To my grandmother, Judy Alice Hoffman (1942-2025)

My grandma once said, "In life, there are 'seasons' and 'reasons.'" A season is merely a period that helps you transition to another place. A reason represents your dreams—a longing for new opportunities and an appreciation for the beauty of the gift of life.

As I approach the end of my time at LaPorte High School, my grandmother’s words are fresh inside me. It has been a couple of months since she reunited with my Papaw and her Lord and Savior, and I deeply miss her wisdom; however, the lessons she instilled in me have allowed me to reflect on my experiences at LPHS.

High school is only a season in my life. I envision high school as a stage where young seeds develop into thriving sprouts–a place of growth where the roots of my identity have shaped me. Ever since I was a freshman, I have dreamed of walking out these doors and embarking on adulthood. High school has always felt like a temporary phase, just another season. While this perspective still stands, I've come to appreciate the memories and life lessons I gained during those four years, thanks to wonderful teachers and classmates. Here are the 10 great life lessons that inspired me to become the person I am today, that I hope future freshmen will take into consideration.

#1: Be yourself: You don’t have to become an actor and audition for the role of “Clique Teenager” in the local production of LPHS. Don’t create a personality to impress others because you will never impress others by being fake. Be your creative self. Stand out a little bit from the crowd. Embrace your talents and overall weirdness because you’re the only “you” here. No one can take your identity away from you.

#2: Grades don’t define you: You don’t have to have a 4.0 GPA and receive “A’s” on every homework assignment, quiz, test, and project available. A “B” is okay. I wish I knew that freshman year because I made myself sick fixating on that 4.0 GPA. Getting a ‘’B’’ once in a while on a report card doesn’t mean failure or define you. If you tried your hardest, that is all that counts.

#3: Don’t be a people pleaser: Impressing others is never great in high school. In my opinion, teenagers don’t care ¾ of the time and probably don’t spend hours at home wondering about you. Plus, many have short attention spans. If you want to be chosen for something, whether a place on the baseball team or in Show Choir, it isn’t worth it to get their utmost approval. The only person you need to impress is you.

#4: Be positive: Okay, that comes across as weird. Be positive! But, it is true. If you have a negative attitude, you will often perform poorly because you don’t have a positive self-image. High school can create challenging situations that will become stressful, but maintaining a positive attitude will make a stressful situation easier.

#5: Friends change: The friends from middle school will change. Self-interests, hobbies, opportunities, and identities will change and develop in high school. That means that the friends in middle school will grow apart from you because they share different interests. That is okay. High school will allow you to befriend upperclassmen in social circles. They don’t need to be from the same grade: you will have classes with people from different grades.

#6: Put yourself out there: Try something new. My mom always told me, “Don’t be a couch potato and a hermit, try something.” If it wasn’t for my mom, I wouldn’t have been on the Quiz Bowl team, which is one of my fondest memories. The high school experience isn’t just going to school for seven hours a day. Join a club or sport. Be active in your community. Meeting new people will help form new friendships and create more threads of your identity.

#7: Ask for help: Most teachers aren’t here to yell at you. They respect students who come into their classroom asking for help; it is part of their job. Email your teachers when absent for personal reasons or sickness. They will appreciate it because you had the integrity to ask for help. Grades and test anxiety will improve because you had the initiative to ask for help to grow your sprouts.

#8: Be prepared: Don't procrastinate. It's not healthy to wait until the last minute to pull an all-nighter on a project that you had two weeks to complete. Instead, create a schedule or routine that helps you stay consistent and maintain balance in your organizational skills.

#9 Don’t compete against others: You don’t have to compete with your classmates to score the highest on the upcoming exam. In my opinion, there is an 87% chance neither of you will prevail because you will make silly mistakes. The only person you need to compete against is yourself.

#10: Have fun: High school is a place to have fun. You only have four years left until you embark on adulthood. Go to a football game, and spend time with your friends. Relish your childhood while you can. These memories will stay with you long after high school ends, serving as a foundation for the journey ahead.

As I walk out of these doors into adulthood, I will always remember my season here at LPHS: my newspaper classes were where I became empowered to use my voice. My fun Calculus class, where I learned that ‘math can be fun,’ and my time in the music program helped me grow. I will try to come back and visit and remember the positivity my teachers instilled in me. This is the end of my journey, but another journey has begun.

Here it is—the top five, the ultimate selection from a list that encompasses everything from cult favorites and indie dramas to groundbreaking thrillers and epic masterpieces. These films are more than just my preferences; they are transformative pieces that have reshaped my view and comprehension of cinema. Each has impacted me emotionally, intellectually, and sometimes spiritually. They are not simply outstanding films; they embody personal truths, skillfully wrapped in film by artists who tapped into humanity's core and unveiled our existence's intricacies. Let’s dive in.

#5 – Airplane! (1980)

In quantifying a great comedy, one typically measures its success by how often it induces laughter; however, with Airplane!, you need a stopwatch. This movie serves as a relentless, breathless onslaught of humor, presenting a spectacular array of jokes, puns, visual gags, and absurd asides occurring approximately every seven seconds. Directed by the legendary Jim Abrahams and the Zucker brothers, Airplane! stands as a parody not only of 1950s and ‘70s disaster flicks—like Zero Hour! and Airport—but also represents a bold ambition to redefine comedic cinema entirely. It goes beyond mere spoofing; it reprograms the brain to anticipate punchlines in every corner.

Each moment in the film is meticulously crafted to disarm audiences with laughter. It's not merely that every line is funny, It’s that each one strives for a different kind of hilarity. From clever verbal wit epitomized in the line “Surely you can’t be serious,” to visual puns such as the deceptively literal “Mayo Clinic.” The film is filled with ridiculous background jokes like a news broadcast about a plane crash playing as the in-flight movie, and tonal clashes that defy logic in the most delightful of ways (imagine a plane leaving Chicago at night only to arrive in L.A.—still shrouded in darkness). Even the credits contain hidden jokes that sneak in gags like “Author of the novelization: Shirley, you jest.”

The characters, although portrayed as stock archetypes from melodrama, feature unforgettable portrayals, including the tortured war vet Ted Striker (Robert Hays), his lost love Elaine (Julie Hagerty), and the hilariously stone-faced crew, most notably the iconic Dr. Rumack, played by Leslie Nielsen. This is not a film driven by emotional arcs but rather one where each character serves as a vessel for escalating absurdity. Nielsen's legendary dry delivery has solidified his status as a titan of deadpan comedy, with his “Don’t call me Shirley” line becoming a cultural touchstone, delivered with sincerity amid utter lunacy.

The inclusion of jive-talking passengers cleverly parodies racial stereotypes and linguistic literalism; importantly, the dialect is subtitled as if it’s a foreign language film, treated earnestly rather than derisively. This clever subtlety, even amidst the film's crass humor, highlights the astute awareness that Airplane! possesses. The chaos never feels improvised; it's all intricately scripted, executed with the precision of a slapstick symphony.

In its unrelenting absurdity, Airplane! transcends the boundaries of conventional comedy. It is a time capsule of a filmmaking style that reveled in its uniqueness. While today's comedies often strive for relatability, Airplane! boldly aims for immortality, and it accomplishes that mission with every frame.

#4 – The Godfather (1972)

Defining The Godfather as merely a masterpiece feels like an underestimation. Francis Ford Coppola’s magnum opus does not merely elevate gangster cinema; it transforms it into a complex Shakespearean tragedy, richly layered with themes of family loyalty, power dynamics, corruption, and the slow yet inexorable decay that occurs when violence becomes tradition.

The film's structure is grand yet intimate, operating like a finely-tuned symphony of narrative arcs. It chronicles the life of the Corleone family, led by the formidable Don Vito Corleone (Marlon Brando, in a performance that has redefined cinematic acting), as power gradually transitions to his youngest son, Michael (Al Pacino). Brando's portrayal—a blend of mumbling restraint, perfectly captures the essence of a dying era of power. He radiates an aura that haunts every scene, not through sheer loudness but a quiet intensity. When he whispers a threat, the world cannot help but listen.

Conversely, Pacino’s Michael begins as an outsider—the prodigal son devoid of the family’s violent legacy. Yet, as the narrative unfolds, he inexorably succumbs to the insidious gravitational pull of the family business. By the film’s climactic end, he emerges not merely as the head of the Corleones but transformed into a figure embodying cold, ruthless authority. The film's concluding shot—Michael’s eyes, devoid of warmth, as the door closes on Kay's face—does more than signal an ending; it serves as a symbolic funeral for innocence, a poignant and haunting farewell.

One of the film’s most electrifying sequences is the restaurant shootout, where Michael retrieves a hidden gun from the bathroom, emerging with it to an agonizing moment of hesitation. The sound drops out; the ambient sounds of the subway rumble ominously in the background. Viewers find themselves ensnared in his indecision, making the eventual shot far less cathartic and far more tragic. The old Michael is irrevocably lost; the Don is born in his place.

In essence, The Godfather isn’t merely a story about a crime family—it’s an intricate exploration of power, family, and the heavy burdens of legacy. It stands as a towering achievement in film history, forever altering the landscape of cinema and leaving an indelible mark on those who watch it.

#3 – Everything Everywhere All at Once (2022)

There are films that defy classification, and then there’s Everything Everywhere All at Once—a film that obliterates genre walls entirely. Directed by Daniel Kwan and Daniel Scheinert, this multiversal odyssey is a chaotic symphony of absurdity and aching humanity. It’s a kinetic and kaleidoscopic film that it feels like it’s held together by emotional gravity alone. And it is. At its core, amidst all the googly eyes, sentient bagels, kung fu, and fractured timelines, lies something achingly simple: a mother trying to reconnect with her daughter.

Michelle Yeoh gives the performance of a lifetime as Evelyn Wang, a weary laundromat owner besieged by bills, disappointment, and familial tension. Evelyn is introduced as a woman drowning in the mundanes of life—taxes, broken appliances, a failing marriage, and a strained relationship with her queer daughter, Joy. What begins as a mundane IRS audit appointment becomes the launching point for a multiverse-hopping journey where Evelyn must tap into versions of herself across alternate realities to stop an existential threat: her own daughter, now transformed into the all-powerful, nihilistic Jobu Tupaki.

Stephanie Hsu delivers an astonishing performance in this dual role. As Joy, she is vulnerable, bitter, and yearning for acceptance. As Jobu, she is flamboyant, terrifying, and godlike, creating and destroying entire universes in the same breath. Her expressions—deadpan yet wounded, gleeful yet hollow—express a generation’s disillusionment. Her final confrontation with Evelyn isn’t a fight scene—it’s a philosophical debate about whether love can matter in an infinite, meaningless cosmos. And when Jobu admits that the one moment of connection she had—that sliver of sincerity—was with her mother? That’s when the film transcends.

Ke Huy Quan’s return to acting as Waymond Wang is nothing short of miraculous. He is the gentle whisper in a film filled with noise and spectacle. His Waymond exists across multiverses: as a kind-hearted, bumbling husband, a suave romantic in a Wong Kar-Wai-inspired timeline, and most importantly, as the quiet hero who believes that kindness is the answer to chaos.

Every creative decision here is daring: the rapid editing, the absurd costumes, the martial arts choreography that incorporates fanny packs and hot dog fingers. But it’s all in service of the emotional journey. The Daniels know that intentional love becomes revolutionary in a world of infinite possibilities. Evelyn becomes powerful not when she dominates her enemies but when she understands them.

And the ending—where Evelyn finally hugs Joy and chooses to stay present in the most boring timeline of all, the one with laundry and taxes—is the perfect thesis. In the vast chaos of everything, this moment, here, now, with the people we love, is enough.

#2 – Get Out (2017)

When Get Out premiered in 2017, it didn’t just change horror—it realigned the cultural conversation around it. Jordan Peele’s directorial debut is a rare thing: a horror film that is as socially incisive as it is viscerally terrifying. It manages to dissect modern racis, and deliver haunting genre thrills—all while never losing its narrative propulsion. Get Out is not merely timely. It is timeless.

Daniel Kaluuya stars as Chris Washington, a quiet, observant photographer who is meeting his white girlfriend’s parents for the first time. What begins as a series of awkward, racially loaded encounters soon reveals itself as something much more sinister. Peele builds tension with Hitchcockian precision, embedding subtle horror in patriarch (played by Bradley Whitford passive-aggressive compliments (“I would have voted for Obama a third time”).

The genius of the film is in its slow unraveling. Peele’s script trusts the audience to feel the discomfort before they understand the threat. Chris initial sense of alienation—his growing unease with the overly friendly, Stepford-like behavior of the Armitage family and their guests—mirrors the experience of being othered in spaces that claim to be “woke.”

And then there’s Georgina. Betty Gabriel’s performance is one of the most haunting in any horror film. In a single scene—Chris confronting her about unplugging his phone—she gives a performance of fractured identities in one face. Her teary smile, forced and trembling, as she repeats “no no no no no” is a horror unto itself. It’s not just fear. It’s the cry of someone trapped within her own body.

The “Sunken Place,” where Chris’s consciousness is banished during hypnosis, is a terrifyingly effective metaphor. He is reduced to a spectator in his own life, screaming silently while watching from afar—a perfect example of systemic dehumanization.

The final act, where the Armitages’ secret is revealed—a grotesque brain transplantation operation that turns Black bodies into vessels for white minds—is as on-the-nose as it is thematically brilliant. It forces the audience to confront the idea that liberal racism is not about malice but entitlement: the belief that admiration of Blackness entitles one to possession of it.

And yet, Get Out offers catharsis. Chris fights back. He escapes. He doesn’t become another victim. When Lil Rel Howery’s Rod, the comic-relief TSA agent, shows up in the final scene, it’s not just relief. It’s a reclamation of agency, and a wink at horror’s history of killing off Black characters first. Get Out didn’t just earn its standing ovation—it demanded it.

#1 – The Truman Show (1998)

The Truman Show is my favorite film, not just because it’s brilliant but because it taught me how to look at the world. Directed by Peter Weir and starring Jim Carrey in a performance that redefined his capabilities, this film is a lesson on authenticity, free will, surveillance, and the boundaries between performance and reality. And in 2025, it feels more relevant than ever.

Truman Burbank is the first baby ever legally adopted by a corporation. From birth to adulthood, his entire life has been broadcast to the world 24/7, live, as the star of a reality show he doesn’t know he’s in. The people around him—his wife, his best friend, his coworkers—are all actors. His town, Seahaven, is a giant soundstage, and his life is a lie.

Jim Carrey’s performance is miraculous. As Truman, he brings vulnerability, hope, confusion, and growing terror to a role that could easily have been played for farce. His facial expressions in the quiet moments—the moment he sees his father, presumed dead, on a park bench; the moment he notices a light fall from the sky—capture the human thirst for truth like few films ever have.

Then there’s Sylvia, the woman who tried to break Truman out of his artificial world. Their brief connection—cut short by producers, covered up by lies—is one of the only real moments in her life. It’s devastating, knowing she spends the rest of the show’s runtime on the outside, desperately watching, waiting for him to realize the truth. She isn’t just Truman’s love interest. She is the voice of the audience. She is the soul of the film.

Ed Harris’s Christof, the godlike producer, believes he’s giving Truman a better life, free of pain. But in truth, he’s denying him choice. Christof creates a utopia that erases Truman’s agency. He is not evil. That’s what makes him terrifying.

The final act of The Truman Show is one of the most powerful sequences I’ve ever seen. Truman, now aware, sets sail across the artificial ocean, surviving a storm designed to kill him. And then, he reaches the edge. A painted sky. A staircase. A door. The world ends not with fire or apocalypse but with a soundstage wall.

When Truman turns to the camera, bows, and says, “In case I don’t see ya: good afternoon, good evening, and good night,” it is not just a farewell. It’s an act of defiance, of becoming, of stepping into the unknown and choosing authenticity, no matter how terrifying. We don’t know what happened to Truman after he exited. The most alarming part is that the corporate television audience views this moment as the conclusion of their favorite program, not celebrating Truman's liberation but enjoying a satisfying resolution to their beloved show's final episode.

The Truman Show is not just a film. It’s a mirror. It asks us: Are you awake? Are you free? Are you living your life—or performing it?

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I can hear the popcorn popping. We’ve made it to the Big Ten! It’s the final countdown. Over the past few columns, I have shared my top 50 films of all time, ranging from classic Spielberg to indie rom-coms. These next lists are important because we are almost at the unveiling of my greatest film of all time. This list will cover films ranked #10 to #6, while the following list will showcase my #5 and #4 films. The final three movies will have their own individual columns, so I can highlight their achievements in making cinema history. It’s going to be an exciting ride. Let’s get started!

#10 Pleasantville (1998)

I have a profound admiration for films that convey deep meanings and offer insights that transcend their surface narratives, and Pleasantville is a striking example of this artistic achievement. The film follows two teenage siblings from the 1990s, portrayed by Reese Witherspoon and Tobey Maguire, who find themselves inexplicably transported into their favorite black-and-white sitcom from the 1950s, aptly titled “Pleasantville.

Once they enter this nostalgic realm, Witherspoon and Maguire become the characters of a quaint yet rigidly structured show, representing the two teenage children of the town's conventional parents, played by Joan Allen and William H. Macy. This fictional television world operates under the illusion that it is simply a sitcom, oblivious to the reality that it exists within the confines of a broadcast. You might expect the narrative to have the teens seeking a path back to their contemporary reality; however, director Gary Ross deftly avoids these conventional tropes and instead crafts a narrative that pays homage to the very essence of 1950s television.

The world of “Pleasantville” is meticulously designed to reflect the era's television aesthetics, filled with the iconic tropes of innocent romance, separate twin beds, and the overall illusion of a perfect suburban existence. In this carefully constructed universe, residents are bound by the rules of their scripted lives—no one leaves the town, as they are confined to the narrative of their show. Rather than disclosing their true identities, Maguire and Witherspoon’s characters take on the transformative role of guiding the townsfolk toward a deeper understanding of their existence, prompting them to awaken from their superficial lives.

Initially, the characters embody traditional 1950s sitcom stereotypes, each defined by their distinctive catchphrases and predictable roles. As the storyline unfolds, the siblings subtly introduce the inhabitants of Pleasantville to the complexities of real life, catalyzing a gradual shift from their monochrome existence into a vibrant world. The characters in the story begin to "awaken" as the empty books in the library fill up. Meanwhile, the local high school basketball team, which usually wins every game in typical sitcom fashion, starts to lose. The teenagers then embark on a journey to explore the complexities of sexuality and dating, moving beyond the superficial portrayals often seen in sitcoms.

This shift is visually represented as the world around them transforms from monochrome to vibrant color—a powerful reflection of the technological revolution in television during the early 1970s, when color broadcasting became the norm. Central to this evolution is the sitcom matriarch. Joan Allen’s performance captures the essence of a woman struggling against the confines of traditional gender roles. Her journey toward independence resonates emotionally and serves as a critical lens through which we examine societal expectations.

However, this burgeoning freedom is met with resistance from segments of the uncolored community who vehemently oppose the changes. They attempt to reinstate segregation, advocating for the ban of "colored" individuals from public spaces and events, dividing them into "uncolored" and "colored" categories. This growing tension is marked by acts of vandalism against stores that have embraced this newfound vibrancy, reflecting rising hate crimes and drawing unsettling parallels to the Jim Crow era laws that inflicted deep societal divides.

The film’s climax is a breathtaking crescendo of conflict and resolution, culminating in a deeply moving finale where Maguire delivers a compelling performance that ties together the film's thematic threads. This narrative evolution not only challenges the outdated norms of the community but also serves as a poignant commentary on the imperative of personal autonomy and the quest for authentic identity amidst a landscape often dominated by conformity and superficial idealization. Ultimately, the film encapsulates the transformative journey toward self-discovery and the liberation that arises from embracing one’s individuality within a repressive environment, leaving the audience with a resonant sense of hope and empowerment.

#9 Contagion (2011)

Steven Soderbergh’s Contagion, a gripping portrayal of a worldwide pandemic, resonates deeply, especially considering our collective experience during the COVID-19 crisis. We remember the stay-at-home lockdowns, social distancing, excessive mask-wearing, food shortages, lootings and riots, daily increases in hospital deaths, and asymptomatic positives. We can say we survived it, but its effects are still evident today.

Contagion takes it up 10 notches. The film illustrates the rapid transmission of a novel virus, mirroring the real-life scenarios we witnessed. It adeptly captures the escalating panic as communities grapple with an unseen threat, highlighting the challenges of public health responses amidst fear and uncertainty. Watching the virus spread fast that claims countless lives makes Contagion the scariest, non-horror film, because it is something that we have lived.

Contagion unfolds through a non-linear narrative, skillfully weaving the story back to its origin with Gwyneth Paltrow portraying patient zero. As the plot progresses, it is revealed that her character contracted the deadly virus after consuming contaminated food at a restaurant in China. This contaminated meal stemmed from an infected bat, which had itself been exposed to toxic pesticides due to a local deforestation project. The film intricately connects these elements, highlighting the chain of events that led to the global outbreak.

Contagion has received significant acclaim from the scientific community for its realistic representation of a viral outbreak. Director Steven Soderbergh interviewed numerous scientific experts and public health officials to ensure that the film accurately captured the complexities of disease transmission and pandemic response. This meticulous research contributed to the film's authenticity and depth, making it not only engaging but also informative. It’s no surprise that the movie resonates so strongly with viewers and critics alike.

The film's script is intricately crafted, showcasing authentic characters that reflect the complexities of everyday life. The dialogue is nuanced and relatable, allowing viewers to connect deeply with the characters' journeys. Furthermore, the performances are truly groundbreaking, as the actors delve into their roles with remarkable depth and sincerity, bringing a vivid realism that leaves a lasting impression.

Some of the standout performances include Marion Cotillard, as a World Health Organization scientist working tirelessly to trace the origins of the virus, conveying the urgency and determination of health officials who are on the front lines, embodying the emotional weight of searching for answers amidst chaos.  Matt Damon delivers a poignant performance as a bereaved father trying to protect his daughter while coping with the loss of his wife and child to the virus. His struggle is heartfelt and relatable, providing a human face to the devastation wrought by the pandemic. Similarly, Kate Winslet captures the dedication of public health officials, portraying a character who sacrifices her safety for the greater good. Her genuine and earnest performance encapsulates the often-overlooked heroes in a crisis.

The film expertly weaves these characters' stories together, showcasing the diverse experiences of individuals during a global crisis. Through their struggles and resilience, we see reflections of real-life challenges faced during COVID-19, from isolation to the profound impact on communities. Ultimately, Contagion serves not only as a stark reminder of our vulnerabilities but also underscores the power of solidarity and the importance of scientific advancement in navigating global health threats. The performances elevate the narrative, making it a compelling and relevant exploration of a scenario that hits too close to home.

#8 Parasite (2019)

Bong Joon-ho’s visionary Parasite is a captivating and incisive examination of class disparity, wrapped in a genre-blending narrative that uniquely combines elements of dark comedy, thriller, and social commentary.

The film revolves around the impoverished Kim family, whose lives are a stark contrast to the opulent world of the affluent Park family. Living in a cramped, semi-basement apartment, the Kims struggle to survive in a society that has left them behind. Their fortunes begin to change when they concoct an intricate scheme to infiltrate the Parks' lives, posing as highly skilled professionals, each exploiting the others’ vulnerabilities in a quest for upward mobility. From the moment the Kims enter the Parks' luxurious home, the film juxtaposes their cunning, resourceful nature with the Parks' blissful ignorance of the struggles plaguing those less fortunate.

Bong deftly utilizes visual storytelling, employing carefully crafted cinematography to accentuate the contrasting environments, varying from the dark, claustrophobic space of the Kims' home to the expansive, sun-drenched aesthetic of the Parks’ residence that symbolizes wealth and privilege. This visual disparity serves as a critical narrative device, emphasizing the stark inequalities that permeate South Korean society, as well as broader global contexts. As the plot thickens, the film escalates into a whirlwind of unexpected twists and mounting tension, highlighting the lengths individuals will go to in their pursuit of a better life.

The characters are richly developed, with the Kims embodying both relatable ambition and moral ambiguity, while the Parks exude a superficial charm that masks their complicity in a flawed social structure. Song Kang-ho's portrayal of Kim Ki-taek, the patriarch of the Kim family, is particularly noteworthy, capturing a blend of desperation, cunning, and a yearning for dignity that resonates deeply with audiences.

Ultimately, Parasite transcends the boundaries of a typical family drama, offering a searing critique of capitalism and the pervasive nature of inequality. Its expertly woven narrative culminates in a shocking and unforgettable climax that forces viewers to confront the harsh realities of social hierarchy and the human condition. With its historic sweep at the Academy Awards, including Best Picture—the first non-English language film to achieve this feat—Parasite has not only solidified its place in cinematic history but has also sparked vital conversations about class struggle and moral responsibility, leaving an indelible mark on film lovers worldwide.

#7 Misery (1990)

Misery is the greatest adaptation of a Stephen King novel ever. Period. Rob Reiner’s psychological masterpieces blend elements of horror and suspense, serving as a great allegory of the celebrity fanfic obsession.

The film follows renowned author Paul Sheldon (James Caan), a bestselling author with romance novels centered around a character named Misery. The story kicks off when Paul is involved in a severe car accident during a snowstorm, leaving him severely injured. He is rescued by Annie Wilkes (Kathy Bates), a former nurse and his self-proclaimed "number one fan." Initially, Annie appears caring and nurturing, taking Paul into her isolated home to recover. However, as Paul begins to regain his strength, the true nature of Annie's obsession becomes alarmingly clear.

As the days turn into weeks, Paul discovers that Annie is not just a fan; she is a deeply disturbed individual who harbors extreme views about his work. When Paul reveals that he has killed off the character Misery in his latest novel, Annie's reaction is explosive and violent. In a twisted attempt to exert control and force Paul to rewrite the story to her liking, she imprisons him in her home. The psychological torment escalates as she employs both physical and mental manipulation, demanding he bring Misery back to life.

The film's tension is palpable, expertly crafted through a combination of atmospheric cinematography and haunting score, immersing viewers in Paul's terrifying predicament. Caan delivers a powerful performance, capturing Paul’s desperation and determination to escape while navigating the unpredictability of his captor, while Kathy Bates's portrayal of Annie Wilkes in "Misery" is nothing short of iconic, marking a pivotal moment in cinematic history.

Her transformation from a seemingly sweet and devoted caregiver into a chillingly malevolent force captures the audience's imagination, displaying remarkable range and depth. This haunting performance ultimately earned her the Academy Award for Best Actress, solidifying her status as one of the greats in film. One particularly unforgettable scene occurs in the dimly lit room after Annie discovers that her beloved character, Misery Chastain, is dead. In that moment of raw emotion, her delivery of the three-word phrase “You dirty bird” resonates with a haunting intensity that seems to encapsulate the depths of her despair and fury. It's a moment so powerful that it truly deserves multiple Oscars, leaving an indelible mark on viewers long after the credits roll.

 Misery delves deep into themes of obsession, creativity, and the dark side of fandom. It raises unsettling questions about the relationship between an artist and their audience, illustrating how admiration can morph into a dangerous fixation. The film's climax is both thrilling and tense, ultimately forcing Paul to confront not only Annie but also his own limitations as a creator. With its intricate character development and gripping narrative, Misery stands out as a timeless exploration of fear and power, making it a hallmark of both King’s literary legacy and the horror genre. The film leaves a lasting impact, reminding viewers of the fragility of freedom and the peril that lies in human obsession.

#6 Groundhog Day (1993)

If there’s one film that brilliantly melds existential philosophy with a heartwarming romantic comedy, it’s undoubtedly Groundhog Day. Directed by Harold Ramis, this beloved classic features Bill Murray as Phil Connors, a cynical weatherman sent to cover the annual Groundhog Day festivities in the quaint town of Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania. Little does Phil know that he is destined to relive the same day over and over again—a premise that becomes the canvas for profound exploration of time, self-discovery, and the human experience. From the outset, the film establishes Phil’s character as a self-absorbed and jaded individual, disconnected from the world around him.

Murray’s impeccable comedic timing and deadpan delivery allow viewers to both laugh at and empathize with Phil as he navigates through his day filled with predictably mundane events. However, when he awakens to find that he is trapped in a temporal loop, the narrative takes a surreal turn that transcends the typical romantic comedy formula. Initially, Phil approaches his predicament with a mix of amusement and rebellion. Relishing the freedom of an endless day, he indulges in hedonistic adventures, exploiting the knowledge that he will face no consequences for his actions.

Each morning, he greets the world with the same sarcastic flair, offering humorous interactions with the townsfolk, including the earnest and kind-hearted producer, Rita, portrayed by Andie MacDowell, and the offbeat local, Ned Ryerson, played by Stephen Tobey. As the days repeat, however, Phil’s initial delight turns to despair. The comedic scenarios begin to falter, revealing a deeper existential malaise. With each cycle, he engages with the same people, ensuring that their interactions, no matter how meaningful or trivial, hold an aura of inevitability. He struggles with feelings of isolation, as even his attempts to change the outcomes of his actions yield little satisfaction. It's a darkly humorous reflection on the monotony and futility of life when viewed through a cynical lens. Yet, this cyclical existence becomes a catalyst for transformation.

As Phil delves deeper into his repetitive reality, he shifts from self-interest to selflessness. He begins to absorb the essence of those around him, earnest in his attempts to improve their lives, be it through acts of kindness or mastering new skills, such as ice sculpting or piano playing. His evolution embodies the movie's central theme: the importance of embracing the present and the potential for personal growth. The pivotal moment occurs when Phil starts to seek true connection and love, awakening to the depth of his feelings for Rita. Rather than merely trying to win her over through tricks or manipulation, he dedicates himself to becoming a genuinely better person. This shift is poignantly illustrated in a beautiful scene where he spends his day engaged in selfless acts—saving a child from falling, helping an elderly man, and ultimately winning Rita’s heart, but only when he authentically transforms. The film’s climax is both humorous and uplifting.

As the final cycle unveils itself, Phil awakens to the promise of a new day, free from the shackles of his previous loops. It’s a testament to the power of metamorphosis and redemption; Phil’s journey showcases how genuine love and gratitude are the keys to breaking free from life’s repetitiveness.

Groundhog Day resonates beyond its comedic premise, compelling viewers to reflect on the importance of every moment and the capacity for change within oneself. It artfully balances humor with philosophical inquiry, reminding us that while life may at times feel like an endless cycle, it is our choices and actions that give it meaning. This film leaves audiences with a resonant message: The power to change our fate lies within, and each day presents a new opportunity for growth, connection, and love.

The popcorn is officially popping! We are halfway through my list, getting closer and closer to my number one greatest film of all time. As we delve into the movie from the teens, my tastes become more expressive and vibrant, featuring stories that have changed cinema forever. Many of these films are directed by filmmakers who offer deeper meanings, avoiding superficiality. That is what movies are all about. So, get your popcorn ready and your seats reclined—let's explore the films of the teens!

#20 It’s A Wonderful Life (1946)

Frank Capra’s timeless classic, It’s a Wonderful Life, is more than just a holiday film; it is a deeply moving narrative that explores themes of family, grace, selflessness, and the profound impact of individual choices.

The film opens with a poignant scene on a small, snow-dusted bridge near Bedford Falls, where George Bailey (played by Jimmy Stewart) stands at the edge, grappling with despair and contemplating suicide. As tension mounts, the voices of his devoted wife, Mary (Donna Reed), and their children can be heard fervently pleading and praying for his safe return. At the same time, we are introduced to an intriguing dialogue between Joseph, an authoritative celestial figure, and the kind-hearted but inexperienced angel Clarence (Henry Travers), who has yet to earn his wings. Their conversation centers around how to inspire George to understand the true spirit of Christmas and the immeasurable value of his life.

Rather than depicting characters as mere archetypes, Capra allows audiences to explore George Bailey’s rich backstory, highlighting the significant impact he has made on the community of Bedford Falls. The flashback sequences feature talented young actors who closely resemble Stewart and Reed, enhancing the emotional connection between the characters and the viewers. Each flashback is meticulously crafted, revealing the motivations and sacrifices behind George’s character. The film’s ultimate antagonist, the ruthless Board Member Potter (Lionel Barrymore), embodies the callous nature of the era’s magnates and robber barons, contrasting sharply with George’s altruism.

The final act of the film is powerful, as Stewart and Travers illuminate George's heart-wrenching journey through an alternate reality: a grim Pottersville where he was never born. This transformed hometown, stripped of vibrancy, highlights George's vital role in the community as he faces the consequences of his absence and wishes to live. The moment resonates with the audience, evoking empathy for his plight.

The film concludes with a heartwarming scene featuring young Zuzu, who joyfully says, “Every time a bell rings, an angel’s gotten its wings.” This remark reflects Clarence’s transition and the film’s message about kindness and community. Stewart’s joyful expression, as he is surrounded by loved ones during the holidays, embodies the essence of living a wonderful life.

#19 The Color Purple (1985)

I had the opportunity to review the 2023 musical adaptation of The Color Purple, based on the Broadway show and Alice Walker's novel, last year. While I found the musical to be engaging and vibrant, it ultimately fell short of capturing the deep emotional resonance that Spielberg’s 1985 film masterfully presented.

Spielberg’s cinematic vision illustrates the stark racial divides of the American South in the early 20th century, effectively bringing to life a setting that feels both decrepit and neglected and highlighting the struggles and triumphs of its characters against a backdrop of societal injustice. The opening frame of the film captures two sisters, Celie and Nellie, playing hand-games. We learn that Celie was raped at the hands of her father, producing two of his children. In his cinematic depiction of Celie's reality, Spielberg skillfully illustrates a world that is both fragmented and rustic, utilizing these visual metaphors to mirror her profound emotional distress. The setting, characterized by its wooden and dilapidated elements, serves as a visceral representation of Celie's sense of entrapment and despair. Her marriage to Mister stands out as a poignant allegory for her subjugation and lack of agency, encapsulating the overwhelming power dynamics she must navigate in a patriarchal society. This relationship powerfully underscores the theme of helplessness that pervades her life, further emphasizing the struggles she faces as she seeks to reclaim her identity and strength.

The performances in this production are truly remarkable. Whoopi Goldberg delivers an extraordinary portrayal of Celie, showcasing her immense talent in one of her debut roles. She captivates the audience with a profound mix of vulnerability and desperation that resonates deeply on screen. Meanwhile, Oprah Winfrey’s portrayal of Sofia is equally compelling; her powerful presence and spirited performance are nothing short of Oscar-worthy. Unfortunately, the Academy awarded the honor to Anjelica Huston that year, but Winfrey’s performance undeniably deserves recognition. Every actor delivered their best performance in the dinner scene where Celie confronts the monster, Mister, who imprisoned her from standing up for herself. The film's ending is heartfelt and memorable, cementing Spielberg not only as a sci-fi legend but a force in storytelling.

#18 Psycho (1960)

Norman Bates gave me nightmares. Anthony Perkins’ Norman Bates in Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho still stands as one of the greatest horror and imaginative performances. The final scene of the film takes place in a police interrogation room, with Bates appearing all innocent until the door closes. The shot of his face turning from innocent to guilty, all while saying nothing, as his face moved, gave me the creeps. Why does Perkins look so charming  yet evil at the same time? It is psychotic and frightening. I had a lamp on for two weeks.

Hitchcock’s directing and screenwriting in Psycho are at his career’s best. His twists are always legendary, keeping audiences on the edge of their seats in fear for his compelling characters’ survival. But this is different. The protagonist, Marion Crane (Janet Leigh), who I would consider a main character, is killed not even halfway through the film. It is shocking to say the least, but Hitchcock is brave enough to break cinematic rules by showcasing a death in a horrific manner that was and is ahead of its time.

We do have to talk about that shower scene. I feared taking showers after Psycho. Hitchcock frames it from Marion’s perspective, the sound of the water makes it seem like a normal shower, until a shadowy figure with a knife appears. We don’t see who it is (Hint! It’s Norman Bates). The shadow lurks closer and closer. The music changes. The shower curtain opens and a stabbing sound is heard. We hear Marion scream as blood goes down the drain, until Marion’s lifeless body falls into the tub. The scene is in black and white, which makes the scene 10 times scarier. Leigh is fantastic here, which cemented her and her daughter, Jamie Lee Curtis, as scream queens.

#17 Sinners (2025)

I am breaking my rule once again. I promised myself I wouldn’t include films after completing my initial list. Worse still, the movie at #17 is still in theaters; however, it would be a cinematic sin not to include Ryan Coogler’s original masterpiece, Sinners.

Sinners is an innovative fusion of genres, intertwining the dark allure of a vampire film with the exuberance of a musical, all set against the backdrop of Southern Gothic horror. The film stands as a profound tribute to the depth and vibrancy of Black American culture in the 1930s, showcasing a range of influences that are both rich and diverse.

In Coogler's film, Michael B. Jordan plays dual roles as twins Smoke and Stack, who are hosting a party to celebrate one last night in a barn before it is raided by the KKK. I typically hesitate when one actor plays dual roles because it can limit the variety between each character's intentions. However, Jordan proves me wrong by giving each twin distinct traits and voices that reflect their differences while still mirroring each other. He delivers two powerful performances.

The real standout, though, is Miles Caton's cousin Sammie, who moves to Chicago to pursue a career as a jazz and blues musician. Caton’s voice feels like it belongs to a different era, and a scene in which he sings in the car while playing his banjo is genuinely awe-inspiring. Later in the film, he has a musical number that highlights how the power of music connects generations, with people from both modern and ancient times dancing to Sammie’s performance. It’s a fantastic moment to witness in the theater.

Then the vampires arrive. However, these vampires are not the KKK; they are three Irish immigrants. They perform their musical numbers as they turn Smoke and Stack’s Black friends and family into blood-sucking vampires. Interestingly, the vampires are not the true villains—rather, a Chinese couple, Black Americans, and Irish immigrants all serve as victims, betrayed by White America. This perspective fosters sympathy for Coogler’s villains, and Jack O’Connell, as the lead vampire, delivers an underrated performance.

The final act of the film is thrilling as the remaining survivors fight to save their communities. However, a mid-credits scene elevates the film from great to a masterpiece. An older Sammie, portrayed by legendary blues musician Buddy Guy, recalls that night back in the 1930s and reflects that it was the greatest night of his life because the power of music made him feel alive. Sinners brings a vital story to life that truly needs to be told.

#16 Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)

There’s something remarkably bold about Rogue One—A Star Wars Story, a film that dares to strip away the Jedi mysticism, familiar family names, and lightsaber duels, choosing instead to center its story on people whose contributions history will never fully acknowledge. When I first saw it, I didn’t expect to walk away feeling emotionally wrecked by a sci-fi war movie. But Gareth Edwards’ gritty prequel doesn’t just add context to A New Hope—it redefines it.

We follow Jyn Erso (Felicity Jones), whose childhood was stolen by war and whose life has been defined by the absence of parents, peace, and purpose. Jones sparks a fire in her performance, accepting her fate as a victim of war. But the brilliance of the film lies in how war slowly ignites the revolutionary within her. The supporting cast is excellent, each bringing a nuance and texture to the Rebel Alliance, but it's Diego Luna’s tormented Cassian Andor who stands out. Jones and Luna have amazing chemistry because Edwards doesn’t turn them into lovers but a pair of survivors driven by fate. Cassian and Jyn aren’t clean heroes; they are desperate, fractured, and painfully well-written.

The cinematography is soaked in grit and urgency, a stark contrast to the polished feel of other Star Wars entries. It feels like a battlefield—raw and intimate. The Battle of Scarif is one of the most visually spectacular set pieces in the franchise, but it’s the emotional stakes that elevate it. As each character falls, one by one, there’s no melodrama—only purpose. Michael Giacchino’s score commands as they transmit the Death Star plans, and their sacrifice becomes the seed of hope that will blossom throughout the galaxy.

Then there’s that final scene—Darth Vader’s hallway massacre, a terrifying ballet of darkness, and the immediate handoff to Leia’s iconic “hope.” I still get chills thinking about how perfectly it bridges old and new. Rogue One doesn’t rely on nostalgia—it earns its place in the canon through heartbreak, bravery, and the profound reminder that the smallest voices can still shape the galaxy

#15 Us (2019)

Jordan Peele’s Us isn’t just a horror film—it’s a cultural reckoning disguised in red jumpsuits. I went in expecting thrills, but I left with questions about privilege, trauma, and the invisible lives mirrored beneath our own. In many ways, Us is more disturbing than Peele’s debut directorial Get Out—not because it’s gorier or scarier but because it implicates all of us.

The story follows the Wilson family on a beach vacation that quickly descends into nightmare territory when their doppelgängers confront them. Lupita Nyong’o delivers a performance of a lifetime in dual roles as Adelaide and Red, weaving together elegance, terror, and tragedy with astonishing physicality. Her vocal distortion as Red is chilling, but it’s her silence as Adelaide—those moments of panic, protectiveness, and deep inner conflict—that reveal the film’s soul. I am still mad that Lupita wasn’t even nominated, let alone won an Oscar. The Academy Awards fail to recognize horror as a genre, snubbing Demi Moore’s powerful performance in the body-horror flick The Substance last year.

Peele loads every frame with subtext. The scissors, the rabbits, the red jumpsuits, the underground tunnel; they’re puzzle pieces that force us to engage. And while the film can be cryptic, it’s never incoherent. The metaphor of the Tethered—people forced to live underground, mimicking the lives of the privileged—is a searing indictment of inequality among Black Americans.

The home invasion is only the beginning. What makes Us unforgettable is the shift in scale—the realization that this is a nationwide uprising. These shadows aren’t just stalking one family; they’re demanding recognition. The final fight between Adelaide and Red is heartbreaking, but I wasn’t ready for what came next, and it's downright haunting. The ending twist (I won’t spoil it, as it is so complex yet worthy of seeing facial expressions change) forces us to reexamine the concept of identity itself. Are we rooting for a hero or a villain? Us doesn’t offer answers—it turns the mirror toward us and waits.

#14  Pitch Perfect (2012)

Some movies become part of our internal playlist—Pitch Perfect is that film for me. It’s hilarious, catchy, and absurd in the best ways, but it’s also a celebration of the misfits, the misunderstood, and the voices that dare to harmonize when everyone expects them to stay silent.

The introduction is phenomenal right from the start. The Barden Bellas, an all-female a cappella group plagued by outdated traditions and internal rivalry, performed Ace of Base’s “I Saw The Sign” the year before, much to the dismay of the judges. Announcers John (John Michael Higgins) and Gail (Elizabeth Banks) share a fantastic chemistry that steals every scene. Everything seems to be going well until the nervous co-lead, Aubrey (Anna Camp), unexpectedly vomits all over the third row. This moment is hilarious because it's a common fear that many people experience when performing or speaking in front of an audience, and it happens at the worst yet funniest possible time.

Cut to five months later, we follow Beca (Anna Kendrick), a fiercely independent college freshman who is uninterested in campus life. She joins the Barden Bellas, an all-female a cappella group plagued by outdated traditions and internal rivalry. What follows is a gleeful reimagining of the underdog narrative—but with mashups, mic drops, surprisingly moving character arcs, and a great “Cups” audition. When I first saw the film, I bet every cup in my kitchen was out on the kitchen table.

Rebel Wilson’s Fat Amy is comedic gold. Her confidence is infectious, and every line she delivers is a classic. Her performance of “Turn the Beat Around” is hilarious as Wilson uses physical comedy to command the screen. But beneath the humor is something sincere: a group of young women learning to trust each other and themselves. The film never feels overly sentimental, yet it earns every emotional beat.

Music is at the heart of the film’s magic. The riff-offs, the rehearsals, the spontaneous harmonies—they pulse with energy. The finale, a killer mashup featuring "Price Tag" and "Don’t You (Forget About Me)," transforms the Bellas into something new. They’re not just technically sound—they’re joyful, fearless, and fresh, accepting who they are and breaking from tradition. Pitch Perfect isn’t trying to change cinema. It’s trying to remind you that your voice matters—even if it doesn’t sound like everyone else’s. And that’s what makes it aca-perfect.

#13 Mean Girls (2004)

Watching Mean Girls is like flipping through a high school yearbook we didn’t know we were part of. Tina Fey’s screenplay is razor-sharp, capturing the battlefield of adolescence with both biting satire and surprising empathy. It’s endlessly quotable because it’s endlessly true.

Cady Heron (Lindsay Lohan) begins as a homeschooled outsider dropped into the world of public high school. But instead of staying the sweet newcomer, she evolves—or rather, devolves—into a Plastic, mirroring the very girls who mock and manipulate her on her first day. Cady’s descent feels real because it’s rooted in insecurity, the desire to belong, and the slow erosion of self, with Lohan making Cady appear more relatable.

But the star is Rachel McAdams,  Regina George, the apex predator of the school hierarchy. She’s manipulative, magnetic, and surprisingly complex. Fey doesn’t let any of her characters off easy. Janis (Lizzy Caplan) is judgmental. Damian hides behind sarcasm. Even the teachers project their issues onto the students. Everyone’s got a role, and everyone is playing it.

The structure is tight, with each beat landing harder than the last. The talent show, the confessions in the gym, the burning of the Burn Book—all iconic. But it’s the little moments that stay with me: Cady apologizing to Ms. Norbury. Regina is taking her rage to the field. Gretchen is still trying to make “fetch” happen. Beneath the pink and pettiness is a story about identity. Who are we when we’re not trying to impress anyone? Can we be nice when being mean gets you everything? Mean Girls is a comedy, yes—but it’s also a cautionary tale about becoming the very thing we claim to hate.

#12 Forrest Gump (1994)

Forrest Gump is one of those films that feels like it’s always been there, part of our cultural fabric. It’s a journey through decades of American history, seen through the eyes of a man who never asks for greatness, but achieves it through grace, love, and relentless honesty.

Tom Hanks is Forrest Gump. He doesn’t play him with pity or condescension—he plays him with unwavering sincerity. Forrest’s innocence is not a weakness; it’s his compass. He doesn’t overthink. He simply does what he believes is right: rescuing his friends in Vietnam, investing in shrimp because of a promise, running across America because he needs to clear his mind.

The film walks a fine line between satire and sincerity. It pokes fun at historical absurdities—Forrest teaching Elvis to dance, unwittingly exposing Watergate—but it never turns him into a joke. The people around him change, evolve, and self-destruct, but Forrest remains. He is a constant in a chaotic world.

The emotional backbone is his love for Jenny (Robin Wright), a character who has been shattered by trauma and is uncertain about her place in the world. Their relationship is tragic but real. Jenny drifts in and out of Forrest’s life like a ghost, and when she finally returns, it’s fleeting but powerful. Their son is the future—a beautiful mix of Forrest’s heart and Jenny’s spirit. We hate Jenny for leaving Forrest because we are rooted in Forrest. Still, Wright’s complexity is what sets Jenny apart from an archetype character to a broken person from a complicated world.

Every line of dialogue is loaded with meaning. “Life is like a box of chocolates.” “I may not be a smart man, but I know what love is.” They’ve become clichés, sure—but only because they’re profoundly true. Forrest Gump is a love letter to decency, to endurance, and to the idea that doing the right thing, even when no one notices, is its kind of brilliance.

#11 Poseidon Adventure (1972)

Disaster films usually go big on spectacle, but The Poseidon Adventure goes even bigger on heart. It’s not just about escaping a sinking ship—it’s about who you become when everything familiar is turned upside down.

It all begins on New Year’s Eve aboard the S.S. Poseidon. As partygoers celebrate, a tidal wave strikes, flipping the massive ship underwater. What follows is a tense and claustrophobic odyssey through inverted hallways and waterlogged chambers. But what makes the film so gripping isn’t the survival mechanics—it’s the humanity.

Gene Hackman delivers a powerhouse performance as Reverend Scott, a preacher who believes God helps those who help themselves. His struggle with faith and responsibility adds philosophical weight to the crisis. Shelley Winters as Belle Rosen is unforgettable. Her swimming scene—where she sacrifices herself to save another—is a gut-punch of raw, emotional cinema that captures that everyday heroes don’t have to wear capes.

The cinematography captures the disorientation perfectly. Every space feels alien, the ship now a deathtrap of broken metal and rising water. But amidst the chaos, the survivors find courage in each other. There are moments of bitterness, sure, but also profound acts of bravery. The final act is emotionally shattering. Not everyone makes it out, and the scars left behind aren’t just physical. When the survivors finally reach the hull and are rescued, it doesn’t feel like victory—it feels like survival with a cost. The Poseidon Adventure makes you feel every step, every climb, every breath held underwater. It’s not just thrilling—it’s deeply, painfully human.

The popcorn is popping. My curated lists featured iconic masterpieces by Spielberg, bustling romantic comedies, compelling body horror films, and rich autobiographical films that showcase the power of cinema to inspire, entertain, and provoke throughout. As we zoom through the 20s, these films captivate my imagination with stories that I thought were impossible, but brilliant directors made these stories possible. Here we go!

#30 The Substance (2024)

The most unusual film of the past year, Coralie Fargeat’s The Substance, exceeded my low expectations. The trailer appeared strangely odd, in a negative way, and seemed like unsuccessful Oscar bait. I was wrong. The film is undeniably bizarre, delving into extreme body horror, grotesque and unsettling imagery, and unconventional storytelling techniques; however, the final product is a cinematic masterpiece. Demi Moore stars as Elizabeth Sparkle, an aging Hollywood television exercise actress whose show has been canceled. She undergoes a mysterious procedure called "The Substance," transforming her into a younger and better version of herself named Sue (Margaret Qualley). But things soon take a dark turn.

Fargeat depicts this sudden transformation with grotesque violence as a metaphor for Hollywood’s misogynistic treatment of aging actresses. The scariest scene for me isn’t the body horror; rather, it’s when a Hollywood executive (Dennis Quaid) and a group of older producers confront the newly successful Sue and tell her that “pretty girls should always smile.” This moment starkly highlights how Hollywood often objectifies women in a misogynistic manner, prioritizing looks over talent.

Although the film only won one Oscar, awarded for Makeup, Fargeat should have won for directing. Moore deserved an overdue Best Actress win, and Qualley's sensational performance in Supporting Actress was overlooked and failed to receive a nomination. Moore’s loss was particularly problematic for me. When the younger actress Mikey Madison, who starred in Anora, won the Oscar over frontrunner Moore, it underscores the deeper meaning of The Substance: older actresses are overlooked for younger actresses in the film industry.

#29 Back to the Future (1985)

Imagine traveling back in time and discovering that your teenage mother has developed a crush on you; that’s the premise of Robert Zemeckis' Back to the Future. I’ve watched this cinematic masterpiece at least 20 times, and each viewing reveals fresh insights and hidden Easter eggs that keep the experience exciting. For instance, I never noticed the clever transformation from Twin Pines Mall to Lone Pine Mall after Marty McFly accidentally knocks down one of the pine trees during his time travel adventure to 1955.

Having watched multiple documentaries about the film's creation, I was struck to learn that the role of Marty McFly was initially offered to Eric Stoltz. The thought of that casting choice is almost heartbreaking, as it would have dramatically altered the film's dynamic. I feel fortunate that Michael J. Fox secured the role. His unique blend of comedic timing and emotional authenticity brought unparalleled depth to Marty McFly. One of my favorite moments is when Marty incredulously tells Doc Brown, "You built a time machine out of a DeLorean!" Fox’s delivery perfectly captures the sheer wonder and astonishment in the face of such an absurd yet fascinating invention. His ability to portray that mix of excitement and disbelief is something only he could achieve.

The film masterfully showcases visual storytelling, featuring iconic moments that captivate the audience. When I first watched the DeLorean accelerate to 88 mph, accompanied by Alan Silvestri’s stirring score, I knew the film was unforgettable. The production design is impeccable, with great attention to detail; the 1955 Hill Valley closely mirrors the 1985 setting. This attention to detail not only enhances the visual experience but also deepens the connection between the two eras, making it an exhilarating ride through time that the subsequent sequels failed to match compared to the original.

#28 Zodiac (2007)

I am breaking my promise: I initially decided not to include any films I viewed after compiling my list of greatest cinematic works, as an act of respect for these films. I recently experienced the gripping masterwork of David Fincher’s Zodiac, and I am compelled to include the film because it truly doesn’t receive the recognition it deserves. With its meticulous attention to the real-life killing spree of the masked killer “The Zodiac Killer” that haunted the streets of Bay Area in 1969 to 1970, it is a gruesome psychological thriller that exceeds the labyrinth of intrigue.

The opening scene of Zodiac is chilling: depicting the 1969 murder of Darlene Ferrin and the attack on Michael Mageau, two teenagers at a lover’s lane. Fincher frames the scene from the victim's perspective. A car stops behind them, an ominous figure approaches the window, Mageau rolls down the window, and gunshots pop. Fincher adds tension to the already frightening scene with Donovan’s “Hurdy Gurdy” playing on the radio, with the backdrop of gunfire and blood splattering.

The opening lifts the already great Zodiac into uncharted territory. The film primarily centers on Robert Graysmith (Jake Gyllenhaal), a cartoonist at a San Francisco newspaper. Graysmith becomes deeply engrossed in the chilling mystery surrounding the Zodiac murders, as his fascination intensifies when his newspaper receives one of the notorious Zodiac's cryptographic messages. As Graysmith dives deeper into the case, he becomes increasingly obsessed with uncovering the identity of the elusive killer, navigating a complex web of clues, dead ends, and the impact of the murders on the community and those involved in the investigation. Gyllenhaal's performance in Zodiac is arguably the best of his career.

However, the standout performance comes from John Carroll Lynch, who delivers a haunting portrayal of the main suspect, Arthur Leigh Allen, during an interrogation scene. Fincher instructed Lynch to act as innocently as possible; the more innocent he appears, the more guilty he seems. His seven-minute interrogation scene never won an Oscar. The film was never nominated, and it's a shame because Zodiac is a chilling masterpiece.

#27 Nickel Boys (2024)

I wasn’t sure what to make of RaMell Moss’s film, Nickel Boys, based on the novel of the same name by Colson Whitehead. It felt depressing and featured an unconventional camera style that used a first-person perspective, where viewers only see exterior shots without showing the actors’ faces. The film had strange shifts in character perspectives and felt quite long. However, the more I thought about it, the more I appreciated this unconventional style. It added a layer of realism to the story, bringing life to its characters and social commentary.

The film follows Elwood Curtis (played by newcomer Ethan Henisse), an African-American teenager in 1960s Tampa, Florida, who is wrongly accused of a crime and sent to Nickel Academy, a reform school based on the real-life Dozier School. While the school appears fine on the surface, the first-person perspective reveals its sinister nature: exterior shots of white guards beating Black students, the sounds of whips cracking, and the screams that linger as shots focus on a wall. It is both horrifying and depressing. Although Henisse is often hidden from the camera's view, he delivers one of the best debut performances I have ever seen. Elwood befriends Turner (Brandon Wilson), who is cynical about the Civil Rights Movement and feels defeated, in contrast to Elwood’s hopeful demeanor. Their quiet struggle for survival speaks volumes, especially as images and rapid clips of the Civil Rights Movement provide commentary throughout the story. Aunjane Ellis Taylor, off her tasteful performance in Origin, also delivers a remarkable performance as Elwood’s aunt.

The film intertwines images of the past with present-day events, especially as Elwood is set to testify against the school after mass graves were discovered on the premises. The ending features a significant twist, leaving viewers feeling depressed, shocked, and rightly disgusted. RaMell Moss has established himself among the ranks of great visual storytellers.

#26 Prey (2023)

I never really liked the Predator series. The cheesy action sequences and generic plotlines always felt like a ripoff of Aliens. I found Arnold’s infamous line, “Get to the chopper,” quite annoying. I’ve never understood why anyone would bother making sequels. When Prey, a stand-alone prequel to Predator, was released, I initially passed on it. However, when I learned that one of my favorite Indigenous actresses, Amber Midthunder, was in the film, I decided to give it a chance. Dan Trachtenberg’s Prey is nothing like the original Predator, and that’s a great thing. He managed to create a genuinely compelling Predator installment.

Set in 1719 in the Lakota plains, the story follows a young Comanche warrior named Naru (Midthunder), who is disrespected by her patriarchal society. She discovers that the skins of the local bison are being taken by an unknown predator. As she seeks the truth, she realizes that an alien predator is camouflaged in the nearby woods, and she is the only one in her tribe who senses what is happening.  However, the true villains are the French merchants who invade her territory, the real mercenaries who are slaughtering their bison and decimating her tribe. To make matters worse, her brother is killed by the predator, prompting Naru to take matters into her own hands.

Midthunder delivers a sensational performance in the climactic finale, showcasing epic action stunts as she uses echolocation to track the predator’s movements while fighting for her people. She delivers the poignant line, “You are the predator,” which may seem generic in an Arnold film, but Midthunder’s emotional depth elevates it into a powerful cinematic moment. Trachtenberg pays great attention to Comanche culture, consulting with Native historians and linguists to give respect to their tribe and customs without whitewashing the story. The ending is explosive, as Naru is accepted as both a warrior and a savior of her tribe. Midthunder and Trachtenberg have truly established themselves as creative forces, and I can’t wait to see what they collaborate on next.

#25 Mad Max Fury Road (2015)

I didn't enjoy the Mad Max films; I found them boring, and the action sequences felt redundant. I've never liked Mel Gibson as an actor because he always comes across as bland. The only thing that kept this tired series somewhat interesting was George Miller's direction. His worldbuilding of the Australian outback in a post-apocalyptic society is breathtaking and beautiful. However, Mad Max: Fury Road is the best film in the series and revitalized the franchise. It features no Mel Gibson, improved storylines, and great action sequences that elevate the film. Max, (now played by Tom Hardy), is enslaved under Immortan Joe and teams up with the fierce warrior Furiosa, (Charlize Theron). Furiosa is on a mission to rescue her female wives and escape.

The action sequences in this film are outstanding, but it is Theron's performance that truly elevates it to new heights. Although her backstory is only briefly touched upon, her motivation to find her homeland, from which she was abducted as a child, is poignant. When she discovers that her homeland has been destroyed and there is nothing left, she falls to the ground and sobs. This moment is heartbreaking and makes us root for her as a strong action hero.

George Miller returned with Furiosa last year, trying to depict her backstory, but the film fell flat and lost the magic of "Fury Road." It also recast Theron with Anya Taylor-Joy and featured a lackluster performance from Chris Hemsworth. His acting lacked depth, causing the film to feel messy. I am grateful for Theron’s incredible performance in "Fury Road," as it truly solidified the franchise's impact.

#24 Live from Baghdad (2002)

I have a deep appreciation for journalism films that capture the spirit of the field. Compelling narratives like Shattered Glass, Spotlight, Broadcast News, and The Post resonate with me; however, my absolute favorite among these is Live from Baghdad. This remarkable film recounts the groundbreaking efforts of CNN as they vividly documented the harrowing events during the bombing of Baghdad in the Gulf War. It brilliantly illustrates how risk-taking journalism not only brought the realities of war into living rooms worldwide but also catapulted CNN into the spotlight, establishing it as a leader in real-time news reporting.

In the film, Michael Keaton delivers an impressively nuanced and underrated performance as a dedicated TV news producer navigating the high-stakes world of wartime journalism. He is relentless in his efforts to secure an exclusive interview with the infamous dictator Saddam Hussein, driven by the urgency and gravity of the situation. However, the plot takes a sharp turn when CBS unexpectedly lands the coveted interview, igniting a fierce competition among network news teams.

The narrative weaves in real-life journalists, prominently featuring Bernard Shaw, whose presence adds a layer of authenticity to the unfolding drama. The film's climax is particularly tension-filled, as viewers find themselves on the edge of their seats, rooting for these courageous journalists amidst the chaos of airstrikes happening just outside their windows. In a moment of dark humor, Shaw inadvertently goes live on air and expresses a hilarious longing for a turkey sandwich, providing a striking contrast to the perilous environment and highlighting the absurdities that can arise even in moments of crisis.

#23 The Shining (1980)

The Shining gave me severe nightmares the first time. The creepy twins in monotone, “Come play with us, Danny,” with the instant shot of their dead bodies chopped up on the floor with blood splattered all over the walls. But what I found scarier is how a seemingly normal father transforms into a monster on a psychotic spree killing his wife and son at an ominous hotel, The Overlook, in the snowy setting of the Rocky Mountains. Stephen King hated Stanley Kubrick’s version of The Shining because it didn’t follow the book of the same name. That is probably a good thing because Kubrick’s version is visionary.

The performances are amazing. Jack Nicholson’s portrayal of Jack Torrance is legendary. He can still be somewhat charming all while being an insane famililcide killer. The “Here’s Johnny” line is inherently funny, but well-constructed because no other actor could portray the line in such a psychotic manner. Shelley Duvall’s performance was criticized by both critics and audiences; however, I believe she is the film's secret weapon. Stanley Kubrick significantly impacted her career by creating a stressful environment on set, which included instances of harassment. Despite this, she effectively portrays the fear of a wife trying to save herself and her son while simultaneously running away from the person she loves.

The setting of the Overlook is also visually thorough. The vibrant colors of the hallway almost reveal something lurking beneath the surface, or perhaps in Room 237. That bathtub scene also gave me nightmares. The ending is chilling and serves as a stark reminder that writer’s block can make people go insane- not to the extreme of killing your own family, but still.

#22 Drop Dead Gorgeous (1999)

Drop Dead Gorgeous is an often-overlooked gem from the late ‘90s that delivers a unique blend of dark humor and sharp satire, centered around the quirky world of a small-town beauty pageant in Minnesota. The film masterfully captures the eccentricities of its characters and the competitive spirit of the pageant, all while illustrating the absurdity of beauty standards.

The cast features notable performances from veterans of television royalty, sketch comedy, including several who honed their craft on MadTV and Saturday Night Live. Furthermore, the film played a significant role in launching the careers of several prominent actresses, including Amy Adams, who portrayed a promiscuous contestant, Kirsten Dunst as Amber Atkins, an aspiring dancer who dreams of following in the footsteps of Diane Sawyer, and Denise Richards as Becky Leeman, the quintessential "mean girl." The film also features notable supporting roles from Ellen Barkin, who plays Amber’s trailer park mom, Alison Janney as the foul-mouthed friend of Amber’s mother, and Kirstie Alley as Gladys Leeman,  Becky’s mother, who is in charge of the pageant.

The film takes a dark turn as strange events unfold in the town, including the deaths of contestants, accidents, trailer park explosions, and missing dresses—all of which hint at sabotage orchestrated by Gladys. The pageant itself is hilarious, featuring all of the contestants performing a lively rendition of “Conga” and showcasing amusing talent sections. Amber delivers a fantastic tap-dancing performance after receiving encouragement from her fellow competitor (Brittney Murphy). Meanwhile, Becky offers a horrifying yet comedic rendition of “Can’t Take My Eyes Off You” while dancing with a stuffed Jesus Christ on a cross. Can you guess who wins? You might be able to figure it out. The film concludes with an uplifting ending, and thanks to clever writing and sharp social commentary, "Drop Dead Gorgeous" remains a cult classic that continues to resonate with audiences today.

#21 Napoleon Dynamite (2004) 

No other film captures the blend of awkwardness and sweetness quite like Jared Hess’s acclaimed Sundance production, Napoleon Dynamite. What began as a modest college project quickly transformed into an international indie cult classic, winning hearts around the globe almost overnight. The film's resonance with audiences can be attributed to its authentic portrayal of Rural Americana, depicted in a way that is both idealistic and realistic.

At the center of this quirky narrative is Jon Heder, who delivers a memorable performance as 16-year-old Napoleon Dynamite, an endearingly awkward loner searching for his place in a world that often feels unwelcoming. He navigates his days grappling with relentless bullies, sketching dual-purpose animals like ligers, and engaging in activities with FFA, all while living with his eccentric and computer-savvy older brother, Kip (Aaron Ruell), and his spirited grandmother in the small town of Preston, Idaho. The dynamics in the household shift dramatically when the hilariously over-the-top Uncle Rico (Jon Gries) moves in after being dumped by his girlfriend. Rico embodies the archetype of a washed-up athlete, constantly belittling Napoleon while obsessively reminiscing about his high school football glory days, even expressing a bizarre desire to travel back in time to reclaim his past stardom. Amidst this chaos, Napoleon forms a heartfelt friendship with the shy yet kindhearted Deb (Tina Marjorino) and the stoic transfer student Pedro (Efran Ramirez).

Hess weaves a narrative rich with cringeworthy yet adorably humorous situations, from the martial arts endeavors of Rex-Kwon-Do and Napoleon's poignant efforts to invite popular girl Trisha to the prom—spurred on by his artistic flair for drawing her a liger — to the film's iconic and absurd line, “Do chickens have large talons?” Ultimately, Napoleon Dynamite serves as a clever social commentary on the nuances of high school life, capturing the essence of what it means to feel out of place. It reinforces the message that those who embrace their awkwardness can carve out their niche, even finding success in unexpected ways, exemplified by Pedro’s victory in an election that defies all stereotypes, knowing that all of our wildest dreams can come true.

I loathe TV medical dramas. Their storytelling often falls into a predictable pattern, leading to a formulaic approach, lacking genuine creativity. The medical scenarios presented frequently stretch reality, depicting impossible procedures and improbable patient outcomes that could never occur in actual practice. The dialogue tends to be overly sentimental and clichéd, resulting in moments that feel forced and cheesy rather than authentic. Hospital romance and usual soap opera characters drain my little excitement for these dramas.

I needed a new show to watch. After the impressive and phenomenal finale of season two of Apple TV+'s Severance and the bold Hulu drama Paradise, I was running out of options for a Sunday afternoon binge. I grabbed the popcorn and discovered Max’s new hit__ medical drama, The Pitt. Everyone has been telling me: Watch this show, it’s great! My first reaction was, “eh.” It looked like the typical medical drama. Nothing looked good in my queue, so I decided to give The Pitt a shot. I might only last an episode, but it gives me something to watch in the meantime.

I was wrong. I didn't just watch a single episode; I've seen every episode released so far. With only one episode left, I can confidently say that The Pitt is one of the best television shows airing right now and perhaps ever. Medical shows can be repetitive, but I could easily watch 100 episodes of this show without it getting old.

The show is set in the emergency room (ER) of Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center, depicting the frontline heroes and patients. Medical drama royalty Noah Wyle (ER) is back in scrubs as Dr. Michael Robitavich (Dr. Robby), and no, this is neither an ER ripoff nor a spinoff or reboot. Most medical episodes occur over several days or weeks; however, The Pitt is set within a single day, following a 15-hour shift. It is essentially a medical drama, similar to the hour-by-hour format unfolding in real time, hit action show 24.

This storytelling device is particularly effective as it introduces a much-needed sense of realism to the medical genre. Audiences can connect with characters and patients throughout the day. Watching the doctors make progress and grow characteristically throughout the day and witnessing patients facing life-threatening situations and the family members affected by it is gut-wrenching, rewarding, and worthwhile.

The Pitt skillfully depicts its doctors and nurses as vibrant, multi-dimensional characters with realistic personalities. Among them are compassionate charge nurse Dana (Katherine LaNassa), insecure student doctor Whitaker (Gerran Howell), newly pregnant Dr. Collins (Tracy Ifeachor), overly confident and cynical intern Santos (Isa Briones), strong-willed and short-tempered senior resident Langdon (Patrick Ball), socially awkward yet kind resident Mel (Taylor Dearden), former addict and working mother resident McKay (Fiona Dourif), empathetic and patient-friendly resident Mohan (Supriya Gannessh), and young third-year medical student Javaldi (Shabeena Abeez) who is trying to follow in her mother’s footsteps.

The patients depicted in this narrative are not only realistic but also deeply relatable. Among them include parents reeling from the death of their college son who overdosed, a woman who was pushed in front of a train in a hate crime but was saved by a good samaritan, and a sickle cell patient who forms a connection with Mohan, a mother concerned about her depressed teenage son, siblings faced with the decision of whether to keep their resuscitated and incubated father alive, and elderly African American man who served on the frontlines in the early day of the 9-1-1 emergency response team.

There’s no heavy makeup, no dramatic monologues, and absolutely no sappy romances. The frontline workers and patients are depicted as real people, with certain episodes focusing on their individual stories. All the actors invest their hearts and souls into their characters, making them feel more like real individuals rather than two-dimensional figures. They are portrayed with genuine emotional depth in their work.

All of the episodes are fast-paced, stressful, and graphic. The Pitt doesn’t shy away from reality, showcasing firsthand emergency room operations and last-minute decision-making. There is a significant amount of blood, and some of the procedures can be gruesome. However, depicting this realism is what makes the show great.

The last three episodes that have aired present a gripping portrayal of a devastating mass-casualty shooting at a local music festival. These episodes are intense but also masterfully crafted, showcasing intricate character development and emotional depth. Noah Wyle delivers a career-best performance, capturing the raw anguish and complexity of Dr. Robby as he navigates the aftermath of the tragedy. His breakdown is poignant and haunting, displaying a level of vulnerability that resonates deeply with the audience. The writing and direction in these episodes elevate the narrative, making them some of the most powerful and unforgettable installments of the series. Sorry, Adam Scott. Noah Wyle, the Emmy is yours.

The Pitt will face competition from Severance at the Emmys. While Severance was outstanding, I wouldn't be upset at all if The Pitt wins major awards. The show has been renewed for a second season, and with one episode left, I can't wait to see what happens next!

The Pitt is available to stream on Max for $16.99 per month.

In my last edition, I listed my favorite films (ranging from 50 to 41). Notable editions included Spielberg gems, Jurassic Park and E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial, Stephen King’s Stand by Me, Penny Marshall’s A League of Their Own and Awakenings, and recent films Past Lives and The Creator. As we travel out of the 40s and zoom into the 30s, more intricate and exquisite films range from horror to classic, rom-coms to indies; checking all the boxes. Get the popcorn ready.

#40 North by Northwest (1959)

Hitchcock stands as a master at building suspense, consistently leaving viewers on the edge of their seats. North by Northwest is a prime example of that power. Hitchcock legend James Stewart (Rope, Rear Window, Vertigo) finds himself embroiled in a gripping case of mistaken identity that propels him on a cross-country chase. From the intense scene with a crop duster attacking him in central Indiana (which, unfortunately, was filmed in California) to the high-energy scene in a train station in Chicago (my great-great aunt was an extra in that scene). The on-screen chemistry with Eva Marie Saint is nothing short of perfect. The enticing final climax unfolds at Mt. Rushmore, accumulated by the iconic cafeteria (a major disappointment for me when I visited as it’s different). The stunning cinematography in the final moments captures Stewart climbing the nose of George Washington, solidifying the film as a quintessential Hitchcock experience that never loses steam.

#39 Jaws (1975)

Jaws is the masterpiece that cemented Spielberg as a cinematic legend and composer John Williams as a world-renowned maestro. Blending their respective talents has created phenomenal blockbuster flicks; Jaws is no exception. Spielberg adeptly portrays the shark (Bruce) as "pure evil," a vindictive predator stalking its next victim. The moment when Bruce devours the young boy (Alex) on the raft is spectacular filmmaking; the underwater camera angle shows Bruce swimming towards the raft until the water is stained with blood, complemented by William’s score, creating an unforgettable moment with the camera directed at Sheriff Brody’s face. We don’t see the boy devoured; instead, from the perspective of Brody and the water, a smart decision that gave longtime horror viewers the scare of a lifetime. The building of Amity Island is terrific as it presents a seemingly pleasant backdrop of normalcy, behind the catastrophe that occurs. The final hour is a thrilling final hour of filmmaking featuring, “You’re going to need a bigger boat,” the shot of Bruce’s mouth devouring Quint and the final explosion of shooting Bruce in the mouth; it is when critics realized that another cinematic legend was born.

#38 The Holdovers (2023)

The Holdovers is a recent film by Alexander Payne that surpasses the 2023 summer phenomenon of "Barbenheimer." Don’t get me wrong; I love "Barbenheimer." However, this underrated gem offers a compelling coming-of-age story that exceeds both films. Set in a New England boarding school during Christmas in 1971, Paul Giamatti delivers a memorable performance as a grumpy teacher who is disliked by both faculty and students. He is responsible for supervising the students whose parents do not pick them up, leaving them behind at the school; these students are known as "The Holdovers." Eventually, all the other students are picked up by their parents, leaving only one student, newcomer Dominic Sessa, to spend the holidays with him and the school cook, played by DaVine Joy Randolph. The three of them form a bond over the hardships they face in their individual lives. Randolph deserves every bit of the Oscar she won for her heartbreaking performance as a grieving mother. The film provides heartfelt laughs, such as when Sessa’s character breaks his arm after attempting to run away from Giamatti. The ending is bittersweet, as the three characters become different and better people. Ultimately, Payne emphasizes that true family is made from the friends we create along the way.

#37 The Joy Luck Club (1993)

The Joy Luck Club, adapted from Amy Tan’s novel of the same name, emphasizes the power of profound strength and resilience of female friendship. Set against the rich backdrop of Chinese culture, it weaves the intricate stories of four Chinese women and their daughters, each confronting their own unique challenges and generational conflicts. Through their shared experiences of meeting weekly to eat food and play Mahjong together, it explores the themes of love, sacrifice, and deep bonds that unite them. The film’s main plotline revolves around a going-away party for June (played by Ming-Na Wen), who is preparing to visit her twin half-sisters—whom her recently deceased mother abandoned after fleeing China during the Japanese invasion in World War II. The loss of their friend challenges the group, causing them to begin drifting apart. However, they eventually reconnect through their shared experiences and backstories. The emotional reunion with her sisters is heartwarming and tear-jerking, and The Joy Luck Club is a film that defies expectations.

#36 Erin Brockovich (2000)

Julia Roberts deserved the Oscar for Erin Brockovich. No other actress could deliver a powerful performance as Erin Brockovich, combining both a strong-willed and determined character with a touch of profanity and sass. The film depicts the true story of Brockovich's journey as an unemployed mother to a law firm clerk, uncovering a file that exposes a local water plant contaminated with dangerous chemicals that have been poisoning a nearby town for years and covering the abuse up. The stories of the people she interviews are heartbreaking, powerless, and unable to speak up the truth, while their health is deteriorating. I believe some individuals depicted in the film were real people affected by the tragedy, which makes the already depressing film even sadder; however, the film has an uplifting ending of the firm winning the case. Roberts's dynamite performance makes Brockovich's struggles as a woman realistic, as she endures misogyny, lack of respect, and equal pay in a male-dominated law firm, which stresses the importance of advocating for the people of this community.

#35 Origin (2023)

I believe the Academy Awards may have avoided nominating Origin due to its uncomfortable serious subject matter about societal inequalities, as the film was completely snubbed. Adapted from Isabel Wilkerson’s 2020 NYT bestseller “Caste: The Origins of Our Discontent” follows Wilkerson’s (played by Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor) research uncovering the roots of systemic racism in societies and how caste (a social system that divides people into fixed groups based on social hierarchies) defines our societies problems of racial inequality and marginalized groups. Her answers lead her to important forgotten stories of history ranging from one man refusing to do the Nazi salute in a famous photo to a young black boy on a winning mostly all-white ban from using a public pool and having to stay on the other side of the fence as his teammates enjoy the pool. Ellis-Taylor's performance was Oscar-worthy as she channels Wilkerson’s grief of losing the people she loves: husband, cousin, father) all while continuing her research. The best scene of the film features a conversation between Wilkerson and Miss Hale (Audra MacDonald), whom the latter tells why her father named her “Miss,” as a way to stand up for herself against the inferiorities of caste, both actresses deserved wins. This was a hard film to portray sensitively because of the nonlinear narrative and heavy subject matter, but director Ava DuVernay created a masterpiece with this film.

#34 Hidden Figures (2016)

One of the greatest films of the 2010s, the mesmerizing Hidden Figures tells the true story of three African-American women at NASA who are “human computers,” the brains behind the mission to launch astronaut John Glenn into Earth’s orbit. Set against the backdrop of the Civil Rights Movement, the film highlights the achievements of these three incredible women but also illuminates the challenges and discrimination they faced in a segregated workplace, ultimately showcasing their resilience, intellect, and significant contributions to space exploration. All three actresses—Taraji P. Henson, Octavia Spencer, and Janelle Monáe—deliver outstanding performances, but Henson stands out as the brilliant Katherine Johnson. One scene in particular, where Johnson shouts at her male coworkers that she has to run to the other building to use “the bathroom,” demanding she uses the bathroom in the building is powerful. Johnson’s anger captivates the audience as Henson deserved an Oscar that year for that one scene; however, she was snubbed of a meaningful nomination. I am starting to have a personal vendetta against the Academy Awards because Hidden Figures is golden.

#33 The Goonies (1985)

Outer Banks is a ripoff of The Goonies. A show that I have never watched, nor do I plan to, the Netflix trailer portrays the modern-day version of the classic sucks all of the life out of the story and fills it with teenage cliches and cheesy romantic relationships. Instead, watch The Goonies, an overall fun flick about a group of Oregon teenagers who embark on a treasure hunt that will lead them to find the lost fortune of One-Eyed Willy. The teenagers encounter the peril posed by counterfeit criminals who are determined to seize the gold for themselves, adding a touch of classic, one-dimensional villains to the film. With epic action sequences that include a thrilling chase, a waterfall slide, and encounters with skeletons, the movie culminates in an impressive finale that solidifies its status as an iconic '80s classic. The film launched the careers of Ke Huy Quan, Sean Astin, Josh Brolin, and Martha Plimpton with retired actor Jeff Cohen (now a lawyer) as the scene-stealing Chuck. I heard a sequel is in development, but I hope it recreates the same magic as the original. Probably not.

#32 Rocky lll (1982)

Look! The original Rocky is good but not great. I found it a little boring, and while the final fight between Rocky and Apollo is legendary, Rocky III is the greatest out of the franchise. I don’t care what critics say. Rocky III is the installment with Mr. T’s Clubber Lang: one of the funniest and greatest villains of the era. The opening montage showcasing Rocky’s rise to stardom that parallels Lang’s anger at the former’s fame is amazing filmmaking. Stallone also gives his best performance out of the series in Rocky III after his coach Mickey dies of a heart attack after being punched by Lang. The anger and grief Stallone captures in Rocky is phenomenal. The film also features the” Gonna Fly Now” with Rocky and Apollo running off the beach together, becoming friends after being opponents in the ring. The final fight between Rocky and Lang is legendary, cementing a rare occasion where a low-rated sequel is better than the original.

#31 9 to 5 (1980)

The final film on this list, 9 to 5, not only features the iconic Dolly Parton song of the same name in the opening but is considered groundbreaking both at the time of its release and today. Jane Fonda, Lily Tomlin, and Dolly Parton star as three women in a male-dominated workplace who befriend one another after facing repeated sexism and sexual advances from their boss Mr. Hart. The three women idealize killing their boss one night, and accidentally thought they had killed him after Tomlin’s character accidentally inserted rat poisoning into his coffee. The middle of the film, which features the three retrieving Hart’s dead body for the hospital, only to realize it is the wrong body, generates great laughs. After Hart returns to work alive the next day, threatening to report the three to the authorities, they lock him up as a prisoner at his home, running the company in his absence. It represents women's empowerment by featuring groundbreaking initiatives at the company, including universal childcare with a daycare center, equal pay for men and women, flexible hours, and job-sharing programs where women can work part-time jobs, which sadly is still irrelevant in today’s workplaces. The backdrop of women's empowerment and three great comedic performances elevated this film into a cinematic classic.

I love it when movie critics share their favorite films of all time, and it's something I've wanted to do for a long time. My challenge has been that I hadn't seen enough films I could confidently call “the greatest.” However, now as an adult, I'm able to watch more mature films, which has opened my eyes to various filmmakers, techniques, and actors who I deeply appreciate. Movies are a form of art that deserve recognition and accolades.

Over the coming months, I will share my top 50 films of all time. Please keep in mind that this list will not be updated as I see more movies. Out of respect for the films I've already selected, I will not include any great works of art I encounter after writing this list.

I will list my favorite movies from 50 to 41. Note: there are minor spoilers ahead. So, without further ado, get the popcorn ready!

#50 Jurassic Park (1993)

Jurassic Park is the greatest, dumbest movie of all time. Dinosaurs in the '90s? What could go wrong? One thing that certainly didn't go wrong was the intricate filmmaking by Spielberg. A master of his craft, he brought the dinosaurs to life using CGI, which was groundbreaking for its time. He expertly cultivates a palpable sense of suspense during the iconic freezer scene in the final act, a moment so tension-filled that it can make even the most seasoned viewer leap out of their seats in shock. The chilling atmosphere is heightened by the flickering lights and eerie sound effects, immersing the audience in a state of anxiety as they anticipate the unexpected. Each heartbeat feels magnified, and the fear of the unknown keeps everyone on the edge of their seats, showcasing the filmmaker's masterful ability to grip the viewer's emotions. Accompanying this visual spectacle is John Williams' extraordinary score, which not only enhances the atmosphere but also evokes deep emotions, transporting viewers into the heart of the Jurassic world. His powerful compositions perfectly complement the film's adventurous spirit, turning every moment into a memorable experience. The sequels cannot undo the brilliance of the original film, which captures exceptional movie magic.

#49 The Wave (2015)

The disaster film genre often runs the risk of becoming predictable, filled with explosive sequences, lackluster dialogue, subpar CGI, and a disappointingly formulaic final act. However, The Wave stands out as a notable exception to this trend. This Norwegian cinematic gem skillfully elevates the genre by introducing fresh and engaging elements. The plot centers around a catastrophic avalanche that triggers an 80-foot-tall tidal wave, which unleashes devastation upon a picturesque small town in Norway. Director Roar Uthaug masterfully crafts a sense of realism throughout the film, ensuring that the audience feels the weight of the impending disaster. He goes beyond just thrilling visuals; he develops richly drawn characters whose struggles and relationships resonate on a personal level. This character-driven approach provides a compelling emotional anchor that enhances the tension and stakes of the unfolding catastrophe. The Wave not only delivers heart-pounding action but also offers a poignant exploration of human resilience in the face of nature's unforgiving power.

#48 E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial (1982)

“I’ll be right here.”

This poignant final line from E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial resonates deeply, leaving audiences with tears in their eyes and hearts full of emotion. The film masterfully explores the profound bond between a young boy named Elliott and a gentle alien stranded on Earth. Their friendship transcends the boundaries of their vastly different worlds, showcasing themes of compassion and acceptance. The shot of Elliott and E.T. riding on the bike is one of the greatest shots in cinema history as the aesthetics of the moon in the backdrop creates an imaginary innocence we all yearn for from childhood. Drew Barrymore is also a standout on screen in her film debut. Spielberg, once again creates a groundbreaking work that paves the way for future cinematic storytelling, blending science fiction with heartfelt human experiences. Spielberg’s masterful direction and ability to evoke such deep emotional connections further solidify his status as one of the greatest filmmakers in cinematic history.

#47 Past Lives (2023)

Past Lives was only nominated for two Oscars: Picture and Original Screenplay. Really! The film was robbed. Debut director Celine Song inserted herself into the ranks of Scorcese, Tarantino, and Spielberg with a heartbreaking film with a poignant message. Greta Lee and Teo Yoo delivered the best performances of that year. Two childhood friends share an unbreakable bond and explore narrow alleyways, crafting their elaborate story together. Their world is shattered when Lee’s family is presented with an opportunity to emigrate to South America for a better life. Time drifts them apart and it isn’t until the end of the film that they reconnect for the first time in decades. Yoo's character portrays a heart-wrenching longing for his childhood friend, a love from which Lee has already moved on. The film captures a poignant moment with Lee in tears, reflecting on the life she missed sharing with him. The silence at the end delivers a lasting impact that I will remember forever.

#46 Stand by Me (1986)

Nope, this isn't the Ben E. King song of the same name. This is the quintessential Stand by Me, adapted from Stephen King’s short novella, The Body. The story follows four teenage friends growing up in King’s fictional Castle Rock, Maine, in the 1960s. They embark on a journey to find the body of a missing boy, facing dangers such as leeches, bullies, and the wilderness along the way. However, the real treasure of the story lies in their friendship. We all yearn for a friend group like theirs. Unable to fully embrace adulthood, they long to cling to their childhood innocence, sharing ghost stories around the campfire and cherishing their time together before life pulls them apart. When they finally discover the body of the missing boy, they are confronted with the grim reality of death, and a moment of silence signifies their crossing into adulthood. Rob Reiner masterfully directs this pivotal scene, which transforms the film into a classic.

#45 A League of Their Own (1992)

“There’s no crying in baseball.”

Tom Hanks delivers one of the greatest lines in movie history. He is great in Toy Story, Forrest Gump, and Saving Private Ryan; but A League of Their Own is one of his underrated projects. A fictionalized account of the real All-American Girls Baseball League during World War II playing for the Rockford Peaches. Geena Davis stars as the free-spirited Dottie who abandons her traditional homemaker life to play on the team with her sister, but it is Madonna who steals the film, showcasing her usual promiscuous spirit on and off the field. The ending runs the floodgates every time. The women reunite in present-day at an opening ceremony honoring the team. The themes of independence and women's empowerment hit hard with the stark reminder that women had to trade in their uniforms when the men returned home, indicating the women’s movement had yet to happen.

#44 The Creator (2023)

Another film that was robbed of at least a year’s Oscars. I am starting to wonder if the Academy Awards are scared to nominate sci-fi flicks. That shouldn’t be the case because The Creator is a masterpiece. Set in the distant future, where artificial intelligence has metamorphosed into humanoids and faces discrimination after causing a nuclear holocaust and war. John David Washington (Denzel Washington’s son) deserved at least an Oscar nomination for his work. He is tasked with delivering a secret technological device to government officials, only to discover it is a small humanoid child. Scarred from losing his wife, he forms a parental bond with the heartfelt child. The child (Madeleine Yuna Voyles) is the breakout star of the film. With little lines, she can capture the viewers with an impressive debut performance. The ending is heartbreaking and depressing, but it leaves a constant reminder that humans are to blame for mankind's actions.

#43 Fried Green Tomatoes (1991)

I would have loved to eat fried green tomatoes at the Whistle Shop Cafe and connect with these amazing characters. They don’t feel like movie characters; instead, people. Spanning multiple generations, Fried Green Tomatoes delivers heartfelt laughs, emotional scenes, and the power of female friendship. Half of the film takes place in the ‘30s with Mary Stuart Masterson and Mary Louise Parker and in the 90s with Kathy Bates and Jessica Tandy. The friendships mirror each other, as both pairs face neglect and abuse from their spouses, loss, and resilience growing with one another. Kathy Bates offers a stark contrast between her role as Annie Wilkes in Misery the previous year with an astonishing underrated performance that was robbed of an Oscar nomination. Cmon, Oscars; get it together.

#42 Waiting for Guffman (1996)

Christopher Guest is a comedic genius. From turning it up to 11 in This is Spinal Tap, a dog show in Best in Show, and a musical reunion in A Mighty Wind; his best project is Waiting for Guffman. His usual mockumentary filmmaking is present here also as the film depicts Blaine Missouri’s summer low-budget production of Red White and Blaine honoring the 150th anniversary of the town. Guest stars as the flamboyant Corky St. Clair who uses his off-Broadway connections to bring a Broadway critic to review the play to fulfill his dreams of making it to Broadway. Comedic prowesses Catherine O’Hara, Fred Willard, Eugene Levy, and Parker Posey make up the cast. The play is awfully good with horribly written songs including “Stools” about a stool and “Nothing Ever Happens on Mars” about an alien landing in Blaine. Guffman never arrives due to a New York snowstorm in July; however, Guest arrives on our screen with an amazing film.

#41 Awakenings (1990)

The final film featured on this list. Awakenings is dynamite. After losing both of my grandparents, the film makes me miss them even more. Robin Williams’ dramatic work is great here playing a fictional character based on Oliver Sacks who discovers a drug that can “awake” people from trance states and dementia. Awakenings showcases the resilience of Williams as he helps his patients adapt to life in the present day. Robert de Niro delivers an underrated performance as a patient awakens for the first time in decades. The patients have found life again, dancing and laughing again. I wish I could hear my grandma laugh again. The ending is heartbreaking as the patients revert to their original trance states, offering a stark reminder of spending the remaining time celebrating with loved ones.