As the 2010s come to a close, there’s no better time to reflect on the fantastic filmgoing experiences that have graced the big screen over the last ten years. To celebrate another decade in the books, we spoke with film critics, filmmakers, film festival coordinators, and personalities from around the internet about their favorite movies and filmgoing experiences that have shaped their love for cinema from the last ten years.
In part two of The Cinematropolis four-part series, we spoke members of the Oklahoma Film Critics Circle, past and present, about their most beloved films of the 2010s.
Jason Black, KJYO-FM, iHeartMedia, Broadcast Film Critics’ Association
Creed (2015)
In 2015 we had the seventh entry into the Rocky, Star Wars and The Fast and Furious franchises respectively. All are worthy entrants, but Creed stood out by taking a different approach to revitalizing the tired franchise, giving Sylvester Stallone a platform for the best acting of his career and cementing Ryan Coogler as one of the best young directors working today.
Zero Dark Thirty (2012)
Ok, so we found out later that a lot of this wasn’t true. But at the time I thought it was! I don’t know that I’ve ever been tenser in a movie than the raid on Osama Bin Laden’s compound. I walked out of the theater and said, “That’s the movie to beat for Best Picture.” It lost to Argo. (Which I also liked!)
Sing Street (2016)
Boy approaches girl, “Do you want to be in a music video for my band?” Girl says, “Sure.” Boy walks to friend and says, “We need to start a band.” 80’s. Dublin. Rock and Roll. I loved this movie so much I couldn’t wait for it to be over so I could start it again.
Inside Out (2015)
I don’t know if this is my favorite Pixar movie, but it’s the one that hit me the hardest. I thought I was going to watch it and it would make me emotional because I’m a parent. Instead, it made me mourn my own childhood. Bing Bong ripped my heart out. “Take her to the moon for me!”
Craig Sanger, KOKH-TV FOX 25, WWLS-FM, KYIS-FM, KATT-FM
Zero Dark Thirty (2012)
Even if the truthiness of the content remains in question, there’s no doubt that the craftwork and mechanics of the film operate at such a high level it stills stands one of the decade’s strongest procedural thrillers.
The Social Network (2010)
An absolute legendary pairing of Hollywood heavyweights. David Fincher and Aaron Sorkin tackle one of the decade’s most relevant topics and polarizing figures, Mark Zuckerberg. And to this day, the story and central figure are still in the consciousness of the public as we come to terms with our own social media privacy concerns.
Inception (2010)
Christopher Nolan, one of the sharpest minds working in film, spins, not only, a heady tale but one that has mass appeal and had huge box office success. The perfect mix of ingredients you want to see from a summer blockbuster, and just what big studio event pictures so rarely deliver.
Once Upon a Time…in Hollywood (2019)
I know this was released in the final year of the decade, but there’s no recency bias happening here, Quentin Tarantino’s ninth feature is just that good. Rewatchability is not the only measure of a good movie, but this is the most rewatchable film of the last ten years. Tarantino packs so much detail, color, and careful consideration into this period piece love-letter that it makes for a truly remarkable movie-going experience.
James Cooper, OKC’s Ward 2 Councilperson and former president of the Oklahoma Film Critics Circle
The Florida Project (2016)
What I wrote in 2016: My jaw dropped during the film’s gut-punching final scene.
Director Sean Baker describes his movie as, “the juxtaposition of having kids growing up in motels right outside ‘the happiest place on earth.’” It’s about reality, about the 78 percent of Americans living paycheck to paycheck, the 39 percent with no savings, the people who call motels “home.”
That Baker snuck into Disney World to film one of the movie’s most breathtaking moments is audacious, a middle finger to a multi-national corporation and tourist industry seemingly content with not paying its low-wage workers a living wage.
Told mostly from the perspective of its charismatic young protagonist and her rowdy friends, The Florida Project is funny, moving, and visually captivating. It’s a welcome breath of fresh air.
Mad Max: Fury Road (2015)
Shot for shot, a flawless action film and artistic achievement in visual storytelling.
Moonlight (2016)
What I wrote in 2016: Riveting. Truly, I’ve never seen anything like it. Maybe A Single Man, New Queer Cinema film Mala Noche or the documentary Tongues Untied. The story about a young black boy, bullied at school and in his neighborhood because kids think he’s gay, is so well-told, its performances so captivating, it’s breathtaking.
Spring Breakers (2012)
A devastating critique of consumerism, violence, and addiction in 21st Century American society. Brutal, beautiful, hilarious satire.
Twin Peaks: The Return (2017)
What I wrote in 2017: An aural and visual love letter to television and film, David Lynch’s third season of Twin Peaks is sublime.
Lynch’s “18-hour film” offers moving images as poetry, sound as metaphor, story as allegory—precisely the promise of cinema—which is why the NYC Museum of Modern Art screened it as part of its Contenders Series honoring 2017’s best films.
The first two episodes premiered at the Cannes Film Festival, where a teary-eyed Lynch received a five-minute standing ovation, rightfully so.
Episode eight — with its atomic bomb explosion sequence and visual references to experimental filmmaker Stan Brakhage — stands out, however, as an exceptional moment in film and television history, arguably revolutionary.
Wonder Woman (2017)
From the moment Wonder Woman appeared on screen in her Amazonian glory, she was instantly different than every female comic adaptation before her. The solo film cemented her icon status in the stumbling DCEU, and it is the Rupert Gregson-Williams score for her triumph through “No Man’s Land” that continues to bring me to tears. Marvel couldn’t come close to the emotion captured by Gal Gadot and Patty Jenkins when Captain Marvel arrived on the scene, and the choice to elevate emotion over formula represents a continued strength of the evolving DCEU.
Spotlight (2015)
Deemed the spiritual successor to 1976’s All The President’s Men, Spotlight is a reminder of the power the press can wield in the face of society’s institutional behemoths of industry, government, and even religion. As the team of investigative reporters at the Boston Globe track down leads, find connections and bring justice to victims of the Catholic Church clergy, we see why the service the press performs is a shadow check and balance on the government. As local news outlets dwindle and the idea of “fake news” or “alternative facts” are cemented in our national vocabulary, I hope films like Spotlight and The Post (2017) are held up as examples of why media matters and why the public should support their efforts to shine a light on the truth.
Easy A (2010)
Where would we be without Easy A? We certainly wouldn’t be as fond of “Pocket Full of Sunshine” as we are now. Earworms aside, Easy A is best remembered as the coming-of-age film brilliantly set against the backdrop of Nathaniel Hawthorne’s The Scarlet Letter. It’s a showcase for Emma Stone and thanks to the master class in sass she brings to the role, the film plays with its themes of sex ed, abstinence, truth, and perception to drive home its message on individuality. Films like Easy A and Blockers(2018) demonstrate how the coming of age genre has grown to include the female perspective as something other than the object of desire, and with #MeToo, we can only expect this evolution to continue.
Adam Chitwood, Deputy Editor at Collider
The Social Network (2010)
The definitive film about life in the 21st century: a world in which twentysomethings run some of the most successful and influential companies on the planet. A brilliant marriage between the director (David Fincher) and screenwriter (Aaron Sorkin) executed to perfection.
Her (2013)
Leave it to Spike Jonze to use the story of a man falling in love with his operating system to encapsulate what it means to be human. Soulful and deeply felt, Joaquin Phoenix also gives one of the best performances of the decade.
Inside Llewyn Davis (2013)
This Coen Brothers masterwork was deemed prickly by some, but I consider it to be one of their most deeply felt films. A brutally honest chronicle of what it means to be an artist led by an all-timer performance from Oscar Isaac.
Four Lions (2010)
Don’t think terrorism is a laughing matter? Don’t think you could feel sympathy for a terrorist? You clearly haven’t seen Four Lions, a sharp, scathing black comedy from Great Britain. With an early starring role for then-unknown Riz Ahmed, it’s simply brilliant.
Drive (2011)
Pulsing with atmosphere as snake venom courses through its veins, Nicolas Winding Refn’s Drive came out of nowhere and immediately established itself as a new crime classic. A Mouseketeer no more, Ryan Gosling clobbered to stardom in a role as tough as Albert Brooks’ was scary. Bonus: Damnnnnn, that soundtrack …
Prisoners (2013)
Denis Villeneuve earned a Best Director Oscar nomination for Arrival, yet Prisoners — from three years prior — is his masterpiece. Expertly crafted and deliberately paced (and featuring peak-Roger Deakins cinematography), the parental-revenge puzzle thriller keeps Hugh Jackman, Jake Gyllenhaal and the audience on their proverbial toes, right down to a diabolically divisive ending.
Green Room (2016)
Never has a film represented the cultural changing of the guard, both in spirit and politics, than Green Room, Jeremy Saulnier’s follow up to his breakout indie-crime Blue Ruin. Released in spring 2016, when Liberal America was still HAF from the euphoria of the Obama era, Saulnier’s tight-as-a-drum thriller about a band of gutter punks taking a last-minute show at a skinhead bar somewhere in the wilderness of Oregon arrived as a cautionary tale about the dangers of white supremacy that laid ahead.
Green Room couldn’t feel more like a prophecy of the following four years if Nostradamus had directed it himself. From a group of skinheads led by a bloviating businessman to their attempt to fabricate a narrative that paints them in a sympathetic view to authorities, right down to the tenacious punk rockers, fronted by the amazing Anton Yelchin, constant need to punch a nazi- or hack their limbs off in some cases- at every turn. Green Room could arguably come out today and feel like a parable for the last 3 years in America. That it still feels relevant is a testament to the muted precision of Saulnier’s writing and directing, and a warning flare to stay alert.
Magic Mike (2012)
For a guy who “retired” halfway through, has there been any director with such a prolific run in a 10-year stretch as Steven Soderbergh? Magic Mike, the neon-filled and baby-oil soaked ode to economic anxiety in the post-2008 financial meltdown America, may arguably be his best of the decade.
Working from a script by Reid Carolin, Magic Mike takes place in the dimly lit, and probably designer cologne drenched world of male stripping. That’s simply the vessel for Soderbergh and crew to explore economic anxiety and self-worth in a world that was rapidly evolving before it could recover from the financial ruin. I’d like to believe filmmakers like Soderbergh, along with David Fincher, or Martin Scorsese were unaware of just how reflective, timeless, or wildly acclaimed their films (The Social Network and The Wolf of Wall Street respectively) would become. Of all of them, it’s Magic Mike that feels the most sympathetic to the plight of the working class recovering from a financial disaster and sitting on the edge of abandonment by the political greed and corporate sentience taking hold on our culture and society.
Kill List (2011)
Ben Wheatley’s feature film debut—co-written with Amy Jump—is basically everything 2019’s Joker tried to be, but without the problematic depictions of mental illness and “anti-woke” sentiments. Add to that a truly WTF plot, and you have one of the most seriously unnerving films ever made. A must-see for fans of psychological, possibly supernatural horror.
Under The Skin (2013)
Adapted from Michael Faber’s 2000 novel of the same name, but only slightly resembling its source material, Jonathan Glazer’s film is surreal, gorgeous, terrifying, and heartbreaking, often all at once. Much has been said of Scarlett Johansson’s performance in this year’s Marriage Story, but Under the Skin may be her true career-defining role.
Mad Max: Fury Road (2015)
The chase film perfected. It will likely never get better than this, from a visual, pacing, and editing standpoint, to say nothing of the straightforward yet universally poignant plot, which grapples with the subjugation of women, toxic masculinity, environmental disaster, and the greed of the super rich. It’s not only one of the best films of the last decade, but of all time.
The Blackcoat’s Daughter (2017)
This chilly horror film made hardly a ripple upon its release, and that’s a damn shame, because it features some truly unsettling imagery, on par with the more critically lauded and equally great The Witch and Hereditary. It’s also one of the saddest films ever made, as it deals with a girl so lonely and depressed she’d rather be in congress with pure evil than spend another holiday alone. Many see the 2010s as one of the best decades for horror, and Oz Perkins’s The Blackcoat’s Daughter is one of the brightest-shining examples.
The Nightingale (2019)
Jennifer Kent’s breakout debut The Babadook has already shown up on other “best films of the decade” lists (both horror-specific and all-genre-inclusive), and while it’s certainly a worthy entry, the filmmaker’s follow-up should really be there too. The Nightingale is a more difficult and harrowing film to view, but its themes of colonialism, the rampant violation of women and indigenous people, and systemic violence are far too potent to be ignored. No other film has a better summation of 2019 and, indeed, the entire decade than this one.
True Grit (2010)
Cineplexes were awash with remakes, retellings and reboots all damn decade long, but here’s one that still bites harder than a cave full of rattlesnakes. I doubt there’s a sturdier Western than 2010’s True Grit. That goes for any decade. The Coen Brothers actually bookended the past ten years with Westerns but this one is significantly less strange than the funky mixed bag that was Buster Scruggs. The remake is remarkable for many reasons — soundtrack near the top — but I love how seamlessly Jeff Bridges filled the spurs of John Wayne and introduced a fiery Hailee Steinfeld into the movie world. I’ve rewatched True Grit at least a dozen times, and it’s always a wonderful combination of funny, dramatic and strange. Even the bit players are memorable. Remember the amateur dentist wearing a bear suit? He made that cool well before Midsommar. Barry Pepper’s villainous role also feels so greasy and effortless. I’m not even mentioning Matt Damon and Josh Brolin’s killer performances. True Grit reminds us that a genre is only as tired as the storyteller behind the camera.
The Last Black Man in San Francisco (2019)
Equal parts visual poetry and love letter to underdogs, The Last Black Man in San Francisco is an absolute weird, wonderful motion picture. I mean, even the scenes where its protagonists wait for the bus are beautifully realized. There’s not so much of a plot as there are a dozen reminders that a sense of home is real and human beings are complicated. I’m hard-pressed to pinpoint a more amazing scene this decade than a short play that takes place at the tail end of the film. It’s a one-man show — in the spirit of Michel Gondry — that takes place in an attic. Mont tries to convince his best friend Jimmie that it’s time to move on from a house that was allegedly built by his grandfather. It’s heartbreaking to learn his family connection to the gorgeous house was falsified and fascinating to watch the friends navigate gentrification, poverty and the death of an antagonistic friend. I’m also still floored by a conversation where Jimmie reminds strangers on the bus that to actually hate something then you must love it, too. I think we could all stand to learn something from that.
What We Do In The Shadows (2014)
This comedy really should’ve sucked. By 2014, who in their right mind wasn’t vampired out? Well, this ain’t Twilight. Taika Waititi and Jemaine Clement co-wrote and co-directed this hilarious mockumentary following a house of vampire roommates who constantly bicker and struggle with modern life. The premise owes quite a bit to The Office and the work of Christopher Guest, but it also packs in some fantasy, goofy gore, and perfect cameos to give it a unique twist. I especially appreciate one scene where a bite to the neck goes so poorly that you’d expect Waititi’s vampire character would have a Robert Di Nero level of interest in painting houses. I can’t think of many other movies this funny which also displayed so much promise from its creators. As Waititi continues his impressive run in Hollywood, use What We Do In The Shadows as the standard to measure the rest of his work.
Silence (2016)
Martin Scorsese’s decades-long, multi-film wrestling match with spirituality comes to a head in this beautiful and oftentimes soul-crushing passion-project adaptation of Shūsaku Endō‘s novel of the same name set in 1639 Japan. This highly personal interrogation of faith and unquestioning service to religious institutions follows Jesuit priest Sebastião Rodrigues (Andrew Garfield) as his faith is tested, his rigid principles stripped away and his prayers of rescue and escape are met with nothing but silence. It’s among the most challenging films on matters of faith I’ve ever seen and it is undoubtedly one of legendary writer/director Scorsese’s most underseen and underappreciated films that still has me shaking in my core to this very day.
Before Midnight (2013)
No film has shaped my appreciation for the complex beauty of love and romance in the last decade more than Richard Linklater’s Before Trilogy starring Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy. If Before Sunrise(1995) examines the bittersweet whimsey of budding romance and Before Sunset (2004) reveals the disappointment of failed mid-life relationships, 2013’s Before Midnight is a raw exploration of the challenges facing lovers who seek to maintain the same fire and passion that brought them together, years later. Match Linklater’s down to earth approach to romantic drama with the fantastic chemistry displayed between the leads as they walk and talk their way through the stunning sights of the Greek Peloponnese peninsula and you have one of the best movies of the 2010s.
Cloud Atlas (2012)
The Wachowskis have never shied away from taking big bold swings, even when it means creating something so big and sprawling, to describe the film is nearly incomprehensible. Their hugely underrated and often forgotten adaptation of David Mitchell’s acclaimed novel, Cloud Atlas, is that movie.
Using one of the six storyline’s key MacGuffins, The Cloud Atlas Sextet(written by co-director Tom Tykwer), the interconnected stories span multiple centuries and syncopate more like an orchestra playing out the larger themes related to the bonds and commonalities that connect humanity together across time, space, race, religion, and technology than they do a traditional story. The scope and ambition of Cloud Atlas are as big and bold as you can get in the cinema, and for those willing to take the leap, the emotional payoffs and thought-provoking narrative will reward viewers with a moving and even challenging experience they’ll not soon forget.
Star Wars: The Last Jedi (2017)
Writer/director Rian Johnson’s highly divisive trip to a galaxy far far away isn’t just arguably the best Star Wars movie, it’s also an incredibly well-crafted film that pushes the envelope in terms of the types of stories that can be told in the sprawling Star Wars sandbox and also in the increasingly risk-averse studio blockbuster system. It’s a deeply thoughtful, deconstructive work that is also a rip-roaringly fun war in the stars with some of the biggest surprises, most satisfying character stories, and best space battles and action set pieces of the 2010s.
In a decade when populist movements and distrust in the privileged elite have grown tremendously and the culture at large has strived to be more inclusive, The Last Jedi offers an answer–the power of the force isn’t limited to those who come from privileged bloodlines, but rather the force belongs to everyone who has the will to use it. Love it or hate it, that’s a timeless theme I expect we’ll be revisiting in the decades to come.
Mad Max: Fury Road (2015)
You’ve read this far so it’s no secret that Max fans are in good company here. In the 80s, there was Terminator, the 90s, The Matrix, and now in the 2010’s we have another iconic sci-fi action blockbuster that will almost certainly define this decade in the rearview mirror, Mad Max: Fury Road. Everything from the film’s breathtaking stunts and art direction, to its chase sequences edited to perfection, to its themes examining late-stage capitalism, toxic masculinity, and the anxieties and looming threat of environmental disaster, are all flawlessly executed. It’s a masterpiece and one of those “lightning in a bottle” moments of studio filmmaking we may never see again.
PS–My #5 spot was a 7-way tie.
Don’t forget to read part one featuring picks from Oklahoma filmmakers and join us again on Monday in part three of The Cinematropolis four-part series when we’ll speak with the leading members of Oklahoma’s deadCenter Film Festival team about their most beloved films of the 2010s.
