Movies You Need To See Before You Die

Some films are a must-see because of the part they play in the cultural conversation. Watching unlocks a world of references, pub trivia answers, metaphors, and dinner party icebreakers—it puts you in the know. But other films are required viewing because of what they can teach us about love, hope, despair, faith, family, and even—warm and fuzzy alert—ourselves.

Dying before seeing Gaspar Noe's 2002 horror-drama Irreversible would rob you of witnessing two of the most brutal, nigh-unwatchable scenes of violence ever staged. If that sounds like something you're willing to happily part with, know this: the film plays out in reverse, ending hours before the horror begins, so the last half of the film feels like a cinematic sigh of relief, with an ending made even happier having just seen the brutality that preceded it. The characters may be oblivious as to what's ahead, but the audience knows full well and are left with a newfound appreciation of the fragility of human life.

It's like that old toast: "To the days that follow this one, which are still perfect." The hours before the unspeakable awfulness of Irreversible are still perfect—too perfect, perhaps; note the Astroturf-like grass in the park—and linger, to the viewer, as vividly as the violence. The film certainly isn't for the squeamish, but those willing to let in the dark are rewarded with an embarrassment of light.

Parents and parents-to-be, especially, should watch Yorgos Lanthimos's 2009 drama/comedy Dogtooth before shuffling, broke and exhausted, off their little slice of mortal coil that will forever smell of upchucked milk. Its coal-dark satire brings to light the insane pressure parents are under to mold their children into decent people—and the horrific consequences if they choose, instead, to warp them into something counter to the mores that enable them to leave the house and keep the cycle of life whirring on.

To say much more about the plot would ruin it for the uninitiated, but it involves Rocky IV, (offscreen) decapitation, incest, headbands-as-contraband, fake blood, and a VCR wielded as a weapon. It's not exactly the ideal post-turkey Thanksgiving Day flick to pick, no, but watching it in your old bedroom after everyone else has nodded off will make you awfully thankful your parents didn't resemble the nameless duo in Dogtooth.

Harold Ramis's 1993 comedy fantasy Groundhog Day is mandatory viewing not only because it's widely considered a comedy masterpiece but also because it's been adopted, and rightfully so, as a sort of Zen guide to self-improvement. If the "z" word scares you off, call it what you will, but it's hard to refute the film's core messages: you (yes, you) have boundless potential inside you, life is short, carpe diem, blood sausage is disgusting, and Chris Elliott is an underrated comic actor.

That Phil Connors's spiritual makeover is thoroughly non-denominational makes the film, and its message, better and all the more universal. His changes come from within and are ultimately motivated by a desire not to escape his timey-wimey prison but to instead improve himself and improve the lives of those around him. Plus, Bill Murray gets to have it both ways, playing a scumbag and a saint and also chewing the scenery with a live groundhog on his lap—a groundhog he murders at least once. The path to enlightenment is different for everybody, y'know?

If you've been woke about the Church of Scientology since before South Park was on the case, Alex Gibney's Going Clear isn't necessarily going to teach you anything new. But for the rest of us, it's a revelation, with dozens of absolutely bonkers allegations and stories brought to light. Did you know that L. Ron Hubbard has written more books than anyone, ever? Or that if you practice it—and pay for it—long enough, you "can handle things and exist without physical support or assistance," like you're Scarlet Witch?

Ultimately, Going Clear is more than just a takedown of the Church of Scientology. It's about blind faith, manipulation, and the willingness of crowds to follow charismatic leaders, despite mountains of evidence suggesting they do the contrary.

It's human nature to solve complicated puzzles and crack unsolved mysteries. But sometimes there are questions that just can't be answered — like who murdered five people in northern California during the late '60s and early '70s. He called himself the Zodiac, and nobody ever discovered his true identity, although that wasn't for lack of trying.

The case inspired quite a few sleuths — both professional and amateur — to try their hand at the infamous murder mystery, but they all walked away defeated. Well, most walked away. A few would never give up until they looked the killer right in the eyes. That's where David Fincher's Zodiac comes in. It's a treatise on obsession, on what happens to a person when curiosity keeps gnawing away at his mind. As you can guess, the results aren't pretty.

The movie follows a trio of heroes — a detective (Mark Ruffalo), a reporter (Robert Downey Jr.), and a cartoonist (Jake Gyllenhaal) — chasing down the hooded serial killer. And yeah, we all know they're going to fail, but Zodiac isn't about finding the truth. It's about the never-ending search and how that quest can change from dedication to obsession. That's especially true for Gyllenhaal's character, Robert Graysmith, a man who loses himself in the case because he just can't live with uncertainty.

Granted, if you're looking for a gorefest, you might want to pass on this film. This is a story about chasing after shadows and accepting the fact that you might never know all the answers.

Based on the novel by David Mitchell, Cloud Atlas is a big, messy, sprawling movie with a reach that exceeds its grasp. But while the movie is far from perfect, you've got to give it major points for ambition. This film with big ideas spans across millennia, from the 19th century to the post-apocalypse.

Featuring an incredible cast (Tom Hanks, Halle Berry, Hugo Weaving, Susan Sarandon, and Jim Broadbent, just to name a few), the film follows a small group of people as they live, die, and repeat their lives throughout history. The same actors appear in each new chapter, playing reincarnated souls of varying genders and races. But while faces change and the scenery transforms, every segment tackles the same theme in a brand new way.

Cloud Atlas is a movie about oppression — how, throughout time, the mighty have always tried to impose their will on the weak. The "good old days" don't really exist, as history is full of slavery, murderers, and corrupt corporations, not to mention power-hungry nurses and cannibal warlords. But while the powerful will continue to exercise a philosophy of "the weak are meat, and the strong do eat," there will always be a few good men and women who try to resist, no matter the time or place.

If we know one thing for sure about Damien Chazelle, it's that the man loves himself some jazz music. For proof, look no further than Whiplash, the director's breakout film. The movie stars Miles Teller as an ambitious young drummer named Andrew Neiman, a guy desperately hoping to join a prestigious band at the music conservatory he attends as a student. But if he wants to make the cut, first he has to impress Terence Fletcher, a snarling, swearing, cymbal-throwing conductor played by J.K. Simmons. This is not a man who's easily impressed.

Driven by his need for perfection, Neiman dedicates every waking hour to becoming the world's best jazz drummer, practicing so hard that his fingers bleed. Meanwhile, he burns every bridge and ruins every relationship in his life, all to achieve his goal of greatness. But here's the interesting thing about Whiplash. This isn't a movie where the main character eventually learns the error of his ways. Neiman only grows more and more obsessed with impressing Fletcher and becoming the next Buddy Rich. By the end of the film, it looks like he might achieve his dream at the cost of everything else in his life.

Sure, he's become a horrible person, but he's going to get his face on the Mt. Rushmore of jazz music. That's why Whiplash is such a fascinating film. It's all about the price of success — similar to Chazelle's La La Land — and it suggests that while you might become the greatest drummer who's ever lived, you'll probably have more fans than friends.

There are a lot of great movies out there about grief like Ordinary People and Manchester by the Sea. But the scariest might be Karyn Kusama's The Invitation. This is the ultimate dinner party-gone-wrong movie, one that'll have you sitting on the edge of your seat the entire time, screaming at the characters to get out of the house. Unfortunately, they won't listen — because they're far too polite.

The Invitation follows a guy named Will (Logan Marshall-Green), who's experienced a terrible tragedy that ruined his marriage. Now, he's received an invitation from his ex-wife Eden (Tammy Blanchard) for a get-together at her Hollywood Hills home. All the old gang's going to be there, and Will reluctantly agrees to attend. But when he arrives, he feels something is terribly wrong — probably because Eden won't stop talking about the weird cult she's just joined.

Or perhaps everything feels off because Will is still trying to cope with that tragedy from his past, an event that occurred in this very house. As his emotions come boiling to the top, Will must grapple with old wounds that never healed, while trying to convince the other guests — all too polite to question their hosts' odd behavior — that something weird is happening. Honestly, it's a nail-biter of a film that deals with pain, loss, and the power of social norms. Plus, it ends with one of the creepiest final shots in thriller history.

Written and directed by Woody Allen, Midnight in Paris finds Owen Wilson playing Gil Pender, an Allen stand-in who earns his paycheck writing screenplays. But despite his Hollywood success, Gil dreams of writing a great novel, something that might stand alongside the works of Ernest Hemingway and F. Scott Fitzgerald. In fact, he wishes that he lived back in the 1920s, so he could sit on the Seine drinking coffee and talking philosophy with the legendary members of the Lost Generation.

Then, during a trip to Paris, Gil's wish magically comes true. Stumbling through some sort of time portal, our hero finds himself back in the Jazz Age, where he actually gets to meet his literary idols. There's Hemingway (Corey Stoll), F. Scott and his wife Zelda (Tom Hiddleston and Alison Pill), not to mention Gertrude Stein (Kathy Bates) and Salvador Dali (Adrien Brody). But most importantly, he runs into Adriana (Marion Cotillard), a beautiful muse who immediately hits it off with the time-traveling screenwriter.

Midnight in Paris is a fantastical love letter to the past, but even though the film basks in the warm glow of memory, Woody Allen is totally aware that nostalgia is a tricky thing. As Gil soon learns, obsessing over the past is a guaranteed way to feel miserable in the present. No matter when you're from, life is always going to feel a little unfulfilling; stepping back in time is never going to help. As Glenn Whipp of the L.A. Times put it, "You'll never be satisfied with the here and now until you stop living in the past."

Can you imagine a world where the Nazis won World War II? Unfortunately, you don't have to. Instead, all you need to do is visit Indonesia. In the 1960s, death squads roamed the country, slaughtering an estimated 1.2 million people accused of being communists. These gangsters were never brought to justice. Instead, they became powerful figures in Indonesian society, bragging about their evil deeds and answering to no one ... until Joshua Oppenheimer showed up.

A filmmaker from Texas, Oppenheimer had a truly wild idea. He wanted these gangsters to tell their side of the story, but he didn't want to make your run-of-the-mill "talking heads" documentary. Instead, he had these mass murderers make their own movie, a recreation of their crimes involving dancing girls, film noir mobsters, and even a drag queen. All the while, Oppenheimer was creating a film of his own, a full-length behind-the-scenes featurette if you will, resulting in the most disturbing documentary ever made.

The Act of Killing digs deep into the nature of evil, focusing on the monsters who perpetrate mass genocide and how they justify their bloody behavior. The film is also a study in the nature of performance, of putting on an act for yourself and others. Thanks to their nightmare movie, we get to see how the killers view themselves. Plus, when one of the murderers — the smooth and smiling Anwar Congo — begins showing signs of guilt, we're forced to ask if he's being sincere or just playing for the camera. A gut-punch of a movie, The Act of Killing is equaled in intensity only by its sequel, The Look of Silence. Watch them back-to-back for the most devastating double feature of all-time.

If you've never seen a film by Alejandro Jodorowsky, well, you don't know what you're missing, and honestly, they're kind of hard to explain. This Chilean director gave the world titles like El Topo and The Holy Mountain, midnight movies injected with a mind-bending blend of sex, spirituality, and lots and lots of acid. Love or hate his avant-garde approach, you've got to admit the man has vision, one that won't bend to commercial markets or compromise itself for test audiences.

And that brings us to Dune, often described as the greatest movie never made. In the 1970s, Jodorowsky desperately wanted to bring Frank Herbert's classic novel to life in his own hallucinatory way, so he assembled a group of "spiritual warriors," a dream team including the likes of Pink Floyd, Mick Jagger, H.R. Giger, and Salvador Dali. With the help of these creative geniuses, Jodorowsky planned on crafting a movie that would make people feel like they were taking LSD, that would spark a spiritual revolution.

Needless to say, Jodorowsky's reach exceeded his grasp, and his dreams of Dune eventually crumbled into nothing. But while we never got a chance to watch the madman's magnum opus, we do have the next best thing: Jodorowsky's Dune. Using concept art and interviews with Jodorowsky himself, this brilliant documentary chronicles the failed film. It shows how Jodorowsky courted demanding stars like Orson Welles, created a world never before seen in sci-fi, and how his failure inspired movies like Alien and Star Wars. In short, Jodorowsky's Dune is a paean to the power of imagination and the need to dream big.

Warning: the less you know about Get Out, the better. If you want to keep completely spoiler-free, just know that writer-director Jordan Peele has crafted one of the greatest horror movies of the 2010s, one that surpassed all box office expectations and impressed nearly every critic on Earth. You should also know that Get Out is a movie about racism, but not the kind that involves rednecks, nooses, or burning crosses. Instead, Get Out deals with a kind of prejudice that's far subtler, that hides behind woke sentiments and white smiles.

Chris Washington (Daniel Kaluuya) is a black photographer dating a white woman (Allison Williams). She wants Chris to meet her parents (Bradley Whitford and Catherine Keener), but Chris isn't sure that's a good idea. He knows a thing or two about being a black guy in a white world. Nevertheless, Chris gives in and drives out to meet Mom and Dad at their secluded estate, and they certainly seem friendly, if a little too friendly. The dad gushes over Barack Obama, and her brother (Caleb Landry Jones) thinks Chris has the perfect beastly build to become an MMA fighter. With all these cringey compliments, we get the sense maybe these white liberals aren't quite as PC as they seem, and maybe that's true about more Americans than we think.

We won't give away any more of the plot, but rest assured, things get really scary really fast. The movie plays out like those horrific conspiracy classics from the '60s and '70s, like Rosemary's Baby or The Stepford Wives. With its ever-growing sense of dread, Peele's debut film is a brilliant satire of race relations in the U.S., while also featuring one of cinema's creepiest party scenes and a climax that ends with a gory explosion of anger and deer antlers.

Rape-and-revenge films aren't generally must-watch viewing, but Ms. 45 is a brutal rebuke to your typical exploitation flicks. Directed by Abel Ferrara, this thriller finds Zoë Lund playing Thana, a mute seamstress trying to survive the filthy streets of 1980s New York. This Big Apple is a dangerous place for women, and in just one day, Thana is violently raped by two different men on two separate occasions. But instead of going to the cops, Thana gets a gun and becomes an angel of vengeance, patrolling the streets and blasting pimps, thugs, and sleazebags who catcall when she walks by.

See, she's not hunting the guys who hurt her. She wants justice for women everywhere, and that means shooting any dude who crosses the line. Her body count gets higher and higher, until this lipstick-wearing serial killer decides it's time for one final bloodbath. Equal parts vigilante flick and horror film, Ms. 45 is goofty, gritty, and grotesque. And while it's got all the trappings of an exploitation flick, it's really a big middle finger to the entire genre. This isn't about leering at women as they're violently assaulted. It's about Dirty Harry in a dress, finally striking back at a city full of creeps.

After a series of acting disasters, Ben Affleck finally got his second wind when he stepped behind the camera for Gone Baby Gone. Based on the novel by Dennis Lehane, this 2007 drama finds Casey Affleck and Michelle Monaghan as Patrick Kenzie and Angie Gennaro, romantic partners and private investigators hired to find a missing girl. As they dig deeper into the case, they discover a painful secret, and Patrick is forced to make one of the trickiest decisions a movie detective has ever had to make.

Shot in Boston, the movie is inseparable from the city, and the location adds so much depth and desperation to the story unfolding onscreen. The film also features one of Casey Affleck's best performances as the conflicted investigator. But at the heart of this film, Gone Baby Gone is about how our decisions can save a life or tear everything down, and it also grapples with that tricky line between what's right and what's wrong. Ultimately, it's a film about guilt, as Patrick weighs whether he made the right choice, making this one of the most thoughtful mysteries ever made.

Directed by Chris Morris, Four Lions is one of the smartest and most shocking comedies to ever hit the silver screen. This British flick focuses on a group of London-based jihadists led by the oddly likable Omar (Riz Ahmed), but unfortunately for this sweet suicide bomber, he's the only semi-intelligent one in his group. His crew is made up of psychos and oddballs, and dealing with them is no easy to task, especially since they think the best ways to bring down Western civilization include strapping bombs onto birds, attacking peaceful mosques, or blowing up the internet.

Yeah, it's both a silly and surprising premise, and it works so well because Four Lions expertly balances an incredibly sensitive subject. On one hand, the film mercilessly mocks these would-be bombers as they try to outsmart the English authorities in the most idiotic ways possible. On the other hand, it shows that no matter how stupid you are to strap on a suicide vest, the consequences are still very real. The film also does an incredible job of getting audiences to sympathize with Omar. He's a friendly guy who loves his family ... but he also wants to kill a whole bunch of people. The whole movie walks that fine line between comedy and tragedy, farce and fear, until the ending comes, and we're not laughing anymore.

Based on the novel by Lionel Shriver, We Need to Talk About Kevin is a dark and disturbing film with all the trappings of a drama. But deep down in its psychopathic heart, this is a horror film about the terrors of raising a child and what can go wrong when you're a parent.

Directed by Lynne Ramsay, this foreboding film finds Tilda Swinton giving the exasperated and devastated performance of a lifetime as Eva Khatchadourian, a mother with a monster for a son. Played by three different actors (but primarily an eerie Ezra Miller), Kevin seems a little bit off from birth. There's something wrong with this kid's brain, and while he charms the rest of the world, this little sociopath truly hates his mother and wants to make her life miserable.

But whose fault is that exactly? Was Kevin born this way? Or does Eva deserve the blame for being a mother who wasn't exactly thrilled to have a son? When Kevin finally does something truly evil, Eva is forced to look back at her life and question whether her own insecurities and hatred turned Kevin into something awful. It's a chilling examination of nature vs. nurture, an insightful look into the trauma of parenting, and it will definitely make anyone think twice before having kids.

Under the Skin might lure moviegoers in with a naked Scarlett Johansson, but don't be fooled. This 2014 film is a terrifying nightmare and one of the greatest horror films ever made. Directed by Jonathan Glazer, the sexiness gives way to something completely foreign and alien, which makes sense as Johansson is playing a being from another world. She roams the streets at night — wearing human clothes and human skin — luring unsuspecting men back to an empty house where something unspeakable happens. It's the kind of stuff that goes down in our very worst dreams, only this time it's accompanied by one of the most unsettling scores ever composed for film, courtesy of Mica Levi.

But after seducing so many men to their doom (for reasons we never truly understand), Johansson's alien character begins developing human emotions. She desires to eat and explore and connect with other people, but soon enough, this predator finds herself prey in a world that's cold, cruel, and alien. Johansson gives the performance of a lifetime here, and Glazer creates scenes that are so disturbing — the beach scene, the scenes involving a deformed man, anytime a guy is taken back to Johansson's base — that they far surpass anything seen in a slasher flick. Glazer also employed guerrilla-style filmmaking by filming real men as they unknowingly interacted with Johansson, which gives the whole film a sense of realism and a sense that something is creeping up and getting ready to drag you down into the darkness at any moment.    

Widely hailed as the scariest film of 2018, Hereditary is far more than a freaky flick about cults, seances, and demonic possessions. It's a story about family and fate, two of the scariest concepts in the history of man. Written and directed by Ari Aster, Hereditary tells the story of the Graham family. The matriarch of the Graham clan has recently passed, and her relatives are barely hanging together. It doesn't help that there seems to be a sinister force at work, moving the family around like they're merely dolls in a miniature house for some evil scheme.

It would be a huge disservice to reveal too much about the plot, but we do have to sing the praises of Toni Collette as Annie, a woman who alternates between extreme grief and homicidal rage. As her family life and sanity crumble around her, Annie struggles to save her children while threatening them at the exact same time. And it's her incredible acting abilities that lend so much horror to the terrifying theme of the story — that free will is just an illusion. According to Hereditary, we're all just products of our family, whether that's the home we were raised in or our DNA. Whether you're dealing with mental illness passed through the genes or demons that have haunted your family for decades, everyone can relate to the stomach-churning horror of Hereditary.