120 Best Films That Center BIPOC Experiences

To plenty of countries around the globe, democracy has become so ubiquitous that we forget it’s relatively new, at least relative to the rest of human history. Bhutan is one of the last countries that became a democracy, and writer-director Pawo Choyning Dorji chose to depict a slice of how they made the shift in The Monk and the Gun. As Tashi sets out to obtain two weapons for his mentor, and Ron seeks a specific antique gun, Dorji presents slice-of-life moments of the beautiful Bhutan countryside, intercut with the subtle ways tradition still persists amidst modernity, and the funny ways change can clash with culture. It’s no wonder The Monk and the Gun was chosen as the Bhutanese entry for the Best International Feature at the 96th Academy Awards.

To those unfamiliar with Filipino folklore, some of the scenes in Rain (2019) might feel kooky, with horse heads and giant eggs and the personification of a typhoon popping up occasionally in between Maya’s quest for love. Even fans of Filipino romantic dramas and love teams might be taken aback by the last third of the film, which doesn’t take the usual route in the genre. But these eccentric choices work to characterize Maya as someone who loves being in love, as someone who grew up on mythology and fantasy to cope with the difficulties of life, as someone who nevertheless keeps that belief despite the terribleness of the mundane, the mismanaged inconveniences that pile up, and, of course, the multiple heartbreaks that she faces. It may be strange and unexpected, but Ulan is just one of the most unique Filipino romances ever created.

There are three threads in Daughters that directors Natalie Rae and Angela Patton weave beautifully together. The first thread follows the incarcerated men who gather every week to talk about fatherhood, mostly, because of the program that they’re in, but also: masculinity, race, systemic poverty, social mobility, and the skewed prison system in America. The discussions are raw and enlightening. “This isn’t normal, that we’re all in here,” one of the men wisely says, and it feels special to witness that moment of shared empowerment. The second thread follows the daughters, whose ages range from 5 to 15. In line with the film’s honesty, it shows us girls who miss their fathers and girls who don’t; girls who know everything about them and those who can’t even remember their faces. One is oblivious, the other suicidal. This part is enlightening in a different way: you hope the kids are too young to realize what’s going on, but that’s almost never the case. The final thread is where the two others meet: it offers the most heartbreaking parts of the film, but also the most beautiful. Both parties dress up, take pictures, move on the dancefloor, and say their inevitable goodbyes, and all this is captured in the same darklit, grainy color as the film cameras the fathers and daughters are given to document the dance. The direction and editing is artistic, but never in a gratuitious way. Instead, like other parts of the film, it’s filled with gentleness and empathy.

A foreign film on par with City of God, and carrying its heritage of naturalistic performances and raw stories. Sin Nombre will take you into a world filled with gut wrenching violence, heart-breaking loss, and non-stop suspense. And while definitely a tough watch, it reports the horrors of immigration with humane and sometimes hopeful outlook.

The profound and epic redemption in this movie will leave you thinking about it for days.

It’s hard to pin point exactly what makes this movie so good. It’s an all-around “movie” movie. I think it can be called a buddy comedy because it is about two best friends who are also movers. It’s about their day-to-day, their families and their relationships. They’re both from the underclass of Oakland, and one of them is black, the other is white. And that’s where it stops being a comedy and becomes a more hard-hitting film. It illustrates gentrification better than any other movie I’ve ever seen. It has relevant and striking commentary on the main characters’ race, upbringing, and identity. But at the end of the day, it has a great plot, and for the most part it’s an easy-flowing movie. It’s half entertainment, half social commentary, and both parts are equally well-done. It’s like movie unicorn, and it’s perfection. One of the two friends is played by Daveed Diggs, who you might know from Hamilton.

Jessica Chastain and Oscar Isaac star in this slow-burning but impeccable crime thriller.

Abel Morales (Isaac) owns a fuel distribution company in 1980s New York. His competitors are violent and corrupt, and the feds are after him. The temptation to resort to unlawful methods is high, especially that his wife (Chastain) is the daughter of a mobster.

A Most Violent Year is about how this temptation of corruption unfolds and whether Abel will surrender to it or not.

Three half-Puerto-Rican, half-white boys grow up in suburban New York in this personal movie shot on stunning 16mm film.

This movie follows the boys, often literally with the camera behind their backs, as their parents’ relationship goes through turmoil. The kids are often left unattended and have to fend for themselves. The beauty of We the Animals is illustrating how they grow-up swinging between the angry character of their father and the protective nature of their mother.

This is one of the best movies I’ve seen in a long time, and I think I loved it so much because I was able to relate and feel for the main character (one of the boys). I really hope you will too.

This beautiful drama is set over a summer in New York State. Kathy and her son Cody drive to her estranged sister’s house, who had just passed. Kathy plans to quickly sell the house and go back to her normal life but that doesn’t happen when she learns that her sister was a hoarder. Forced to spend more time cleaning the house, her son sparks a friendship with the next-door neighbor, an old Korean War veteran. 

Now, I know what you’re thinking, Gran Torino, right? The initial set up is the same but in Driveways is much more realistic, and its characters don’t really need to be redeemed (no one is screaming “get off my lawn” with a shotgun). In fact, the actor who plays the old man, the fantastic Brian Dennehy, brings so much kindness and heart to the story. It ended up his last movie before his passing, and what a beautiful farewell his performance is.

This small-scale but incredibly fun 88-minute drama from 2003 is about a group of Latino teenagers who grow up in New York’s Lower East Side.

Victor lives with his eccentric grandmother, which sometimes gets in the way of him pursuing Judy, his dream girl.

The actor who plays Victor is called Victor Rasuk, the one who plays Judy is called Judy Marte. This is a film so personal that both main characters needed to be named after the actors who play them.

This startling debut from Chinese director Bi Gan is a mesmerizing synthesis of cinema and poetry. A man searching for his nephew goes on a journey that blurs the boundaries between time and space, and dreams and reality. All this is expressed through gorgeous and understated camerawork reminiscent of Apichatpong Weerasethakul’s languorous lens. However, Bi Gan’s style is all his own, including spectacular long takes whose sophistication and complexity only become apparent once they are done. 

Kaili Blues’ hypnotic aesthetics are like a mud bath for you to soak and luxuriate in. There are no easy answers for putting together its past/present/future puzzle-box, and it’s best to leave the deconstructions for later viewings as repeated trips to Bi Gan’s dreamy recreation of his hometown will reveal even more.