores.

The Day He Arrives (dir. Hong Sang-Soo, 2012) – A depressed, no longer working director returns to his hometown, and attempts to find meaning in a series of Groundhog Dayesque scenes, as if he is directing and re-directing real life.

The Diary of a Teenage Girl (dir. Marielle Heller, 2015) – The US version of 2009’s Fish Tank, Bel Powley stands out in the mature coming of age story.

Ex Machina (dir. Alex Garland, 2015) – Minimalist science fiction that meditates on what it is to be human is my kink, and this won’t be Garlands last of those films on this list.

A Fantastic Woman (dir. Sebastián Lelio, 2017) – As a trans woman myself, I feel confident in saying that most films about us are exploitative bullshit. A Fantastic Woman on the other hand, is honest and moving.

The Florida Project (dir. Sean Baker, 2017) – Child actor Brooklynn Prince is a standout in the depressing depiction of poverty in the shadow of the Disney World artifice.

The Forbidden Room (dir. Guy Maddin, 2015) – A collection of stories made from fake lost footage accented by a song about Udo Kier’s unrelenting obsession with butts and a tutorial on how to take a bath. Maddin isn’t for everyone but if you’re up for something bizarre I highly recommend The Forbidden Room.

Girl Walk // All Day (dir Jacob Krupnick) – Obsessively just a 75 minute music video to Girl Talks All Day album, I don’t think any movie has given me more joy this decade than this film.

Good Time (dir. Benny and Josh Safdie, 2017) – A neon tinted hellish thriller throughout New York where no one is a good person, but you can’t help but feel for their motivations anyway.

Goodbye First Love (dir. Mia Hansen-Løve, 2012) – Young love is never what it seems, but its an important part of growing up, and Mia Hansen-Løve understands those emotions and how they impact the life of a young woman.

The Grand Budapest Hotel (dir. Wes Anderson, 2014) – Wes Anderson playing with aspect ratio to differentiate time periods adds to his already iconic meticulously crafted mise-en-scène.

The Handmaiden (dir. Park Chan-wook, 2016) – Constantly shifting perspectives and lack of an omniscient camera lend an air of mystery to the lesbian thriller.

High Life (dir. Clare Denis, 2019) – Claire Denis’s low-concept science fiction film relies on strong performances from Robert Pattinson and Juliette Binoche to create an eerie isolating experience.

Hustlers (dir. Lorene Scafaria, 2019) – Through what could be a straightforward Scorsese crime film homage, Lorene Scafaria tells a story about the power of female friendship set atop the glitz and glam and a New York strip club.

Inside Out (dir. Pete Doctor and Ronnie Del Carmen, 2015) – The best Pixar film of the decade does what most Pixar films do best: present a mature emotional core behind a film that can be consumed by all ages.

Kate Plays Christine (dir. Robert Greene, 2016) – A film that stretches the definition of what a documentary is and can be, the story of an actress preparing for a role that doesn’t exist in order to personalize a near forgotten story is innovative and memorable.

Kubo and the Two Strings (dir. Travis Knight, 2016) – Animation studio Laika Entertainment’s masterpiece, Kubo and the Two Strings mixes great voice acting, a strong story, and breathtaking stop motion.

The Lobster (dir. Yorgos Lanthimos, 2015) – A very dark comedy that introduced Yorgos Lanthimos to a wider audience than his prior Greek films is fascinating in its straight-faced absurdness.

Love & Friendship (dir Whit Stillman, 2016) – Whit Stillman’s heightened style mixes perfectly with Jane Austen’s writing, and reuniting with his Last Days of Disco leads Kate Beckinsale and Chloë Sevigny is a joy.

The Lure (dir. Agnieszka Smoczynska, 2017) – A Polish, cannibal, mermaid, musical and if that’s not enough to pique your interest, I don’t know what’s wrong with you.

Manchester by the Sea (dir. Kenneth Lonergan, 2016) – A trio of great performances (Casey Affleck, Michelle Williams, and Lucas Hedges) highlight this emotional tale of loss and isolation.

Margaret (dir. Kenneth Lonergan, 2011) – The studio’s lack of faith in Lonergan’s two and a half plus magnum opus is the only reason it qualifies for this decades list, but the meandering search for meaning is amazing if not commercially viable.

The Miseducation of Cameron Post (dir. Desiree Akhavan, 2018) – Essentially a dramatic retelling of But I’m a Cheerleader (1999), The Miseducation of Cameron Post tells the story of a girl at a conversion therapy camp in a way that’s more complex than just stating that it’s wrong.

Miss Stevens (dir. Julia Hart, 2016) – Criminally looked over, this early performance from Timothée Chalamet mixes comedy with emotional depth in a way that it’s one sentence blurb undermines.

Mistress America (dir. Noah Baumbach) – This movie is just fun. Greta Gerwig as a 30-something who doesn’t have her life together is a welcome character for this 30-something who doesn’t have her life together.

Moneyball (dir. Bennett Miller, 2011) – Sports movies are not the type that are likely to end up on my best of list, but a solid screenplay coupled with great acting performances makes this one to watch.

Mr. Turner (dir. Mike Leigh, 2014) – Timothy Spall embodies the eccentricity of painter J.M.W. Turner and portrays a deeply unpleasant painter who is still fascinating in the lengths he goes to for his passion.

Obvious Child (dir. Gillian Robespierre, 2014) – Jenny Slate stars in this answer to the standard rom-com. The matter-of fact discussion of Slate’s character’s decision to have an abortion is a welcome stance on a common occurrence that is still relegated to taboo.

Paint it Black (dir. Amber Tamblyn, 2016) – Amber Tamblyn’s directorial debut is an intense character drama exploring the emotional struggles of grief.

Samsara (dir. Ron Fricke – 2011) – The cinematographer of the Qatsi trilogy, makes his own entry into the emotionally stirring, beautifully shot, non-narrative documentary.

Scott Pilgrim vs. the World (dir. Edgar Wright, 2010) – The only comic book movie to make my list (save your hate mail, I don’t care) Edgar Wright’s frenetic style mixes so well with the source material that I do feel bad we missed out the potential of an Edgar Wright Ant-Man.

Sing Street (dir. John Carney, 2016) – A blast of a musical. The story is lovely and heartwarming, the young actors well performed, and the soundtrack absolutely slaps.

The Square (dir. Ruben Östlund, 2017) – A film that examines the meanings behind modern and performance are and the rich members of society who consume it without understanding.

Suspiria (dir. Luc Guadagnino, 2018) – As a remake of a classic, Guadagnino differentiates his version of Suspiria by foregoing the original’s trademark color scheme and classic score allowing it to stand on its own.

The Tale (dir. Jennifer Fox, 2018) – Jennifer Fox’s visual memoir is an emotionally difficult watch. One which becomes all the more devastating when you remember that it’s a true story.

Tiny Furniture (dir. Lena Dunham, 2010) – Before she made the TV show Girls Lena Dunham made on of the most important films of the mumblecore movement staring her real-life family and Girls costar Jemima Kirke.

Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives (dir. Apichatpong Weerasethakul, 2010) – The utterly bizarre Palme d’Or winner examines mortality, not through a melancholic tone, but one accepting of the final stage of life.

Upstream Color (dir. Shane Carruth, 2013) – Shane Carruth follows up Primer (2005), one of the driest and science heavy science fiction films of all time, with the exact opposite in the contemplative and fantastical Upstream Color.

Winter’s Bone (dir. Debra Granik, 2010) – What if Jennifer Lawrence’s Katniss Everdeen was transported to present day Missouri, and her story was not written for children? Then you’d have Winter’s Bone.

The Witch (dir. Robert Eggers, 2016) – The films that arguably set off the A24 horror movement, The Witch exemplifies the A24 horror trademark, a slow burn that cressendos throughout the film without release.