Top 30 films you’re supposed to pretend you’ve watched twice
Gather around, cine-snobs and weekend warriors alike. The New York Times has once again handed us their curated list of the “100 Best Movies of the 21st Century,” as ranked by 500 industry insiders. In a world where joy equates to a cat video getting 10 million likes, this list is their way of whispering, “You peasants… you don’t deserve cinema.”
But fear not—you don’t actually need to watch all 100. The real magic lives in the Top 30—the films you can name-drop to signal you’re deep and worth inviting to dinner parties.
🏆 The Big Guns (Top 5)
#1 Parasite – Congratulations! You can now cite global inequality and witty home invasion tropes in the same sentence.
#2 Mulholland Drive – The sexy, surreal fever dream you’ll pretend you “just got” last night during a Zoom schmooze session.
#3 There Will Be Blood – We don’t care if you’ve only seen the first minute; cold-open energy is enough.
#4 In the Mood for Love – Mood = owner of your heart flexing emotional restraint muscles
#5 Moonlight – For when you want to say “It made me feel seen,” then cry in your oatmeal.
Honor Roll of Modern High Art (6–15)
6. No Country for Old Men – Javier Bardem’s coin toss is the only gamble you’re allowed to discuss.
7. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind – The millennial therapy anthem masquerading as sci-fi romance.
8. Get Out – People say it defined “social horror.” You should say you “felt it in my bones.”
9. Spirited Away – Anime is film, deal with it.
10. The Social Network – The only movie that made “Let me call you back” sound like a betrayal.
11. Mad Max: Fury Road – Feminism on a Fury-fueled desert road trip. Gas tank not included.
12. The Zone of Interest – A Holocaust movie where awkward silences are louder than bullets.
13. Children of Men – If film schools had mascots, this would be it.
14. Inglourious Basterds – Tarantino but make it World War II rewrite fantasy.
15. City of God – Fake subtitles? No, welcome to the real shit show.
The Sophisticated Second-Tier (16–24)
16. Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon – Wire-fu and forbidden glances—two things your therapist gifted you.
17. Brokeback Mountain – Cowboy heartbreak beats cowboy leather any day.
18. Y tu mamá también – Coming-of-age and economic disparity in sweatpants.
19. Zodiac – Proof that real murder is, in fact, boring as hell.
20. The Wolf of Wall Street – Watch it to audition for the “Addicted to your own cliché” role.
21. The Royal Tenenbaums – Dysfunctional families look cooler in Wes Anderson symmetry.
22. The Grand Budapest Hotel – A pastel-coated pastry of heartbreak with a side of murder.
23. Boyhood – 12 years of boredom meticulously edited into existential wallpaper.
24. Her – A love story you justify as “philosophical.”
The Midlist Mood Setters (25–30)
25. Phantom Thread – Creepy couture fetishizing dining table power dynamics.
26. Anatomy of a Fall – Yes, you do get that metaphor about marriage collapse.
27. Adaptation – Self-deprecating meta-narrative.
28. The Dark Knight – Joker memes and grilled cheese sandwiches of moral ambiguity.
29. Arrival – Language, grief, and circular time—submarine-level emotional baggage.
30. Lost in Translation – The Tokyo sweet sorrow of realizing you might never belong.
The Real Story: It’s Not About Watching
This list isn’t recommending movies people loved. It’s a flex list. A brag sheet. A Poindexter power move.
- It’s not about joy—glad you liked Paddington 2, but it’s only “cinema” if you sob in French.
- It’s not about entertainment—unless you’re killing Nazis in slow motion (Inglourious Basterds).
- It’s really not about commercial success—that superhero you love? Not kosher here unless it’s subversively depressing (The Dark Knight skirts it).
Lesson?: It’s curated by people who stopped watching popcorn fare eight screenings ago. Everything’s deconstructed. Every shot is a thesis. Dialogue is optional.
Why It Still Matters
Don’t get me wrong—this is a genuinely strong list. Even if you skipped Synecdoche, New York because you couldn’t afford therapy props, it’s thoughtful. Diverse. Global. But it’s rare insight, not a blueprint.
Real movie love happens in sweatpants. During pajama dance parties with Legally Blonde. On road trips with Shrek 2. In hospital rooms with Moana playing like an emotional lighthouse. It’s not linear.
Go Make Your Own 21st-Century Canon
So here’s my proposal: stop chanting NYT like it’s holy water. Replace it with your list. Watch what makes you feel, not what makes them sound smart.
Sure, drop Parasite and Get Out as safe bets. But give yourself permission to love Stardust or Crazy Rich Asians. To cry at The Fortnight of a Fishmonger. To explain why Paddington 2 is cinema healing in bear form.
Because at the end of the day, the “best” movie is the one that changes your life.
My bold final recommendation? Watch it in sweatpants. Cry. Laugh. Repeat.
That’s what cinema’s made for.about a dying woman and calling it “a meditation on light.”