Pax de la Huerta stars in the 2009 film ‘Enter the Void.’
Kanopy
I usually write articles about very accessible movies—ones that are both coming to and leaving Netflix and Amazon Prime, for example. But I’ve always wanted to spend some time highlighting lesser-known movies, particularly the ones I love. So I’m going to do just that. This list really has no connective thread beyond how much I love these movies, which all rank among my favorite films ever. I tried to choose movies that haven’t quite penetrated the mainstream in hopes that someone will discover a new favorite. The genres and types of stories are all over the place—from punk-laced rom-coms to super-trippy, neon-laden dramas to bare-bones western classics—in order to appeal to as many tastes as possible.
So let’s not dilly-dally any further. Here are five of my favorite movies ever—including trailers, plot summaries, reasons you should watch them, and where you can watch them. If you want to discuss any of these movies further, just hit me up in the comments section. I hope you enjoy this totally random list.
5 Totally Random, Awesome Movies You Can Stream Today
Dinner in America (2020)
Where to stream it: Kanopy, Plex
Where to rent it: Amazon, Apple TV+
Few movies have rocked my world this year more than Dinner in America, a film that, four years after its initial low-key, COVID-plagued release, found a cult audience that related to its punk-laden message. Set in the suburban Midwest, this film from director Adam Carter Rehmeier (who recently released the teen comedy Snack Shack) tracks the relationship between Simon (Kyle Gallner), a rebellious punk rocker on the run from the law, and Patty (Emily Skeggs), a socially awkward and sheltered young woman obsessed with the band PSYOPS. The twist? Simon’s secret identity is John Q—the lead singer of her favorite band. The two embark on an Odyssean journey across their small town, during which Patty exposes Simon’s softer side, and Simon pushes Patty to embrace her inner punk persona. The result is a truly one-of-a-kind modern moviegoing experience, one that embraces “punk” as an aesthetic as Simon and Patty wreak havoc throughout town, confront personal demons and carve out a chaotic but sincere space of self-expression. Originally conceived by Rehmeier in the early 2010s, Dinner in America took years to find financing—but thank goodness it did, because its DIY spirit (the movie was filmed in just 21 days on a modest budget) is truly inspiring and perfectly complements its message of inclusivity, necessary rebellion and self-acceptance. Many characters in movies find love, but few romances feel as honest or as necessary or as fundamental as the love between Simon and Patty, two drifting individuals who find exactly what they need in a world trying to tie them down.
Chungking Express (1994)
Where to stream it: HBO Max, Criterion Channel, Kanopy, Crunchyroll
Where to rent it: Amazon, Apple TV+
As much as Chungking Express is appreciated by those interested in modern world cinema, I can’t help but think the latest generation of movie lovers—people who seem to love both Asian cinema and a general ’90s aesthetic—has yet to discover this gem. Well, hopefully I can help. One of my favorite movies ever unfolds in two loosely connected stories set in the heart of Hong Kong. The first follows a young officer named He Zhi Wu (he is known as Cop 223, played by Takeshi Kaneshiro), who is in shambles after a bad breakup with a girl named May. This melancholic character, who becomes infatuated with expiration dates that mark May’s birthday, eventually fixates on a mysterious woman in a blond wig (Brigitte Lin) who is secretly involved in drug trafficking. The second story, which takes up the majority of the movie, centers on the nameless Cop 663 (Tony Leung Chiu-wai), another heartbroken officer whose life is quietly disrupted by Faye (Faye Wong), a quirky snack-bar worker who sneaks into his apartment while he’s away. Highly improvised and quickly shot, this masterpiece from director Wong Kar-wai (who famously directed movies like Fallen Angels, In the Mood for Love and Happy Together) relied heavily on in-the-moment inspiration rather than a locked script, producing a signature aesthetic that created space for actors to fully inhabit their roles; provided room for the dialogue and pacing to feel unpredictable yet natural; and allowed editing choices to rely on feeling and character rather than logic and plot—the grand result is a dreamlike, stream-of-consciousness tone that holds a very special place in many people’s hearts.
Enter the Void (2009)
Where to stream it: Kanopy, Shudder, Mubi, AMC+, Crunchyroll
Where to rent it: Amazon, Apple TV+
My “favorite movie ever” tends to shift, depending on the state I’m in, how I’m viewing the world and, ultimately, how I want to be living my life. And for the past several years, that special movie has been Enter the Void, a completely first-person, unapologetically experimental, neon-soaked psychedelic experience of pure sensory overload that fearlessly confronts life and death—or, perhaps a better way to put it: the precious space between life and death. This unparalleled film from French filmmaker Gaspar Noé (who also directed Irréversible, Climax and Vortex) takes place in Tokyo, where Oscar (Nathaniel Brown) lives with his sister Linda (Paz de la Huerta). Oscar, who spends most of his time getting high and dealing drugs, is shot and killed during a deal gone wrong. But this isn’t where the story ends—it’s where it begins. Oscar then floats above his body and travels across time and space, both reviewing his past and what brought him here and envisioning the future and what the world will become in his absence. Deeply inspired by The Tibetan Book of the Dead’s descriptions of the soul’s journey after death (this idea is candidly discussed in the film), Noé boldly imagines a first-person account of such a metaphysical experience (is this death for Oscar… or just a hallucination?) that ultimately collapses the boundaries between viewer and protagonist. As the camera floats above buildings, through walls and across time—depicted through kaleidoscopic effects, morphing geometry and out-of-body sequences that distort time and perception—we become one with the ghostly omnipresence that reflects Oscar’s purgatorial journey. The constant, fluid camera motion replicates the feeling of floating or being untethered, quite literally offering the viewer an out-of-body experience.
Ride Lonesome (1959)
Where to stream it: Crunchyroll, FlixFling
Where to rent it: Amazon, Apple TV+
My two favorite westerns are on this list—but the first one to rock my world was Ride Lonesome. Many westerns had made an impression on me—The Naked Spur, The Hanging Tree and Unforgiven—but Budd Boetticher’s sparse mosaic of the Old West opened up an entirely new world. The film opens on bounty hunter Ben Brigade (Randolph Scott) in the midst of a ride into hostile territory. He’s out to capture the young outlaw wanted for murder, Billy John (James Best), with plans to deliver Billy to justice in Santa Cruz—all while knowing that Billy’s brother, Frank (Lee Van Cleef), will try to stop Brigade before he gets there. Along the way, Brigade is joined by two outlaws, Sam Boone (Pernell Roberts) and Whit (James Coburn), who are hoping to reform themselves by being granted amnesty for bringing in Billy John, as well as Carrie Lane (Karen Steele), who joins the party to search for her lost husband. As Brigade gets closer to Santa Cruz, the crew learns more about his history: to avenge a death, his motivations run deeper than a simple bounty. Ride Lonesome is part of the renowned “Ranown Cycle,” a series of seven low-budget western collaborations from Boetticher and star Randolph Scott between 1956-60. Shot in CinemaScope on location in Lone Pine, Calif., this short yet profound film (it stands at just 73 minutes) is bolstered by Boetticher’s signature aesthetic, using the stark, empty frontier of the Old West to capture and mirror Brigade’s internal isolation. Ride Lonesome is the most transfixing encapsulation of cinematic restraint, a film where no shots (which are often held longer than expected, creating tension and giving space for morality to play out visually) or pieces of dialogue (which are sparse and meaningful, often loaded with subtext) are wasted. This film made me realize how much meaning can be found in such simple arrangements.
Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (2005)
Where to stream it: Crunchyroll
Where to rent it: Amazon, Apple TV+
Film noir is probably my favorite genre—I love the high-contrast lighting with deep shadows and dramatic use of light; the use of urban settings, with rain-soaked streets, neon signs and smoke-filled rooms; the distorted or unconventional camera angles to heighten tension and unease. It’s not too much of a jump, then, for me to love neo-noirs, the modern update of film noir for any movie made after 1960. And one of my absolute favorites of that sub-genre is Kiss Kiss Bang Bang. After botching a small-time robbery, neurotically awkward New York thief Harry Lockhart (Robert Downey Jr.) stumbles into a movie audition while fleeing the police—and somehow nails the part. With promises of movie stardom, he’s whisked off to Los Angeles for a screen test. There, he meets up with “Gay” Perry (Val Kilmer), a tough-as-nails private investigator hired to give Harry detective lessons. But things take a dark, twisted (and, to be honest, not entirely unwelcome) turn when Harry is reunited with his childhood crush Harmony Lane (Michelle Monaghan). Before long, one of Gay Perry’s cases becomes intertwined with Harmony’s case, nudging Harry to become a detective who can solve both—and potentially win Harmony back. The film serves as Shane Black’s directorial debut (he previously wrote the Lethal Weapon movies, and went on to direct The Nice Guys and Iron Man 3), and he instantly proved that his classic, side-splittingly witty dialogue was only enhanced by his keen neo-noir eye, as he and cinematographer Michael Barrett capture the sleazy glamour of classic noir settings through the nightlife of Los Angeles, with saturated colors and shadowy interiors constantly catching our eye. The result is one of the best neo-noirs ever, backed by the incredible chemistry between the three leads. To boot, it’s impossibly hilarious—few movies make me laugh as much as Kiss Kiss Bang Bang.