Photo Credit (Pixeles)

Naturally, a list of films hardly covers the ground of a decade that witnessed the production of thousands (and thousands), and many unique pictures, particularly those that were controversial or obscure, were left off the list. In light of this, we asked our panel of cinema critics to select the one underappreciated and/or unfairly disparaged movie from the previous ten years that they hoped more people would discover, rediscover, or think about in the future.

Even though “24 Frames,” Abbas Kiarostami’s final picture, was largely praised by reviewers when it was released in 2018, I would want to take a moment to discuss it and argue that it is a significant milestone in the director’s body of work. It may seem more like an odd experiment than a complete movie due to its unusual format—two hours of 24 seemingly unrelated scenes, each lasting roughly four and a half minutes and consisting primarily of still images with a combination of live-action movement, animation, and sound effects—but there is much to appreciate in the themes each scene addresses as well as what it means in a larger context. With a wide range of locations—from urban landscapes to natural settings to even a painting—we can observe the various ways in which Kiarostami explored the world in his work, frequently in ways that defied conventional conventions about how to tell stories or explore environments. His ability to arouse strong feelings and meaning in viewers from seemingly incomprehensible setups persisted until the very end of his life, and this weekend’s rewatch of “24 Frames” gave me the chance to better understand and uncover the parallels and connections between each composition. It seems to be a magnificent synthesis of the deep philosophical reflections and creative methods that Kiarostami guided audiences through during his illustrious career. One of the films from the past several years that I sincerely hope will be remembered and talked about for a very long time is this one; it is a true and audacious accomplishment by a great artist.

As evidenced by her work as a television director, Jennifer Phang is no stranger to science fiction, and with “Advantageous,” she took the genre and doubled down on themes of sexism, motherhood, aging, and moral autonomy and how they all intersect into something the systems around us deem products for sale or service. There have always been many brilliantly insightful films that fall short of the general audience conversation, but few have been as boldly confident as Phang’s 2015 feature. Co-writer Jacqueline Kim gives a remarkable performance in this eerily menacing film, which has imagery that lingers so deeply that it merits continuous analysis.

It’s not just a work that relies on its thematic power; it’s also a fantastic science fiction movie that, like the best of its kind, masterfully blends concept and vision to produce a visually ageless work that preserves traces of the time period from which it was produced. It’s hardly surprising that it was so underappreciated given that it was directed by a woman on a very tight budget and was only available on Netflix. But “Advantageous,” which is both one of the best science fiction movies of the last ten years and a scathing critique of the way we commodify women’s bodies and minds, deserves a second look. With “Advantageous,” which was shot with a sharp, fashionable eye and washed-out palettes, Phang created a poignant, captivating, and heartbreaking picture that transported us into the “near future” while telling an intriguing tale of excessive grandeur, wealthy indifference, and mother love. There aren’t many movies like it.

Perhaps the first big-budget, visionary science fiction movie that nailed the landing since “Close Encounters of the Third Kind” in the manner of “2001” is “Annihilation.” It accomplished this by avoiding self-explanation, a temptation that far too many idea-driven science fiction movies—even the good ones—cannot avoid. What most amazes me about it, after seeing it five times and twice in public, is that everyone who explains what it is “about” has a different opinion.
“Bandslam” by Todd Graff

Todd Graff’s “Bandslam,” which was distributed by Summit Entertainment in August 2009, is the most underappreciated movie of the past ten years and undoubtedly one of the most criminally underappreciated. Although it received positive reviews from critics, the movie did not do well with the general public. The film hasn’t even gained traction on streaming services. I’ve been thinking about it lately because of the approaching 10-year anniversary in August, but no one actually discusses it.

Just as Annapurna’s marketing campaign for “Booksmart” was critiqued, we can say the same about Summit’s approach to “Bandslam,” a movie starring Gaelan Connell, Aly Michalka, and Vanessa Hudgens. Because of their work on Disney, Michalka and Hudgens had an existing fan base. The studio chose to highlight the Disney connections rather than try to sell the film on the idea. I can only hope that this is fixed because it was a horrible decision.

Evan Glodell’s “Bellflower”

Even though there are many unheralded movies from the past decade to choose from, such as Spike Lee’s “Chi-Raq” or Luc Besson’s “Valerian and the City of a Thousand Planets,” Evan Glodell’s “Bellflower” was the first that sprang to mind. Touted as an apocalyptic romance, the film received positive reviews and was nominated for an Independent Spirit Award, but it still seems to have gone unnoticed. It’s unfortunate.

Glodell, the director, writer, editor, and star, may not have jumped right into another project, but creating a romantic comedy that is anti-arthouse and has enough quirkiness to serve as a tribute to “The Road Warrior” seems like something that could appeal to a wider audience. In light of this, “Bellflower” is a film that saw Glodell and his team use unique cameras in order to create a singular visual experience that featured two men preoccupied with the end of the world, a heavily altered vehicle, and a relationship that seemed hopeless.

In fact, “Bellflower” draws on a number of concepts that, whether positive or negative, are even more pertinent now than they were when it first came out in theaters in 2011. The picture was made on a very tight budget and, despite its rough edges, is a visually stunning and ambitious work of art. It also has a cinematic automobile that might have become famous had the movie gotten more attention—after all, who could resist a 1972 Buick Skylark that was named Mother Medusa and featured flamethrowers?

Time will go by, civilizations will collapse, Neo Seoul will emerge, and I will still be raving about the 2012 adaptation of Cloud Atlas by Tom Tykwer and the Wachowski sisters. The nearly three-hour epic film, which is based on David Mitchell’s possibly unfilmable novel, explores time, people, and civilization while meditating on how a gesture can have an impact on space and time. The film uses the same actors in each of its six stories, which range from historical travelogue to ’70s pulp criminal thriller to futuristic science fiction, to create a feeling of coherence. The use of race-altering makeup on both white and non-white actors was one of the main reasons why Cloud Atlas was criticized when it was first released. Seven years after the film’s premiere, I still believe that the creative decision was both completely essential and inappropriate. I acknowledge the criticism and agree with it.

I’m left with a lot of unanswered questions since none of it works cinematically without repeatedly featuring the same actors over time and around the world. However, a lot of the content on screen is incredibly well-shot, cleverly humorous, and incredibly moving. Part of the brilliance of it is that, rather than being produced by a sequence of algorithms, what’s on screen both works and doesn’t work. This is what gives it such a really personal sense. It is becoming more and more uncommon in the film industry to have such a grandiose sense, and for that reason alone, Cloud Atlas should be praised. I will cry just thinking about its six-minute (!) trailer! Furthermore, Tykwer’s score for the movie is unquestionably among the best of the decade.

For me, staying power is measured by looking back on a full ten years of movies. Any number of emotional or intellectual triggers, from highly praised feelings to the festering mental acrobatics of an experience you can’t get out of your head, might cause that lasting draw. Anger can create memories just as powerful as pleasure. “Cloud Atlas,” a review of a film of poor quality that fits those catalysts and barbs, is something I haven’t been able to write as a reviewer to this day. There is such a contrast between enchantment and madness in the enormous effort of the Wachowski sisters and Tom Twyker.

While some situations completely overwhelm us, others push us over the edge of our mental stability. “Cloud Atlas” is one of the most ambitious and driven projects I’ve ever seen, even when it comes to trying to adapt its terrifying original novel. I will always appreciate the skill and the effort, despite all of the sensitive and justified buyer beware signs it receives (length, racial dynamics, spirituality, and more). Seven years ago, we weren’t prepared for its haughtiness, and the public and critics can see it. We may not be prepared to jump into 2020 just yet. Nevertheless, “Cloud Atlas” requires modern attention, new perspectives, and a second opportunity to garner artistic recognition and enduring admiration in a time when a significant portion of moviegoers and movie buffs have begun to yearn for more substance from blockbusters.

(Sara Fattahi) “Coma”

Great films endure a variety of forms of disdain, and the 2015 debut feature film “Coma,” directed by Syrian filmmaker Sara Fattahi, has endured a particularly harsh form of it: neglect. One of the most inventive movies of the past few years is “Coma.” Filmed in Damascus, mostly in her family’s flat, and mostly focused on her mother, grandmother, and herself throughout the civil war, Fattahi captures the nexus of political and personal life with a unique aesthetic imagination. Whether intentional or not, I believe that Fattahi’s debut feature is the most inspired movie that draws inspiration from Chantal Akerman’s work. Although “Coma,” which took home a major prize at the 2015 Viennale, hasn’t been released here yet (nor has her 2018 feature “Chaos”), New Yorkers will have the opportunity to see it for themselves on August 15 at the Anthology feature Archives.