Scarecrow’s Favorites of the 2010s #51-100

Since 2010 a lot’s changed here at Scarecrow. We opened our screening room in 2013, became a non-profit in 2014, started our Silver Screeners, Outdoor Movies at Magnuson, and Children’s Hour series, and a lot more. But mostly what we did was add to our vast catalog. We don’t have the exact numbers, but we estimate that Scarecrow Video brought in roughly 40,000 new rental titles in the last decade, increasing our total catalog to over 135,000 individual titles. We figured that since we’re so obsessive about our movies, the best way to celebrate that was to make a list. We had some pretty simple criteria for what could go on that list. It could be anything that came out in the last decade that was a feature film or a long-form, contained story. So open-ended TV shows wouldn’t count (that’s a list for another time), but a mini-series might. Each of our staff members made a ranked top 25 list, and the titles were given a score based on their ranking, and their point totals determined their spots on our list. We think the breadth of this list matches the breadth of our catalog, with narrative films and documentaries from all over the world, in multiple languages, about all kinds of subjects, from filmmakers of all kinds. It’s not just a list of our favorites but a quick scan of what made movies so exciting in the last ten years. So with no more ado, we proudly present Scarecrow’s Favorites of the 2010s!

51. SPIDER MAN: INTO THE SPIDER-VERSE (2018, Bob Persichetti and Peter Ramsey and Rodney Rothman)

This crazy ride pushes the envelope of what a mainstream narrative animated film is allowed to do. It verges on the experimental and succeeds with every over reach and chance that it takes.  The style, the framing and all the little visual extras make it feel like a comic book has come to life in front of your eyes and it is at the same time what all good cinema should be. (Wil)


52. KEDI (2016, Ceyda Torun)

The ancient streets of Istanbul have always been busy with the clatter of commerce mixed with the din of daily life. And the cats have always made those streets their home. Kedi follows seven such cats as they go about their day, whimsically interacting with the humans who make it a point to care for them. This is a bond that is centuries old, and the community it fosters is a delight to discover (Rich)


53. UPSTREAM COLOR (2013, Shane Carruth)

A complex system has evolved. A thief is stealing lives with larvae.  Pigs are hosts, and blue orchids form a hypnotic drug.  The cycle must be broken. (Leo)


54. THE DUKE OF BURGUNDY (2014, Peter Strickland)

A luxuriant, tactile expression of passions and preoccupations, and so cocooned in its hyperspecific, smothering eroticism that it becomes suddenly, deeply moving when it emerges. Absolutely transcends its Eurocore cinema roots to say more about love and romantic partnership than just about any recent film. (Matt)


55. YOUNG ADULT (2011, Jason Reitman)

For most of the film, the schtick seems to be that failing young adult novelist Mavis Gary is attempting to distract herself from her usual self-destruction by going nuclear and stalking her happily-married high school ex- who’s just become a new father. But there’s something much darker at the nut of this. Diablo Cody’s script crackles with hilarity, but the laughs become increasingly uncomfortable and it’s ultimately Theron’s portrayal of someone deeply damaged by trauma that lingers most after the credits roll. (John)


56. HER (2013, Spike Jonze)

Joaquin Phoenix, Scarlett Johansen and Spike Jonez make us believe that a man falling in love with an AI is not only not silly, but important and heartwarming and heartbreaking. It is at its core about being a person and loving and hurting and changing. (Wil)


57. ONLY LOVERS LEFT ALIVE (2013, Jim Jarmusch)

Something that sounds frivolous (a window into the lives of an ages-old vampire couple) ends up being one of Jim Jarmusch’s most mature works. His delicate portrayal of their epic love affair is framed with beautiful location shots (Tangier and Detroit are treated with equal reverence). The art, music, and literature they rely on to stave off ennui are just as vital as the blood they’re constantly hustling for, and Jarmusch’s references to these are all breadcrumbs worth following. (John)


58. RAW (2016, Julia Ducournau)

While I must admit that I impulsively covered my eyes with a blanket and curled up into a ball a few times over the course of my first watching of Raw, I urge you to keep your eyes open and unobstructed for as much of it as you can. And sure, you might think a story about a vegetarian woman who goes to veterinary school and develops a disturbing taste for flesh isn’t your thing, but she never expected to love it so much either. Besides, what it’s really about is repressing desire to the point of dangerous destruction, and the lies we inherit that have been designed to hide who we truly are. (Sage)


59. LOGAN (2017, James Mangold)

Director James Mangold gives us the ultraviolent, R-rated Wolverine movie we’ve been craving. Hugh Jackman imbues the character of Logan/Wolverine with a deep world-weariness and resignation. A dusty road-movie/western/samurai/comic book mashup. And that last shot gets me choked up every time. (Kevin C)


60. FRANCES HA (2012, Noah Baumbach)

“It’s that thing when you’re with someone, and you love them and they know it, and they love you and you know it—but it’s at a party, and you’re both talking to other people, and you’re laughing and shining, and you look across the room and catch each other’s eyes…It’s funny and sad, but only because this life will end, and it’s this secret world that exists right there in public, unnoticed…” This movie is a perfect movie about best friends, being an adult, being selfish, wanting love, wanting to lean on someone, wanting to possess someone, wanting someone to take care of you, wanting to change yourself, wanting to be independent, dancing, getting drunk, David Bowie. I can’t review it, I just can’t! Frances Ha is perfect for me, and maybe it can also be perfect for you. (Emalie)


61. DOGTOOTH (2009, Yorgos Lanthimos)

A surreal peek into the lives of a family whose patriarch has kept the children isolated in their mountain home for their entire lives. He seeks to control every detail of their existence and goes to great lengths to keep them unaware of the outside world. The film shifts between comic absurdity and WTF brutality and is quite a ride, but ultimately suggests that our desire to overcome tyranny is innate. (John)


62. THE GRANDMASTER (2013, Wong Kar-wai)

Yes, it’s an Ip Man movie but not one in the recent series you might be thinking of. This sweeping cinematic biopic plays out more like a grand opera than a flips-and-chops fight film. That being said, the rain battle scene (especially in the slow motion parts) is possibly the coolest thing I’ve ever seen in any Kung Fu flick. Make sure to see the director’s cut if you can. Incredible filmmaking by a master craftsman. (Jensen)


63. O.J.: MADE IN AMERICA (2016, Ezra Edelman)

Not only an in-depth investigation of “The Trial Of The Century” and its wild white Bronco chases, but also an interrogation of this country’s relationship to sports, hero worship, race and justice. The trial was twenty years ago, yet its fallout remains relevant today. (Kevin C)


64. BAD BLACK (2016, Nabwana I.G.G.)

See a community represent itself onscreen simply because it must, the only way it knows how, with no regard for your ideas of narrative or aesthetic convention. Enter a world where you can learn to be a Commando from a little kid in pink crocs named Wesley Snipes. Supa Action. Wakaliwood Forever. (Matt)


65. TAKE SHELTER (2011, Jeff Nichols)

Michael Shannon and writer/director Jeff Nichols are consistently a can’t-miss combo, but this film is particularly striking. Shannon portrays Curtis, a man seeking to unravel the mystery of his sudden and vivid apocalyptic visons. The source could be sinister forces, the gift of precognition, or the onset of inhereted schizophrenia. Or it could all just be a metaphor for the fear of loss that comes with loving something dearly. You’ll have to watch to find out. An odd tale told very well. (John)


66. MEEK’S CUTOFF (2010, Kelly Reichardt)

Kelly Reichardt’s work should be consumed more often by more people, and if you’re not yet familiar with her movies, Meek’s Cutoff is the one to start with. Following a group of lost settlers on a slow and demoralizing journey through the Oregon desert, it offers a sobering critique of westward expansion. With every shot considered and relevant, sparse and affecting dialogue, and unwavering dedication to realism and subversion of the Western genre, Meek’s Cutoff continues to inform the way I watch movies.  (Sage)


67. I, DANIEL BLAKE (2016, Ken Loach)

Ken Loach, one of the most important filmmakers of our time, came out of his attempted retirement to make I, Daniel Blake.  Loach’s films shine a light into those dark corners of lives that we try not to think too much about, but he does it with characters that are achingly beautiful in their humanity – proving the point that the personal is very much political.  Daniel Blake turns its gaze on the privatization of health care, and the extremes of a bureaucratic system that ends up serving only itself.  However, it is really the touching relationship between the two main characters, Daniel and Katie, played by two relatively unknown actors, Dave Johns and Hayley Squires, that really drives the movie and sticks with you long after the credits have rolled. (Kate)



The goofy ‘90s action sci-fi series about zombie-super-soldiers has been improbably resuscitated as a surreal arthouse horror-action-noir. Scott Adkins stars as a man who wakes up in the hospital remembering little but the man who murdered his wife and daughter – original series hero Luc Deveraux (a scary, weathered Jean-Claude Van Damme). Director John Hyams seems more influenced by Gaspar Noe and David Lynch mind trips than the goofy Roland Emmerich movie he’s sequelizing, but that doesn’t get in the way of outstanding action sequences including gun fights, car chases and martial arts that put most studio action movies to shame. (Bryan)



Unnatural death, grief, racism, and rebirth through violence are pretty much American staples of cinema, actually defining us as a culture for many outside of the states. Leave it to an Irish playwright to capture all of those qualities in a surprising and unexpected way, in a story that might as well have been written by Raymond Carver. He crafts an intense yet at times bitterly hilarious character study of people desperately trying to find their way forward past whatever pain they can’t let go of. Humanistic in a way that most American films could never accomplish due to the fact that it is really, really hard to write actual characters as opposed to exposition dumping cyphers, Martin McDonagh achieves greatness in his script by constantly subverting our expectations for any easy answers. In the end, as 2 disparate people drive off together to an uncertain future, the American movie would just be beginning. (Jamie)


70. CAROL (2015, Todd Haynes)

About halfway through Carol, Therese (Rooney Mara) and Carol (Cate Blanchett) are on their road trip in a little motel room. Therese puts on a record with an excited little grin that only we see. She crawls back to the coffee table (they’re sitting on the floor). Carol is trying on perfume. “Smell that,” she says, and they draw their faces to each other’s necks for just a beat too long, and then lean back with the tiniest of uncertain sideways glances, a microexpression of embarrassment and excitement. Therese immediately looks away from Carol and takes a drink, and Carol breaks the tension by raising her glass and making a joke toast. In five or six seconds these gestures reveal the power dynamic between a more experienced lover and a younger pursuit, the simultaneous eagerness and trepidation that comes with wanting to be with another person, and the needs of both of these women to protect themselves emotionally. I don’t know what it was like to be a lesbian woman in the 1950s, but I do know what it feels like to be alone with someone I know I’m falling in love with, and who I want to fall in love with me, and its these moments that make this movie transcendent. (Matt)


71. I AM NOT A WITCH (2017, Rungano Nyoni)

Accused of witchcraft and forced to pick between living in a government-controlled labor camp or being turned into a goat, a young Zambian girl goes with the former. Her movements are restricted by a ribbon attached to a large spool, and she is exploited and tormented–yet by the movie’s conclusion, there is hope to be gleaned. Presented to us with elegant cinematography and skillfully utilized humor, I Am Not A Witch condemns misogyny and abuse, along with the distressing harmfulness of opportunists and the absurdities of tourism. (Sage)


72. SHOPLIFTERS (Hirokazu Kore-eda)

Hirokazu Kore-eda’s films have shown his deftness in directing closely observed family dramas. Shoplifters introduces us to a working-poor, affectionate chosen family comfortable with morally questionable means of survival. When they abscond with a young girl from her abusive home, it opens questions of what defines criminality and who deserves the role of parent. (Megan)


73. RUMBLE: THE INDIAN WHO ROCKED THE WORLD (2016, Catherine Bainbridge & Alfonso Maiorana)

I keep a running list of movies that I think all Americans should be required to see. This is now top of that list. This thought-provoking documentary succeeded in not only highlighting the deficit in my history education – both political and cultural – but did so with an incredibly eclectic and poignant soundtrack. I left feeling in equal part exhilarated and enraged, and ultimately hopeful that through the power of film and music, we can learn from past mistakes. So open your minds and turn the volume up to 11. (Kate)


74. SILENCE (2016, Martin Scorsese)

Martin Scorsese’s career-long exploration of faith and commitment reaches perhaps its zenith in an epic tale of two Jesuit priests who travel to 17th century feudal Japan to find their mentor. At times terrifying, humanistic, & suspenseful, it’s also, visually and spiritually, Scorsese’s most beautiful film. (Mark)


75. CARLOS (2010, Olivier Assayas)

Carlos the Jackal is the rock star of international terrorism. This is the story of a man compelled to commit horrible crimes because he had a very specific political cause: himself. A grenade-tossing small-time Marxist became a legend by commodifying armed struggle as the epitome of counterculture cool, a media event instead of a clandestine communique. (Matt)


76. WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT KEVIN (2011, Lynne Ramsay)

“What if I don’t fall in love with my baby?” is a common, often unspoken fear for new mothers. Lynne Ramsay’s adaptation of a book that spoke to the epidemic of school violence takes a fascinating turn towards horror by portraying a mother’s dissolution of self, loss of autonomy, and sole culpability for her son’s actions in the eyes of her community. (Megan)


77. YOUR NAME (2016, Makoto Shinkai)

Logic be damned in this wonderful and moving coming-of-age story. Two teenagers from different parts of Japan suddenly find themselves uncontrollably swapping bodies each night they go to sleep. This leads to the typical high school complications, but when they start to have feelings for each other and decide to meet in person, neither are prepared for what is to come. This is, without a doubt, one the finest and most heartfelt animated movies ever made; and it’s not hard to understand why it is currently Japan’s second highest grossing domestic film. (Rich)



While paying tribute to early film pioneer Alice Guy-Blaché, this documentary also leads one to reflect on how easily history can be re-written to favor those in power. As the creative force behind over 1,000 films, it’s disconcerting to learn how many of these movies were attributed to men in her crew. But Guy-Blaché never stopped fighting to get the recognition she deserved.  It was her ingenuity and creative drive in the early days of filmmaking that laid the foundation upon which many, many male filmmakers would build their reputations. This film works to right this egregious wrong as the time is long overdue for Alice Guy-Blaché to be acknowledged as the founder of narrative filmmaking.  (Kate)


79. BLINDSPOTTING (2018, Carlos López Estrada)

Collin is a black convicted felon — a fact of which he is reminded often — and he’s working to make it through his probation and improve his life. Along his journey, he drinks $10 “green juice,” works a moving job with his hot-headed best friend in gentrification-swamped Oakland, and witnesses an unjust police shooting that haunts him to the point of nightmares and hallucinations. Blindspotting’s impeccable rhythm, deft script and sharp humor weave together the pressing issues it tackles with a call to re-train our brains, identify our blindspots, and, in the words of Collin during his final, enthralling freestyle rap, “see both pictures.” (Sage)


80. MOTHER! (2017, Darren Aronofsky)

If you’ve ever been a woman with anxiety but also a crippling habit of putting yourself last, and your ego-driven “artist” boyfriend throws a party at your mansion, and you have to keep telling people to stop leaning on the sink, and you give and give and give and you even give your newborn baby but it’s never enough, and everyone is still physically grabbing for more while somehow still worshipping the man that got you into this nightmare — then Aronofsky’s mother! is for you. One long, beautiful, heart-wrenching panic attack. (Emalie)


81. HOUSE OF PLEASURES (2011, Bertrand Bonello)

A surreal fever-dream portrait of a turn-of-the-century Parisian brothel, this is also an intensely political film about feminism, sex and sex work, and gazes of cinematic pleasure. It’s also just a wild piece of filmmaking, layered with deliberate anachronism and virtuoso cinematography, not to mention the killer soundtrack. (Matt)


82. DUNKIRK (2017, Christopher Nolan)

In late May of 1940, the Allies were forced to the beachhead of Dunkirk after the failed defense of France. Caught between the Atlantic and approaching German forces, what remained of Britain’s total fighting power, over 300,000 men, waited for rescue or annihilation.  The story is well known. Instead of rehashing the miraculous denouement, the film focuses on the uncertainty and tension of the situation. Director Christopher Nolan does this by choosing to emphasize visual composition and sound over dialogue and narrative to create a visceral, cinematic experience. This is made more challenging as it is told from three different temporal perspectives. What you are left with is a stunning work of visual art. (Rich)


83. BIRDMAN OR (THE UNEXPECTED VIRTUE OF IGNORANCE) (2014, Alejandro González Iñárritu)

I had the distinct pleasure of seeing this one at The Neptune with the live score, a drums-only masterpiece in my opinion, by Antonio Sánchez (Chick Corea Trio, Pat Methany Group and more) and it blew my mind. He did this thing with the butt end of the stick on the cymbal and it sounded like a banshee shrieking from hell. And like that score, the acting in this film is so fresh and weird and magical. Simultaneously grimy and whimsical. Perfect. (Jensen)


84. GRAVITY (2013, Alfonso Cuaron)

The grand spectacle of this movie is what really got people’s attention –  the technical achievements and the wild location, the falling domino after falling domino of mishaps and disasters and a woman’s will to survive. But Cuaron’s virtuoso touch extends deeper, making her story against the harshest and most uncaring that nature has to offer compelling in ways that movies of this type rarely achieve. (Wil)



Bela Tarr in northern China. This four-hour epic of human misery charts a single fateful day in the lives of four residents of an unnamed decaying Chinese industrial city. As their lives spiral downward quickly, they seek to escape to Manzhouli, fascinated with a reported elephant that stands motionless in its cage, seemingly impassive to the outside world. But can they really escape the oppressive system that has victimized them and everyone around them? (Joel)


86. BELLFLOWER (2011, Evan Glodell)

In Bellflower, Evan Glodell pays tribute to Mad Max, DIY, and the mania that comes with all-consuming heartbreak. Gorgeously filmed on a shoestring budget with Frankenstein’d vintage cameras, this drama throws the tenderness of new love and best friendship into a spiral of surreal violence. (Emalie)


87. CHASING ICE (2012, Jeff Orlowski)

With climate change set to be the issue for the next decade (and beyond), this documentary was sounding that alarm early in the last decade. The film follows environmental photographer James Balog in creating The Extreme Ice Survey, a project to document the glacial destruction that is unfolding (and still is). The images and footage from the project are at once awe-inspiring and heartbreaking. When an issue like climate change can feel so overwhelming, this documentary succeeds in making it very personal. As the ceaselessly driven Balog reflects, “I want to be able to say [to my daughters], ‘Guys, I did everything I knew how to do.’” Can we say the same?  (Kate)


88. NOCTURAMA (2016, Bertrand Bonello)

A bunch of leftist teenagers plant bombs all over Paris and hide out overnight in a closed-down shopping mall. This microcosmic examination of modern political and existential angst plays like an experimental theater remake of Dawn of the Dead, complete with a crushingly violent climax. (Matt)


89. GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY (2014, James Gunn)

The Marvel Universe as populated by Jack Kirby and Stan Lee (et al) is filled with strange, goofy and fantastical creations, to the point of overflowing. Bright colors, weird outfits and an alien on every block. With this bright, wild, outrageous and decidedly fantastical joyride James Gunn proves that something based on a comic book doesn’t have to be ashamed, but in fact should revel in the chance to have fun. (Wil)


90. POETRY (2010, Lee Chang-dong)

Mija, who is entangled in a cover-up involving crimes her intolerable grandson committed with his horrible friends that resulted in the death of a girl, takes a poetry class and is assigned the task of writing a single poem–an endeavor that proves to be a difficult one. As she searches for poetic inspiration, Mija is saddled with burdens that stem from the assumptions of care those in her life thrust upon her with gross nonchalance. Poetry explores responsibility, justice, empathy, perpetuated shame, and love in complex and stunning fashion. (Sage)


91. NEBRASKA (2013, Alexander Payne)

All those articles people are busy writing these days about rural White America in decline and the epidemic of so-called “deaths of despair” were absolutely scooped by this movie. It’s a loving and honest portrait of dispossession, in the vein of the dust bowl photography of the 1930s. The obvious subject is Bruce Dern’s character, whose lifelong stoicism is now cleanly segueing into senility, but the theme of loss echoes through the frame in every shot: imagery from small towns which seem to have been drained of something essential, yet remain stubbornly beautiful. (Krishanu)


92. CREED (2015, Ryan Coogler)

There was no need or demand for a new Rocky movie. Sylvester Stallone had retired the character gracefully with 2006’s Rocky Balboa. Then along comes director Ryan Coogler, fresh off the Sundance hit Fruitvale Station, wanting to tell this story about the son of adversary-turned-friend Apollo Creed finding Rocky and convincing him to be his trainer. Without much familiarity with the Rocky saga it’s still a moving relationship drama, a thrilling sports movie and a triumph of directorial style (there are a few long takes that will take your breath away). But for those of us who grew up watching the earlier movies it’s a straight up miracle. (Bryan)


93. ZAMA (2017, Lucrecia Martel)

Lucrecia Martel’s films portray distinct periods of Argentina’s recent history, showing how economic events have affected the country socially. She often returns to the theme of stagnation–one of her films translates literally to The Swamp. In Zama, she captures a more remote history, using an extremely dry wit to roast the isolation and impotency of Don Diego de Zama, an official left behind in Argentina during the waning days of the Spanish Empire. (Megan)


94. CALL ME BY YOUR NAME (2017, Luca Guadagnino)

James Ivory wrote the screenplay for Call Me By Your Name, and echoes of his own films rebound in this ethereal story of two lovers mismatched in age and temperament. Elio at times seems even younger than 17, and his vulnerability makes the seven years between him and grad student Oliver disconcerting. But time seems lost in the lush natural beauty and nearly tangible warm light of the Italian countryside. This film is a fantasy, a wish, what memories are reshaped into when looking back on a summer with nothing to do but fall in love with someone you never expected. (Megan)


95. AMAZING GRACE (2018, Alan Elliott and Sydney Pollack)

Even if it wasn’t a previously lost film by a sometimes serviceable director, it’s a concert film. And with rare exceptions, concert films are often a mixed bag. The truly transcendent ones, the ones that make you feel like you’re there, are even rarer. And then, you have Amazing Grace, which not only transports you to a gospel church in 1972 Los Angeles but instills the feeling of a spiritual existence right smack into your very soul. You need not be religious to enjoy this, or to get that feeling. You just need to hear Aretha’s voice, and know what she’s singing about, and look in her eyes and see those tiny puddles of tears and know that her faith and passion are as real as any physical object. Lightning in a bottle, this one. (Mark)


96. DAWSON CITY: FROZEN TIME (2016, Bill Morrison)

It’s every film lover’s dream to learn that a movie believed to have been lost forever has been found. This documentary takes us to the northern Yukon town of Dawson City – a former gold rush town that was the end of the line for films during the early 20th century. It is also the town where, due to permafrost and sheer fate, thousands of reels of film were discovered. Director Bill Morrison avoids narration providing pertinent information through subtitles, which echoes back to that silent era and leaves plenty of space to get lost in reflections and the haunting images unearthed after all these years.  (Kate)


97. FIRST REFORMED (2018, Paul Schrader)

Writer/director Paul Schrader’s deep dive into the life of Reverend Ernst Toller (terrifically played by Ethan Hawke whose face is a mask of pain and unease throughout) and his struggles after connecting with an environmental activist who then commits suicide. The activist’s cause and his pregnant widow suddenly loom large in Toller’s life and juggling them along with his alcoholism, health problems and seemingly daily indignities creates an incredibly compelling mounting tension. While all of this is cloaked in broad themes like faith and our dying planet, it feels like the story is more of a thought exercise by Schrader to find hope in humanity as it strays further and further from the path toward enlightenment. (John)


98. GIRLHOOD (2014, Céline Sciamma)

When we talk about women needing to have more of a presence in the film industries, this is exactly the type of movie of which we need to see so, so much more. How many coming-of-age, caught-up-in-gang-culture movies have we seen with a female protagonist? Very, very few. Director Sciamma hits the ground running with an incredible opening sequence (roughly the first six minutes) that manages to encapsulate all of the themes that will play out in the movie. But it is newcomer Karidja Touré as Marieme that will keep you riveted. Her character functions much as Henry Hill did in Goodfellas, being our outside eyes into a world not often seen – but this time it’s through the female lens.  (Kate)


99. LA LA LAND (2016, Damien Chazelle)

Hollywood Musicals usually relied on people needing to feel uplifted, so the stories usually progressed as such, with the happy ending a given. Not so much with Chazelle’s musical, which exists in a world that accepts that fact, dwells in it at times, yet never intends to give that to you, because that would never happen in La La Land’s reality. Relationships are hard work the movie says, almost as hard as making a contemporary musical that can work both sides of the aisle, magical reality merged with a world weary actualized reality. Dreams have consequences, and the movie allows you to spend some time as if they don’t. Everyone dances and sings their feelings, and it’s truly beautiful and joyful, but it doesn’t last. By the time it’s over you are immediately sorry the real world awaits you. (Jamie)


100. GONE GIRL (2014, David Fincher)

Gone Girl, adapted from Gillian Flynn’s mystery novel of the same name, is worth it for Rosamund Pike’s “cool girl” monologue alone. “Cool girls are above all hot. Hot and understanding. Cool Girls never get angry; they only smile in a chagrined, loving manner and let their men do whatever they want. Go ahead, shit on me, I don’t mind, I’m the Cool Girl.Ben Affleck wakes up to find his wife missing with all leads pointing to him as the main suspect. Does he deserve it? What constitutes perfect femininity, the perfect “Cool Girl,” and if pushed too far what could she become? (Emalie)




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