75. Eden (Hansen-Løve, 2014)
Lovely, humane EDM epic that beautifully accumulates a tough, deeply felt connection to its characters and music. The best dance/end credits sequence since Beau Travail.
74. The Homesman (Jones, 2014)
In terms of directors who created fresh angles on the neo-western genre, Tommy Lee Jones should be up there with the Coens and P.T. Anderson. Dense, slantwise, and bravely rough-at-the edges when it could easily aim for something less complicated.
73. How I Ended This Summer (Popogrebsky, 2010)
A chillier, and even more remote Lighthouse, where a panic-stricken, college-aged fuck-up is circled by his taciturn, easily frustrated superior. Acute and unusual sense of tension and rhythm. Dobrygin!
72. A Star is Born (Cooper, 2018)
Bradley Cooper gives a performance for the ages in an already impressive career as an actor, but an under-praised asset to the success of this version of A Star is Born is his ability behind the camera. Displays such a rich perception to the emotion of a given scene, allowing the film's peaks to play so persuasively. Also deploys the soundtrack to perfection.
71. A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood (Heller, 2019)
Endearingly embodies the spirit of Fred Rogers while genuinely wrestling with the idea of his cultural and personal impact in the real world. Mature and artistically tricky in its approach to aloofness, anger, idioms, and human bonds. Hanks's final piano ballad still lingers.
70. Capernaum (Labaki, 2018)
Another strong contender for Best Child Performance of the Decade. A tough watch that inspires debate about tastefulness and exploitation. All I can say is that the authenticity of Zain's raw distress fully pulls through for me and anchors the narrative and political framework of the movie. I never felt like Nadine Labaki was shaping her observations around western sensibilities, instead revealing a tapestry of unnerving events and circumstances that refuse to pigeonhole its audience into one way of viewing it.
69. Creed (Coogler, 2015)
A revamp for a new generation that feels emotionally honest to the project its attempting and the conversation its having about busting out from underneath the mythic shadows of a bloodline while working in tandem with it. Michael B. Jordan deserved everything that awards season.
68. Selma (DuVernay, 2014)
Taps into the communal, ground-level efforts of the civil rights movement, giving this story an inclusive, panoramic identity of its own. Achieves this while maintaining a balanced and thoughtful portrait of King's larger-than-life influence.
67. Tully (Reitman, 2018)
People got so hung up in their feelings about the "twist" that occurs in the last act that they neglected to actually engage with the movie's goals. Jason Reitman and Diablo Cody continue to do their best work together, feeding into each other's strengths and producing unusual stories about multifaceted women.
66. The Salesman (Farhadi, 2016)
Prismatic on human behavior, adept on life to stage meta parallels, and predictably gut-wrenching about personal trauma. Long live Iranian cinema.
65. Atomic Blonde (Leitch, 2017)
A deep-dive into genre pleasure, star-serving action vehicle, savvy craft showcase, and paranoid, identity-tangled spy dynamics. Also a fun and inspired take on the comic book aesthetic that reads as fully cinematic.
64. Leave No Trace (Granik, 2018)
Warm, generous, and tinged with hope where Winter's Bone (another decade highlight just outside the list) is bleak and unrelenting. Debra Granik is so astute at observing underexplored communities without coming off as exploitative.
63. Toy Story 3 (Unkrich, 2010)Wrapped the series up perfectly before the redundant sequel came along last summer, but that doesn't take away from the sheer creativity of its scene construction, colorful new additions to the cast, and the persuasive emotional undercurrents.
62. Melancholia (von Trier, 2011)
A surprising juxtaposition to Toy Story 3, yes, but not an inappropriate one. Two different visions of confronting imminent disaster amid personal despair. Lars von Trier unfortunately never managed to capitalize on the heights he reached at the start of the decade, but his blistering bicameral allegory of depression is incredibly special.
61. First Reformed (Schrader, 2017)
"Can God forgive us for what we've done to this world?" I certainly wouldn't, especially after the events of the Australian wildfires that are still raging as I type this, and are a result of man-made climate change. Director/screenwriter Paul Schrader boldly grapples with this question and how it yields both large-scale and hopelessly microscopic implications about our inability to grasp God's will and prevent global catastrophe.
60. The Look of Silence (Oppenheimer, 2014)
Maybe less audacious than The Act of Killing (we'll get to it), but what it lacks in formal audacity it gains in its heroic and incisive aims.
59. Looper (Johnson, 2012)
I'm a fan of Rian Johnson's Star Wars movie, but I'm secretly hoping he doesn't do a standalone trilogy so that he can continue to direct his own singular ideas. This one in particular is such a crafty feat of bold conception and thrilling execution, with ingenious feel for structure, actors, and mise en scène. AND it's entertaining.
58. The Ornithologist (Rodrigues, 2016)
A real trip, pitting queer and religious iconography against one another while elliptically binding them together in a steamy fuck-fest with Jesus.
57. The Diary of a Teenage Girl (Heller, 2015)
The most confident, uncompromising, and sexually bold directorial debut of the decade in my eyes. With all three of Heller's features appearing on this list, she has cemented herself as one of our best working directors, all in the span of just five years since her debut.
56. Elena (Zvyagintsev, 2011)
Not a wasted frame in its impeccably shaped running time, with each steadily revealing a piece to the puzzle of Elena's complex interior and exterior life.
55. Arrival (Villeneuve, 2016)
Still remember seeing this the day after the 2016 election and finding it resonant on the idea of global communication and harmony. Still feel that way, but I'm even more impressed by its own harmony it finds between form and content. The montage that shows Adams and co. grasping the language of the aliens definitely falters, but the ascent into the spaceship, the cutaways to Louise's dreams, and the communication sequences themselves are all examples of Denis Villeneuve's understanding of cinematic language.
54. The Fighter (Russell, 2010)
David O. Russell's direction exhibits a nimble, surprising move set that melds cohesively with contrasting acting styles from its peerless ensemble, a colorful range of tones, and tough-to-nail script beats that could easily flounder in different hands. A distinctive, funny, and heartwarming boxing film that gives every actor room to shine.
53. Edge of Tomorrow (Liman, 2014)
As smart, rounded, and brilliantly played as Looper, with an added sense of humor to set it apart. Carries out it's Groundhog Day-but-with-war conceit briskly, but works even better as a deconstruction of the Tom Cruise persona.
52. Frances Ha (Baumbach, 2012)
Marks Greta Gerwig's induction into the club of genius multi-hyphenates with her ace script and lead performance. Sharp observations and specificity in writing brought out by Baumbach's keen yet loose direction.
51. The Turin Horse (Tarr, 2011)
Concluding this half of the list the same way it started, with another final film from a master auteur that serves as a self-reflexive statement on their career. (Has virtually nothing else in common with The Wind Rises, but I still appreciate the bookend.) Less blunt than Melancholia as a portrait of the end of the world. Sometimes the apocalypse feels like an endless series of repetitions where the end seemingly never comes. Stark but beautiful.
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