NYT 100 Best Films List: My Personal Top 10 Movies That Defined Cinema Since 2000 + A FilmStack Challenge

Let's hear it for film!

Last week, the New York Times released a fun interactive package where they unveiled selections for the 100 best movies released from 2000 to now, as voted by 500 actors, directors, and other Hollywood notables. Of the 100 selected films, I've seen 80. The voters selected Bong Joon-ho's Parasite (2019) for the top spot. As the world plunges further into economic inequality and the rich get richer, it feels like an apt cinematic choice to define the century so far.

There is warranted criticism of the list having recency bias and being too US-centric. I think films like Mati Diop's Dahomey (2024), Andrew Dosunmu's Mother of George (2013), and Raven Jackson's All Dirt Roads Taste of Salt (2023) deserved inclusion. All three push the boundaries of film as an art form in different ways. Dahomey as a documentary, about the return of 26 royal treasures from France to Benin, feels under-discussed—the artifacts being given a literal voice at the beginning and the lively discussion on repatriation between students and citizens at the end is brilliantly edited! Mother of George was a visual revelation when it debuted; Bradford Young's cinematography renders everyone's deep, rich skin so beautifully—a masterclass in light and color. Shot on 35mm film by cinematographer Jomo Fray (Nickel Boys), All Dirt Roads is a visual exploration of lyrical storytelling that dives into ancestral memory of the South.

My personal picks, I edited this list from when I first shared it here on Substack— I swapped out Girl with a Dragon Tattoo for The Dreamers.

Here are my picks, and at first glance it seems like I don't like a lot of movies released in the 2020s—but 10 is a tough number to narrow down to. While these picks feature strong and memorable visuals that were seminal at the time of their release, plus really incredible usage of music, the driving factor behind my decision-making was a more emotional one that dove deep into some core memories. A lot of the films on my list I either own a physical copy of or I've watched over three or four times. Let's get into them!

The Dreamers (2004) & Moulin Rouge! (2001)

My picks take you on a global tour—let's start off in Paris!

Louis Garrel, Eva Green and Michael Pitt in The Dreamers

If there was ever a film about people who LOVE, adore, and worship film, it's The Dreamers by Bernardo Bertolucci, set against the tumultuous political landscape of 1968 Paris and starring Eva Green (Isabelle), Louis Garrel (Théo), and Michael Pitt (Matthew).

The three leads bond over their love for film and spend days debating film, poetry, and politics while engaging in erotic games and lovemaking. Théo and Isabelle are siblings with a pretty open and liberal attitude towards being naked together, and they each try to seduce the American student Matthew in their own way.

Per Wikipedia, Bertolucci added clips from his favorite classic films during pre-production, as this wasn't a detail written into the original script. It did inspire me to watch A Band Apart (1964) and Breathless (1960), both of which are referenced in it.

I saw this film in college, and it stuck with me for a long time. It has the type of heat that you don't find in a lot of films today—unapologetically erotic, it is a bodacious ode to cinema, romance, and protest!

When I first watched it, I was enthralled by all the eroticism, and the soundtrack is incredible. Michael Pitt does a decent cover of Jimi Hendrix's "Hey Joe." One recurring motif you'll find in my picks is the usage of music and strong soundtracks. Jimi Hendrix's "Third Stone from the Sun" plunges me right back into the world of this film without even having a frame playing in front of me.

While there are a lot of great scores out there, I find that many contemporary films just don't engage as deeply with music as films did in the 2000s. The soundtracks were thoughtfully curated and enhanced the storytelling and world-building.

Speaking of which, Moulin Rouge! is one of my all-time favorite musicals. I know every song by heart and still melt whenever I hear "Your Song." Like Satine (Nicole Kidman), I also fell in love with Ewan McGregor. Actually, I had a long streak watching his films in this era—Velvet Goldmine (1998) is another absolute favorite musical starring him, Christian Bale, and Jonathan Rhys Meyers.

Anyway, this film is like a warm hug; it's very comforting to watch despite the tragic ending. In this one, you totally understand why Satine chooses the broke poet over the creepy rich guy (see, this story gets that rich guys aren't always a catch!). It's so romantic, and Nicole Kidman and Ewan have incredible chemistry—she looks so beautiful in this film. The way the songs are written to move the plot forward and the medley of contemporary songs with classic music is brilliant. The "Like a Virgin" musical number is so funny! I actually saw the play on Broadway with Aaron Tveit (who has incredible pipes), but it wasn't the same. There are new songs in that version that didn't hit the same for me. I have this soundtrack memorized, and every beat of the scenes plays in my head whenever I listen to the songs. Few contemporary musicals have been able to capture the magic of this film—even director Baz Luhrmann (Elvis, The Great Gatsby) himself hasn't topped himself!

I think what directors used to do with music and strong soundtracks has fallen by the wayside. The only contemporary director who's done it well recently was Ryan Coogler with Black Panther and Sinners.

Amores Perros (2001), City of God (2003), Pan's Labyrinth (2006), Frida (2002)

Now let's travel to South America. I grew up in Venezuela and speak Spanish fluently, so I was all about Latin films in this era since I had just moved to America in 2000. The Three Amigos (Alfonso Cuarón, Alejandro González Iñárritu, and Guillermo del Toro) were also an emerging force at the time. I also really liked Walter Salles' The Motorcycle Diaries. I didn't include Y Tu Mamá También on this list, but it's also another top-20 favorite that I've seen many times and own a copy of. I also really loved Gael García Bernal, who starred in both, and I would watch anything with him in it.

The triptych narrative structure of Amores Perros was quite something to behold at the time—it contains three distinct stories connected by a car crash in Mexico City. Life’s. a bitch and tragic as fuck, this film isn’t for the faint of heart. But the SOUNDTRACK! This era of music coming out of Mexico, Argentina, and Colombia was so good, such cool rock and hip-hop. This film and the soundtrack made me feel connected to South America as I was still processing the culture shock of moving to North America.

City of God is just... I rewatched it a year ago and I was like, there's no way this movie would have been made today, but it's a stunning film—very heartbreaking too. Fantastic acting and cinematography. The scene where the little kid is asked to kill another is heartbreaking every single time! They recently made a TV series that follows a lot of the same characters who survived in the film, and it's streaming on HBO Max.

Pan's Labyrinth—I rewatched it less than a year ago, and it hit pretty hard in terms of relevance. You have this little girl living through Franco's fascist reign in Spain, and the escapist fantasy element that emerges once she moves to the countryside to live with her mother and her new husband is some beautiful magical realism storytelling. I also really like del Toro's Crimson Peak (2015), which I think is supremely underrated and one of the best gothic romances ever. I also quite enjoyed Nightmare Alley (2021).

Although Frida wasn't directed by a Latin filmmaker, it features Mexican cinematographer Rodrigo Prieto (who also worked on Amores Perros). Directed by Julie Taymor, it's a biopic of surrealist painter Frida Kahlo. This film made me discover what a cinematographer was. I was like, how does this film look like this? It's so magical. How do her paintings come to life like that? I was completely entranced by the visuals. It's a beautiful example of how one art form can inspire another and how bringing a static painting to life through the moving image can be awe-inspiring.

Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2000), Kill Bill: Vol. 1 (2003), Train to Busan (2016)

We're moving on to Asia, although only two out of three of these are directed by Asian filmmakers. Tarantino's Kill Bill has a major set piece taking place in Japan and was deeply inspired by Japanese and Chinese cinema.

Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon—I mean, what do you even say about Ang Lee's masterpiece that hasn't been said already? That one action sequence (linked above), set to an incredible drum beat, where Michelle Yeoh and Zhang Ziyi's character fight after the latter has stolen a sword from the compound they're staying at, is never not absolutely thrilling to watch. This film is action-packed and deeply romantic—I'd say the level of yearning in it is as deep as In the Mood for Love. I miss films like this that really activated the imagination and made you fantasize about being able to fly and fight like they do. And part of the plot is exactly about that—Ziyi's character dreams of being one of the mythical warriors like Michelle Yeoh's character.

Kill Bill taps into that same dreamy and fantasy element. The animated sequence? Amazing! Tarantino tapped into every geeky thing that I loved with this movie because I too, like him, was obsessed with Japan. I remember seeing this in theaters, being obsessed with the music, and loving the cameo of Chiaki Kuriyama, which was such a nice Easter egg for those of us who loved Battle Royale (2000). This is a movie by a geek for geeks, and I love it. During this era, Tarantino helped introduce American audiences to the work of Takashi Miike (Audition, Ichi the Killer).

This film was also released during a time when I was heavily into Japanese rock music, and I'd be remiss not to mention Japanese superstar rocker Hotei's incredible track "Battle Without Honor or Humanity" which was used to introduce O-Ren Ishii and the Crazy 88s. There are a lot of cool sound design elements in this film, including the use of Quincy Jones's "Ironside" to denote when The Bride was feeling especially vengeful and angry. The culminating fight between The Bride and O-Ren set to the amazing "Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood,” by Santa Esmeralda is another standout moment.

Train to Busan might be the only horror movie that's ever made me cry. The depth of emotion you feel while watching this film is unlike any other in the genre. With this film, Western audiences were introduced to Gong Yoo, who plays Seok-woo, a workaholic fund manager and father of Su-an, and Ma Dong-seok as Yoon Sang-hwa, husband of Seong-kyeong. It's extremely memorable and riveting. The central father/daughter and husband/pregnant wife storylines really get you to care very quickly about these people, and you're genuinely devastated when they perish. So heartbreaking! Zombie movies are usually pretty entertaining, but this one makes you feel.

American Psycho (2000)

We end our trip here in America with a movie that's perhaps perfectly representative of it—consumerist, capitalist, and status-obsessed. The movie is bloody, no doubt, but I love how darkly funny Mary Harron's adaptation of Bret Easton Ellis's novel is. This was the only film I rewatched over the weekend as I wrote this piece, and I had forgotten how meme-able and quotable it was—it was endlessly referenced in GIFs back in the 2010s. It's actually pretty visually iconic in that way; so many frames became macros... remember that term? We used that before memes.

Now in the 2020s, Patrick Bateman's morning routine is often alluded to in many a Gen Z influencer's product placement-filled morning routine. Although the novel and film were commenting on yuppies in the '80s, nowadays it feels like everyone has the same weird status aspirations as Patrick, and it all plays out on TikTok. Bateman's unreliable narration and his desire to fit in despite feeling like an empty shell of a person is fascinating to consider when you look at how homogenous online culture has made the influencer class. Patrick does and says things to impress the other high-status men around him, and yet they still think he's lame.

Also, I love this movie because I think it started my love affair with female filmmakers making weird sicko shit. Coralie Fargeat would later reference the scene where Patrick runs down the hallway naked and covered in blood in her 2016 debut film Revenge.

This Month’s FilmStack Challenge

There's a growing community here on Substack of people who are creating and developing new ways of making and engaging with film, the business of filmmaking, exhibition, and distribution.

Ted Hope launched the concept of a monthly FilmStack Challenge as a way for film writers and enthusiasts across Substack to collaborate on solutions for cinema's future. See Challenge #1 and Challenge #2 here. Last month

Sophie

built upon her concept of a Cultural Gym for Challenge #3.

The concept is simple: writers, like you, respond to the monthly prompt on their own newsletters, creating a decentralized brainstorming session. You can participate by posting on your own Substack, in the comments here, or anywhere else (just link back so others can find all the responses).

For this month's challenge, I've been thinking a lot about sound in film.

For this challenge, you can choose to share either your favorite needle drops, composers, themes, monologues, usage of voice-over narration, or directors who use soundtracks to further their storytelling. Expand upon how these key moments of sound usage helped to shape a scene or contributed to the emotions you had while watching it.

It takes many departments to render the final form of a film. For my challenge, I want to focus on the sound department. There are three basic types of sound in cinema: dialogue (speech, voice-over narration), effects, and music. This challenge is designed to get you to think about an element in film that is invisible—but sound shapes the image as much as the image shapes sound.¹ Without sound, movies lose much of their emotional impact. It shapes a film in subtle and almost subliminal ways that have a marked effect on how a viewer interprets the image they're seeing.

As you can see from my NYT best-of picks, music plays a huge role in how connected I felt to those films. But the one film that really put this into perspective for me was 2001: A Space Odyssey. I watched it for the first time a few weeks ago, and of course it is incredible, but a few key moments seared themselves into my brain. I haven't stopped thinking about the sound of the actor's ragged breathing and how it heightened the tension in the scene where he attempts to dismantle HAL 9000. The other moment I loved was those long takes of the ship exteriors with extended use of classical music—it invited the audience to breathe and take a moment to be in awe of what they were seeing, including the pioneering special effects. This technique was later used in Ghost in the Shell (1995) to similarly incredible effect, spotlighting the film's incredible score.

Contemporarily Sinners, 28 Years Later and F1: The Movie all feature incredible sound design. The trailers for 28 Years Later and F1 both featured exciting usage of sound mixing and the Boots poem will live in your brain after watching the film. Here Danny Boyle talks about how the poem came to be included.

Anyway I’m excited to see and HEAR your picks for this month’s challenge! Sound off in the comments or share your own post and tag me so I can read them.

1. Movies and Meaning. Page 215