Movies & TV Released in The 2010s

The Royal Hotel sees Hanna (Julia Garner) and Liv (Jessica Henwick) resorting to take up a dire live-in job behind the bar in a remote desert part of Western Australia. Although they’re warned that they’d “have to be okay with a little male attention” in the outcast mining town, their financial precarity overrides the potential fear. Curiously enough, the fiction film is based on a real story, already told in the 2016 documentary Hotel Coolgardie by Pete Gleeson, but The Assistant director Kitty Green pulls no punches when representing how suffocating it must feel to be encircled by such unmediated male aggression. The brawls, the spilled beer, the c-word as a greeting all form the unnerving paraphernalia of life then and there. For Australian independent film devotees, there is actor Toby Wallace, who reprises his bad boy role from Babyteeth, and he’s joined by the ranks of Herbert Nordrum (The Worst Person in the World) and an utterly terrifying Hugo Weaving (The Matrix).

Swiss filmmaker Alexandre O. Philippe gave us the free-flowing fandom doc The People vs. George Lucas in 2010 and hasn’t stopped obsessing over his favorite filmmakers ever since. Can you blame him? Dedicating years of your life to research of the the weird Lynch-verse is a mammoth task, especially since the kernel of his new doc can be found in a single line uttered by the director. At a Q&A in 2001, he said:”There is not a day that goes by that I don’t think about The Wizard of Oz,” and that was reason enough to conceive of the 1939 Technicolor film as a lens to read Lynch’s whole filmography through. Philippe is dedicated beyond measure, which is both an advantage and a disadvantage for the whimsical exploration of such a fascinating body of work deserves complete devotion. Perhaps even bordering on obsession. A wildcard documentary for the Lynchheads, Lynch/Oz includes not only excerpts from shorts, features, and TV he made, but also clips from various appearances. Plus, the six chapters feature different filmmakers and critics who imbue the film with their own interpretation of the enigma that Lynchian cinema is.

In Letterboxd, Cleaners was once the highest rated film of 2021, and was once in the list of the top 250 narrative features overall before the rating system changed in 2023. To viewers outside the Philippines, this might have been mind-boggling, especially since the film wasn’t yet released internationally the year it premiered, but it shot up the ranks for a reason. The coming-of-age anthology just looks so different, being filmed live, then xeroxed and highlighted, frame by frame, just like print-outs for school. The unique approach evokes a sense of nostalgia in high contrast print and blurred movement, and it’s matched with the classic Filipino coming-of-age moments that has rarely been seen before.

The real life situation behind this harrowing drama is quite extraordinary, so adapting Daniel Rye’s captivity straightforwardly would already intrigue viewers into watching it. However, Held for Ransom does more than depict his torture. Alternating between his captivity and the fundraising efforts back home, the film examines the way they have all responded to the unimaginable, the horrible experience that they have gone through because of extremism. The imprisonment sets the stakes, but the humanity held onto by the hostages, the fierce love of Daniel’s family that would bring him home, and the human cost of non-negotiation pushes this story into somewhere new.

Dramatizing the murder of Hatun “Aynur” Sürücü, A Regular Woman frames her story from her dispassionate narration after she’s passed. This results in a harrowing tale. Knowing her death before she returns home paints every single moment with her family in fury, as they pin every frustration and blame on Aynur for numerous reasons, the biggest is due to not aligning to their ideal of a Muslim wife. It also highlights the failures the German government committed in addressing this issue, the same failures that they could repeat if nothing has changed since her death. A Regular Woman is harrowing, not just because Aynur’s tale is true, but because it acknowledges right on the bat how it can happen again.

Also known as Just 6.5 or Six and a Half per Meters, this police procedural follows the hunt for a drug kingpin named Naser Khakzad. Fast-paced action sets up the investigation off to a thrilling start, and it’s exhilarating to see Samad, the lead cop, get closer and closer to this elusive pusher. However, what grounds the action is the way it seamlessly integrates the societal reality of drugs in Iran, a country with capital punishment for dealers that hasn’t been helpful to stem the nation’s addiction. This understanding provides the springboard for Samad and Naser’s dynamic, making these two take a different path from the ever familiar drug narrative that we’ve seen in other crime thrillers.

Two storylines take place in this Parisian animation: one of a Moroccan immigrant who works as a pizza delivery guy, and the other of his hand, somehow no longer part of his body, but also going on a trip around Paris.

The hand storyline is not gory by the way, except for one or two very quick scenes. Mostly, this is a film about loneliness and not being able to find your way back, both as an immigrant who misses how they were raised and as a hand who misses its body.

Sporting some of the most beautiful animation work this year, this movie premiered at Cannes where it became the first-ever animated film (and Netflix film) to win the Nespresso Grand Prize.

This emotional and moving story is about a mother of four who is forced into homelessness in Dublin. With her husband working in a demanding restaurant job, Rosie is left to take care of the children while trying to find anything resembling accommodation. She starts by seeking the help of the city council, but every facility she calls is full or refuses to welcome them.

As a viewer, the heartbreaking reality of the situation sinks in quickly: Rosie and her husband are priced out and there are too many people in their condition. Their car doesn’t fit them. But to her children, relatives, and school officials, Rosie keeps up appearances and doesn’t compromise on her overwhelming child care tasks. 

This movie narrated by Nicolas Cage is the incredible story of actor Anton Yelchin (Star Trek, Like Crazy): from being born to a Jewish Russian family in Leningrad to moving to the U.S. and ending with his sudden death at age 27. Anton, or Antosha as his loved ones called him, was a gifted kid: he was making his own movies at seven years old, taking highly sophisticated notes on Fellini movies, and picking up playing guitar in a short time. He took photographs that still show in exhibitions around the world. He led an extraordinary life, portrayed here, one that was cut way too short.

Asif Kapadia, the genius of biopics who gave us Senna, is back with this documentary on an even bigger sports personality: Argentinian soccer player Diego Armando Maradona. Considered as possibly the best soccer player of all time, Maradona’s footage on the pitch is pure wizardry, and you’ll feel that way whether you are a soccer fan or not. But that’s not the focus of this documentary. What happens outside the pitch is more interesting: from Maradona’s modest beginnings to the passionate hatred (and love) that entire countries develop of him. And it doesn’t make his story less interesting that during his time in Naples he was affiliated with the mafia.

This is an excellent documentary that distills 500 hours of footage into 2, giving you all you need to know about a character who captured the imagination of a big part of the world for decades. 

Usually, spies in movies tend to be exaggerated for action-packed spectacles, but on occasion, they’re inspired by the real deal. The Spy Gone North is one such instance. Of course, in sticking to the facts, this period piece takes on the feel of a political thriller more than an action flick. The first half, in particular, speeds through a lot of information that viewers without much context of this 90s operation may get very confused. However, the film balances these facts with a steady build-up of each person of interest. While the details may escape some, the characters are easily remembered, with the ensemble fully locked into the tangled web of cover stories, covert surveillance, and national interests. The Spy Gone North keeps the thrill of the mission through tight-knit plotting and understanding of the stakes.

A truly bizarre comedy that shoots far beyond the boundaries of what should probably be considered good taste, The Twentieth Century stands as one of the strangest movies ever made based on a historical figure. Adapted from the real Mackenzie King’s (Canada’s longest-serving prime minister) diaries, the film replaces any traces of reality with psychological projection and almost nonsensical stoner humor. It functions as a satire of the way Canadian society is often depicted as polite (when, according to writer/director Matthew Rankin, it’s anything but) and as a portrait of how even the most powerful politicians are just little boys seeking approval and indulging in fetishes to compensate for the love they can never receive.

Due to the possibility of death, Buoyancy cannot be made as a documentary. This film, after all, sheds light on today’s real life slavery. But that doesn’t mean it’s no less true. The script was written based on interviews with real life survivors, who, of course, would rather not be filmed due to their safety. The characters were written to closely reflect them, which was why, even though the studio is Australian, they casted Thai and Cambodian actors, and wrote the dialogue in their respective languages. And the story that writer-director Rodd Rathjen created, gradually escalates the terror Chakra faces on the whims of a cruel captain, with each new experience slowly scrapping off the innocence that was supposed to be protected. Buoyancy is not a documentary, but it works as a necessary exposé of slavery in Southeast Asian seas because of Rathjen sticking true to the sadly real life atrocity.

This documentary starts with Alex Lewis, who gets into a motorcycle accident and wakes up in the hospital not knowing who he is. He doesn’t remember anything (not even what a bicycle or a TV is, or who his mother or father are), but he remembers his twin brother, Marcus. When Alex gets back into his childhood home, he’s full of questions, and Marcus is full of answers. However, slowly, Marcus realizes his power to reshape Alex’s version of their past. Marcus leaves one important detail from Alex’s life that makes this documentary (as if it wasn’t already) such an insane story. I know I said it’s a sad movie, but it’s also fascinating and, ultimately, humanizing of the brothers’ experience.

China implemented the one-child policy in the 1980s in order to curb the population growth, ending it by 2015 due to the shifting dependency ratio. So Long, My Son depicts two families while the policy was implemented, alternating between past and present to depict how the fickle finger of fate changed their destinies in a single tragedy. It’s intimate and heart-wrenching, and the thirty years haven’t been enough to soothe the guilt, fear, and pain that struck them. Clocking in at three hours, the film may not be a quick and easy watch, but So Long, My Son is the rare depiction of how China’s rapid changes personally affected its people, for better or worse.

There are three big reasons to watch Paddleton. The first two are Ray Romano and Mark Duplass, who play the two neighbors at the center of the story. And the third is Alexandre Lehmann, the director, who also is responsible for Blue Jay (on Netflix as well).

These two misfit neighbors find themselves together when one of them is diagnosed with cancer. They embark on a trip to the nearest pharmacy (a six-hour drive) which turns into an adventure.

This premise gives Paddleton a lot to play on: it’s a comedy, but it’s also a drama about a fatal disease. It’s a bromance, but it’s about a fragile friendship. All these contradictions make Paddleton a great slice-of-life movie. And again, both actors are amazing. Watching it just for them is worth it.

The question mark in the title represents the central idea of this fascinating documentary: what if worshipping Satan is the only way of ensuring religious freedom for everyone?

That’s what a group of young members known as The Satanic Temple believe, led by a determined and well-spoken Harvard graduate. They embark on a journey across the U.S. to challenge corrupt officials and the prevalence of religious biases in government agencies. They always request that their belief system (Satanism) is given the same favorable treatment as Christianity, effectively proving that authorities will really only accept a show of religion if it’s one religion: Christianity.

But their intoxicating energy comes with costs: divisions within the organization and growing pains. This documentary perfectly illustrates not only a misunderstood religion (in the documentary it’s referred to as “post-religion”) but the difficulties of establishing grassroots movements in general.

At times of political strife, how can one seek justice? Song Without a Name could have presented its case in a straightforward biopic. Inspired by her journalist father’s story, writer-director Melina León  could have presented a hard-hitting docudrama that celebrated the smart journalists who brought the traffickers to justice. However, León doesn’t do that. She focuses instead on Georgina, the indigenous mother who lost her child. Her journey is beautifully shot in vignetted black-and-white, but the images and the lullabies she sings are striking, haunting reminders of what was lost, even as the traffickers get imprisoned. Song Without a Name remembers how this injustice was only half resolved.

Given today’s access to cameras, it’s so easy to peek into the lives of other people. Sometimes those peeks seem much more exciting than our entire lives, but as most people know by now, what we see on screen can be so different to what’s really happening. Rather than social media, however, the two broke nobodies in The Great Buddha+ get their entertainment from the dashboard camera of their rich and famous boss, Kevin, though the recordings eventually reveal a darker side to the artist-philanthropist business owner. Alternating from their black-and-white lives to their boss’ colorful one, this dark comedy satirizes that gap between classes, the ones being watched and the ones who could only watch, with the narrator, and sometimes the characters, helpfully explaining on occasion what you’re seeing on screen. The Great Buddha+ gleefully mocks its ensemble, while still being cognizant of the real injustices they face. 

This informative documentary about the former president of the Soviet Union Mikhail Gorbachev is set against modern-day interviews with him that span 6 months. Sitting opposite of him is the Gorbachev equivalent in filmmaking: Werner Herzog. The prolific director asks interesting questions and narrates events that illustrate Gorbachev’s forgotten importance: ending the cold war, a push for denuclearization and avoiding bloodshed during the fall of the Soviet Block. The fact that Gorbachev is loved by so many, including Herzog – who at some point actually says “I love you” – might be the only problem with this documentary. It’s a great reminder of why people loved the Soviet leader, a phenomenon otherwise known as “Gorbymania”, but it does very little in portraying him in a critical light.

At the first few moments, Song Lang seemed to be something akin to Farewell My Concubine– the film takes a snapshot of a communist Asian country in a different time, through the lens of a regional opera form with painted faces, elaborate costumes, and captivating tunes. But there’s more to Song Lang than this. Tragedy isn’t prophesized through songs of an already existing opera (in fact, the film features all new tunes), but instead, it occurs because Dung, the loan shark, didn’t reflect on the past early enough for him to reclaim the art form his family once loved, a concern shared with cải lương as a declining genre. Song Lang is a moving drama, but it’s also a nostalgic time capsule of 1980s Saigon and cải lương as a whole.

This 140-minute Brazilian drama is an epic and touching tale of two sisters torn apart. In 1950s Rio de Janeiro, Eurídice, 18, and Guida, 20, are inseparable, but their dreams soon take them away from each other, from their conservative family, and from Brazil.

After they are separated, each one of them believes the other is achieving her dreams when often the opposite was happening. Family betrayal, silence, and a suffocating social climate shatter the aspiration of the sisters but also highlight their strength.

The four chapters of Only the Animals could make separate films on their own, but the combination that forms this non-linear crime thriller creates a uniquely layered murder mystery. Based on the novel of the same name, the film is centered on the disappearance of the wealthy Evelyne Ducat. Her disappearance affects the characters named in each chapter title, though the alternate timelines tease the means, method, and motivation. Starting from the one living closest to the snowy mountains she was last seen in, all the way to the sunny Côte d’Ivoire, all their lives interlock in unexpected ways, chief of which is the same loneliness that moves them to the foolish actions they take. Only the Animals balance all their stories with tight-rope suspense.

This crazy adventure thriller was Colombia’s nomination for the 2020 Oscars. “Monos” translates to monkeys, the nom de guerre of a group of teenagers holding an American hostage in an isolated bunker. Other than the occasional visit from their supervisor, they’re left to their devices, forming relationships, smoking weed, drinking, and eating psychedelic mushrooms. One day, on top of the hostage, they’re also trusted with a milk cow, named Shakira. A party goes wrong and one of the Monos accidentally kills Shakira, triggering a series of events that sends them deep into the jungle, and deep into despair. 

Monos is not an action movie, it’s more of a character study. It was loosely based on The Lord of the Flies.

When Toni Morrison taught at Princeton, she told her students, “Don’t write about your little life. Create something.” This documentary follows her instruction by being more than a simple biography. Apart from telling the story of her rich, fully-lived life, The Pieces I Am doubles as an artful and educational history lesson about the unique African-American experience. It’s dotted with beautiful artworks and insightful anecdotes shared by Morrison’s colleagues from the various schools and publishing houses she worked at. But most important of all, Morrison gets to narrate the film in her own beautiful, poetic words and, in the process, reveals different facets of herself. There’s Morrison the teacher, editor, writer, and mother, but also: the delightful baker, the supportive friend, the party enjoyer, the critical philosopher. The Pieces I Am is a great collection of many things, a moving collage that pieces together the most interesting parts about the beloved writer in question.

A sweet and romantic German movie about two Berliners who meet randomly and go on a road trip to the south of Europe. It might seem like a silly premise but it’s actually a philosophical movie, one that feels very realistic. The two characters debate human nature, politics, relationships, etc; almost throughout their trip. And they’re played by excellent newcomers who ooze charisma and make the question of what will happen between them incredibly thrilling.

What makes Apollo 11 stand out is its sharp minimalist approach, allowing the archival footage of the mission to the moon to speak for itself. It’s stunning to think that at one point or another we had collectively seen a bulk of the footage in this film, and yet somehow let it lay dormant until the moon landing had been reduced to black and white stills in our collective imaginations. Not only does this film reinvigorate the moon landing with the power that it once held, but it does so in a way that is more thrilling than anything the Marvel CGI wizards could muster. The vibrant score adds a layer of ferocious tension, while the breakneck pace gives the feel of a rollercoaster ride. If there is any fault to find here, it is most definitely with the film’s MAGA style yearning for a time and place that never existed. Spare us the teary-eyed patriotism and the clips of Nixon, a disgraceful criminal, and vile racist, yammering on about the world becoming one. Nevertheless, this is a fantastic example of why most biopics should just be documentaries and why the fanatical fear of spoilers is a tad silly. Spoiler alert: they land on the moon.

In his last film, American Serb film historian Peter Bogdanovich celebrates silver screen legend Buster Keaton. The subject alone is compelling to watch. It would be easy to pull clips from Keaton’s works, dig through the headlines, pull in some celebrity interviews, and call it a day. However, in Bogdanovich’s hands, this documentary handles Keaton with respect. Instead of focusing on the scandals, Bogdanovich focuses on Keaton’s brilliant work. Instead of reciting facts, Bogdanovich highlights how his bits influenced film today. Excellent editing – cuts, structure, and scoring – helps us glide through Keaton’s work. The film truly understands Keaton’s life and exactly why he’s brilliant. Comprehensive yet very focused, this documentary honestly feels better than film school.

Robin Hood might be a centuries old folk hero, but his reincarnations seem to pop up in real life, including the true story behind Dying to Survive. Alternatively translated as I’m Not A Medicine God, the modern day Chinese iteration is initially less concerned over the common good and more concerned with money. It makes for a much more humorous take, as the ordinary peddler bribes, smuggles, and asserts his desire for profit, but it also sets up the real desperation created by a medical drug industry that hopes to incentivize research and protect consumers, but inadvertently blocks the very people that needs said drugs. Dying to Survive might focus more on the smuggler than critiquing this conundrum, but nonetheless it understands the real recurring tragedy that modern life can’t seem to completely solve.

The Wild Pear Tree is somewhat like a novel made into a movie– It’s long, it’s philosophical, and it’s mostly composed of conversations a young protagonist has in order to figure out the best way to live. At first glance, the plot can seem rather mundane. But there’s a subtle anger that drives the film, as Sinan tries to make sense of the arbitrary nature of modern society, but can’t seem to find any answers that satisfy him, due to being at a different place with everyone around him, or simply because he just doesn’t know better. Most people would likely understand one or both sides each talk presents. Depending on where you’re at in life, some or more of these conversations may resonate with you, but there’s no denying that writer-director Nuri Bilge Ceylan crafted his characters well, feeling as real and as personal as the people he grew up with in his hometown.

Heavy Trip is a comedy about a heavy metal band, but unlike many mainstream portrayals, it doesn’t dismiss the genre and its fans as overly aggressive, overly serious, or satanic. Instead, these misfits are endearingly goofy. While they growl over their frustrations, they’re totally sincere about their passion, willing to headbang even in the places they earn their living. So when they finally get a chance of a lifetime, it’s so easy to root for their success in spite of all the things that go wrong (maybe even because of all the ridiculous incidents that happen). While it won’t be the smoothest watch for non-metal fans, Hevi Reissu is a crowdpleaser. Just make sure to prepare your ears.