(Credit: Warner Bros.)
We all have that one film that we keep coming back to. Sometimes, it’s a seasonal thing, and you see the leaves changing and the sky darkening and realise that you simply must watch Coraline and When Harry Met Sally for the 90th time.
Or sometimes a film will transport you back to a particularly nostalgic period of your life, wrapping you up in the comfort of childhood as you revisit all the Pixar films of the noughties or the jokes you didn’t initially understand in the bizarre adaptation of Cat in the Hat.
But there are some films that are more rewarding on a rewatch, pulling together more pieces of the puzzle or noticing small details that you didn’t before, like the enigmatic ending of Hidden or the clues embedded in the seemingly harmless comments made by Mr Armitage in Get Out.
In the simplest of terms, we rewatch films because something about them continues to unravel over time, something that maybe isn’t immediately affecting us but lingers in our minds until we watch them again. Here are ten supremely great movies that get better with every viewing.
10 movies that get better with every viewing:
The Goonies – Richard Donner
So, this film occupies a rather specific place in my mind. When I visited my family in London as a kid, my aunt and uncle had a limited collection of DVDs that only included the entire filmography of Adam Sandler and The Goonies. Because I was too young to watch Don’t Mess with the Zohan, my sisters and I would watch The Goonies on repeat.
It perfectly captures the pure thrill of creating adventure and looking for trouble with your friends, highlighted by an exhilarating score and boyish excitement over pirates, treasure and young love. It has a perfect ensemble cast of young actors with infectious on-screen chemistry, an echo chamber of chaos as they search for a way to stay together and, ultimately, preserve the magic of childhood and stay in the good old days before they’re forgotten.
Umbrellas of Cherbourg – Jacques Demy
With Damien Chazelle listing this movie as the inspiration behind La La Land, it’s no surprise that The Umbrellas of Cherbourg is completely devastating and shattering. A romantic tragedy set in the French town of Cherbourg, the film follows a young couple in love who cannot stay together, pulled apart by the natural ebbs and flows of life. After eventually finding love with new partners, the couple are reunited at the worst possible moment, haunted by an old flame that cannot escape your mind, always pining for someone you can never be with.
The movie has a sweeping score that heightens the whirlwind romance of the couple and a playful colour palette that adds to the overall magic of their world, a world that feels all-encompassing and full of possibility as the couple sing and dance on the cobbled streets of Cherbourg. It’s a film that feels endlessly charming but with a sobering ending that will leave you a hollow shell of your former self, wondering why you ever believed in love in the first place.
Under the Silver Lake – David Robert Mitchell
In his much-awaited follow-up to It Follows, director David Robert Mitchell surprised audiences with his own trippy and frenzied version of the film noir, a story about a man called Sam who embarks on a strange and surrealistic quest to find his next-door neighbour, uncovering a murky scandal beneath Los Angeles. The film feels like a Lynchian twist on Chinatown, taking the classic genre tropes of the film noir and making them feel brash and jarring amidst the backdrop of the celebrity/influencer culture of California, acting as a commentary on our vapid obsession with beauty and the superficiality of modern society.
Andrew Garfield is perfect as an erratic and slightly pathetic ‘detective’, a man so intent on solving a mission that is ultimately pointless, choosing to wrap himself up in a mystery to avoid the reality of his own failures. Some critics harshly received it upon its release, but the film only grows in relevance to the modern world and is a rewarding brain puzzle that you could unpick for days.
10 Things I Hate About You – Gil Junger
Forget the critics; 10 Things I Hate About You is a truly perfect movie. An original adaptation of a Shakespeare play? Set in a high school? With Heath Ledger, Kat Stiles and Joseph Gordon-Levitt? It’s hard not to like a cosy and comfortable watch.
To this day, it is difficult to think of a rom-com that has had more of a lasting impact on cinema and pop culture than this film. There’s an endless back catalogue of quotable moments, with iconic needle drops from Notorious B.I.G., Letters to Cleo and Joan Armatrading that create a sweet yet grungy backdrop to an unexpected romance between two outcasts. It showcases that magical period in time before the internet corrupted our ways of dating, to the simpler times when you’d be serenaded on a football pitch, and your crush would lure you in through elaborate bets and schemes.
Marcel the Shell with Shoes On – Dean Fleischer Camp
Few movies are as able to conjure tears as effortlessly as this one. Marcel the Shell with Shoes On is a delightful and heartwarming mockumentary about a shell called Marcel, who (you guessed it) wears shoes. Marcel lives a sheltered life in an Air BNB before meeting a filmmaker called Dean, who temporarily moves in after a bad breakup. Through their friendship, the pair push each other to go outside of their comfort zone and be brave enough to open themselves up to the world again, despite it not working out for them before.
Marcel begins a quest to find community and strength, showing how rewarding it is to pick yourself up after a bad fall and continue to try, no matter how difficult it is to keep going. It’s a truly beautiful and original piece of work that is both wise and completely adorable, reminding us that the world is so much bigger than our own limits and that sometimes, a small step can change our lives forever.
Stop Making Sense – Jonathan Demme
Stop Making Sense is arguably, one of the best concert films of all time, and a contagiously joyous viewing experience. Showcasing the Talking Heads at the peak of their career, the film spans over one evening as they perform their greatest hits, with next-level choreography and chemistry from the group as they laugh and have the time of their lives on stage.
At one point, David Byrne dances with a lamp, and you half expect it to fall over given the energy and vigour in which he hurls it around. Still, his genuine surprise at the lamp managing to stay upright is one of the most unexpectedly beautiful moments in the whole show. If you’re ever in a bad mood or need an emotional pick-me-up, Stop Making Sense is the perfect way to inject some life into your veins.
Paris is Burning – Jennie Livingston
The cultural impact of Paris is Burning cannot be understated. It’s a beautiful, one-of-a-kind documentary that captures a period in time that no longer exists, an ode to the power of authenticity and community.
The film has moments of real sadness but maintains an optimistic core that speaks to the vibrancy and resilience of the documentary’s subjects, a group of people who, despite the harsh pressures and judgement of the outside world, continue to live boldly and with pride. The level of creativity from this particular community and their impact on pop culture is staggering, with the effects of their work still being felt today. Because of this and so much more, it rightfully earns a place on this list.
Carol – Todd Haynes
Many people like to rewatch Home Alone or The Holiday around the festive season, but for some, nothing says season greetings like the quiet despair and tenderness of Carol. It’s a fairly simplistic film, opting for subtlety over the grand gestures that we usually associate with films of romantic persuasion.
Carol is a mood that lingers in the unsaid moments; a story of loaded glances and the delicate electricity of a love affair that can’t exist in the open. There’s a shaky carefulness to each frame that creates this feeling of something that’s desperate to be set free, much like the inner worlds of the characters. It’s a beautiful story, and one that is even more devastating each time you return to it.
Paper Moon – Peter Bogdanovich
There’s nothing that screams old Hollywood magic like the work of Peter Bogdanovich, and Paper Moon has to be my favourite from his entire body of work. With effortlessly charming performances from Tatum and Ryan O’Neal as a pair of creative con artists on the run, it’s a simplistic story that knows how to play to its strengths, using the relationship of the cast members to its full potential as we watch them playfully bicker about the price of a bible or whether or not children should smoke indoors.
Paper Moon has the ability to make you feel intensely without being overly dramatic or manipulative, first and foremost relying on the chemistry and script to pull you in at the right moments, always surprising you with the sudden emotional peaks and troughs that are never done through cheesy plot tropes or music. It’s a classic for a reason, and its endearing earnestness and sense of humour never fails to make me laugh and cry.
A Summer’s Tale – Éric Rohmer
Éric Rohmer is the master of capturing the trials and tribulations of everyday life, whether it be romantic quandaries, small-scale conflicts between friends or the dilemma of where to go for your summer holiday, and A Summers Tale is no exception to his genius. A Summer’s Tale is the perfect blend of all his trademark qualities, with meandering conversations, existentialist themes and a messy love triangle at the centre that allows for endless misunderstandings and entertainment as you watch the main character navigate the very niche problem of having too many suitors, eventually opting for a speaker system that will eliminate the particular stress of having to find a partner.
Even though it’s set during the summer, it’s the perfect film to watch at any time of year due to its unique mix of being both a comedy, a love story, a fable and a satire. It’s Rohmer at his best and a film with many different elements that resonate with you in new ways with each rewatch, depending on the ways in which you’ve (hopefully) matured since.
All That Jazz – Bob Fosse
And lastly, my final pick for the most re-watchable film is Bob Fosse’s All That Jazz, a glittering and all-consuming epic about dedicating your life to the creative arts (very fitting). It’s both bittersweet and deeply scathing, with Fosse laying all his vulnerabilities onto the table to dissect the complex relationship between the artist and audience, showing how we depend on the constant attention and validation from those who consume our work and the cycle of self-loathing and insecurity that fuels this very work.
Fosse layers his own memories with musical numbers and dance sequences, both an ode and critique of the business he dedicated his life to, at the expense of himself and his loved ones, who sadly just didn’t make the cut for front-row seats to his own life. Even though the film is deeply cutting and devastating, it is also full of heart and passion, a ticking time bomb that slowly unravels as Fosse unpacks his relationship to art and performance, which is, perhaps, the most perfect homage to this crazy industry.
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