The Royal Tenenbaums (2001)

I’ve gone through various waves with Wes Anderson over the years, where some of his movies impact me greatly while others leave me cold. But from the very beginning, the film that served as my introduction to his work, The Royal Tenenbaums, has remained a staple of my movie-watching life. The Tenenbaums were once a family of brilliant prodigies, each destined for greatness: Chas (Ben Stiller) was a financial whiz, Margot (Gwyneth Paltrow) a gifted playwright and Richie (Luke Wilson) a tennis champion. But years of dysfunction and estrangement have left them all adrift. So when their estranged father, the roguish and manipulative Royal Tenenbaum (Gene Hackman in one of his best performances), fakes a terminal illness to reconnect with his children and win back his ex-wife Etheline (Anjelica Huston), the once-great family reunites under one chaotic roof, reigniting old wounds and unresolved tensions. The Royal Tenenbaums is structured like a novel, complete with chapter headings and Alec Baldwin’s droll narration, reinforcing its storybook quality and giving it a literary weight that mirrors the Tenenbaums as they struggle to regain their integrity and attempt to heal.

Blue Valentine (2011)

The devastatingly honest portrait of love in Blue Valentine required true immersion, as was the case when the film’s two stars, Michelle Williams and Ryan Gosling, moved into a house together to become their characters, going as far as wearing a small set of clothes and living on a modest budge—and the result is astounding. Told through a nonlinear structure, the film chronicles the rise and fall of the relationship between Dean (Gosling) and Cindy (Williams), capturing both the intoxicating spark of their early romance and the painful unraveling of their marriage years later. Through intimate flashbacks and present-day struggles, the film contrasts the youthful passion and optimism that once brought them together with the deep-seated frustrations and emotional distance that now pulls them apart. Director Derek Cianfrance’s approach creates a cruel contrast: just as we see Dean and Cindy falling for each other, we are immediately reminded their love will not last. Unlike many romantic films that idealize love, Blue Valentine strips away all sentimentality, portraying a relationship that is messy, imperfect and often uncomfortable to watch.

Escape from New York (1981)

There is perhaps no antihero in the history of cinema as intoxicating as Snake Plissken. Blending Clint Eastwood’s quiet menace with a punk-rock nihilism, Kurt Russell’s iconic hardened-ex-soldier-turned-criminal is a man of few words, wearing an eyepatch and a permanent scowl, carrying himself with a detached coolness that makes him instantly memorable. In a dystopian future where Manhattan has been transformed into a maximum-security prison, the United States government faces a crisis when Air Force One crashes inside the city’s lawless ruins, leaving the President (Donald Pleasence) stranded. With time running out and no viable diplomatic solutions, authorities send in Snake to infiltrate the island and rescue the President in exchange for his own freedom. Navigating gangs, warlords and anarchy, Snake must rely on his skills and survival instincts to complete the mission before time runs out. Directed by John Carpenter, Escape from New York taps into the anxieties at the height of Cold War paranoia and urban decay fears, presenting a future where America’s own cities have become as dangerous as any foreign battlefield.

The Bridges of Madison County (1995)

The Bridges of Madison County is one of those movies that sort of blows your mind once you realize it exists. A quiet, intimate love story between Clint Eastwood and Meryl Streep? But it’s real, and it’s awesome—even if it’s sad. Set in 1965 Iowa, the film tells the poignant story of Francesca Johnson (Meryl Streep), an Italian-American housewife who encounters Robert Kincaid (Clint Eastwood), a National Geographic photographer visiting Madison County to capture its historic covered bridges. With her family away at the state fair, Francesca and Robert embark on a brief yet intense four-day affair that profoundly impacts both their lives. Streep delivers one of the finest performances of her career, embodying Francesca with a delicate balance of warmth, longing and quiet sorrow, while Eastwood surprises with his deeply sensitive and tender direction and performance, allowing the romance to unfold organically without ever feeling forced or sentimentalized. The film moves at a slow, deliberate pace, allowing the audience to fully immerse themselves in the beauty of Francesca and Robert’s short but life-changing connection.

A Fish Called Wanda (1988)

A movie like A Fish Called Wanda really makes you reflect on our current sad state of adult-focused comedy—it’s rare to encounter a modern film with such razor sharp dialogue, such perfectly timed set pieces, such effortless slapstick prowess. Luckily, we can just revisit this classic whenever we please. In this British-American heist comedy, a group of jewel thieves—including con artist Wanda Gershwitz (Jamie Lee Curtis), her lover Otto West (Kevin Kline), stuttering animal lover Ken Pile (Michael Palin) and gang leader George Thomason (Tom Georgeson)—pull off a major diamond robbery in London. Betrayals ensue as Wanda and Otto double-cross George, leading to a series of comedic mishaps as they attempt to locate the hidden loot. Every actor is absolutely perfect in this super-efficient romp, from Cleese’s perfect straight man amidst the chaos, to Curtis’ seductive, cunning femme fatale, to Palin’s stammering, animal-loving hitman whose assassination attempts go disastrously wrong. But Kline, who won an Oscar for his performanc, shines the most as Otto—an egotistical, dangerously incompetent sociopath who believes he’s the smartest man in the room…but is often the dumbest.

Buffalo ’66 (1998)

Vincent Gallo’s career has remained one of the most fascinating in Hollywood. After a prolific ‘90s career, his roles have become more and more scattered and selective. Even more alluring is his directorial career, as he’s only helmed four movies (one of which was never released, and has reportedly only been shown to friends and family). And two of those movies, The Brown Bunny and Buffalo ‘66, are unlike anything you’ve ever seen. The latter film centers on Billy Brown (Vincent Gallo), who was recently released from prison and returns to his hometown with a desperate need to impress his parents. To complete the illusion of success, he impulsively kidnaps a young tap dancer, Layla (Christina Ricci), and forces her to pose as his loving wife during a tense visit with his dysfunctional family. What begins as an unsettling, absurd scenario gradually reveals itself to be a strangely tender story of two broken people who find an unexpected form of solace in one another. Gallo’s signature, transfixing style eschews traditional Hollywood storytelling, allowing Buffalo ’66 to unfold at a slow, awkward, often uncomfortable pace that mirrors Billy’s own stunted emotional state.

The Lords of Salem (2013)

Rob Zombie’s aptitude as a director needn’t be defended at this point, with astonishingly beautiful and unmatchably savage movies like The Devil’s Rejects and Halloween II under his belt. Alas, his incredible filmmaking career continues to go under-appreciated, and that includes one of his best films: The Lords of Salem. The movie centers on radio DJ Heidi LaRoc (Sheri Moon Zombie), who receives a mysterious record from a band called “The Lords,” only to find that its eerie music triggers disturbing visions and a creeping sense of dread. As she plays the record on air, its influence spreads, awakening a centuries-old evil tied to the dark history of Salem, Mass. As Heidi’s grip on reality begins to dissolve, she becomes the unwilling pawn in a horrifying ritual orchestrated by an ancient coven of witches. Unlike his earlier, more chaotic and violent films (like House of 1000 Corpses), The Lords of Salem is methodically paced, allowing its horror to seep in rather than explode. Zombie embraces slow, creeping tension, often holding shots for longer than expected, forcing the audience to marinate in the film’s suffocating atmosphere.

Red River (1948)

If you’re looking for a classic film in the bunch leaving Amazon Prime this month, then look no further than Red River—a brutal, relentless portrayal of the American West from one of the best Western directors of all time, Howard Hawks. In the aftermath of the Civil War, the tough and uncompromising rancher Thomas Dunson (John Wayne) embarks on an ambitious cattle drive along the Chisholm Trail, aiming to establish a profitable route from Texas to Missouri. Alongside his adopted son, Matt Garth (Montgomery Clift), and a group of rugged cowboys, Dunson pushes his men and livestock to the limits, determined to see the journey through no matter the cost. However, as Dunson’s leadership grows increasingly tyrannical, Matt is forced to challenge him, leading to an intense power struggle on the open frontier. The film captures the sheer physical toll of the journey, with men battling not just the elements but each other, as fear and desperation set in. Unlike many Westerns of the era, which depict leadership as heroic and unquestioned, Red River questions the very nature of power: how much control is too much, and when does strength become tyranny?

Bohemian Rhapsody (2018)

The last movie for this list is one that, in my opinion, will please just about crowd; that offers a story of self-discovery and acceptance; that’s adorned with incredible, timeless rock music; that’s anchored by one oft he best biopic performances of all time. Chronicling the rise of Freddie Mercury (Rami Malek, who won an Academy Award for his portrayal) and the legendary rock band Queen, Bohemian Rhapsody follows their journey from small gigs to global stardom. As Mercury’s extraordinary talent and flamboyant persona propel the band to new heights, personal struggles and the pressures of fame begin to take their toll. The film explores the creation of Queen’s most iconic songs (“Bohemian Rhapsody”), culminating in their triumphant performance at Live Aid in 1985. Directed by Bryan Singer (with uncredited work by Dexter Fletcher), Bohemian Rhapsody offers a star-making performance by Malek, whose physical transformation—from his mannerisms to his vocal inflections to his legendary magnetic energy—makes him feel almost indistinguishable from the real Freddie.