Only 10 Movies From the 2010s Will Stand the Test of Time as Masterpieces

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Cate Blanchett and Rooney Mara as Carol and Therese in Carol sit on the living room floor in Carol.

Published Aug 29, 2026, 2:28 PM EDT

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How quickly can a movie be declared a masterpiece, and how long does it have before that status can be revoked? When it comes to films, timing is everything. Many movies that have been near universally acclaimed have vanished without a trace from the cultural conversation within a few years, while others that have been lambasted have gained devoted cult followings in that same time; no movie is absolutely guaranteed to stand the test of time.

This being the internet, where hot takes, bad takes and all other manner of takes are their own form of currency, it's worth gazing into a cinematic crystal ball and guesstimating which movies from the prior decade of the 2010s will actually endure. All the films on this list received acclaim and have only seemed to grow in estimation since, suggesting they are only going to get more love as time goes on. The future is uncertain, but for now, these movies from the 2010s seem destined to thrive as masterpieces.

'Rango' (2011)

Rango the lizard from the animated movie of the same name walking away from a ghost town.

The 2010s weren't exactly a prolific period for the Western, but what the decade lacked in quantity, it sure made up for in quality. If there's one I'd bet a solid silver dollar will stand the test of time, it's the gonzo animated film Rango. A decade and a half after its release, this Oscar-winning Gore Verbinski film about a cowardly chameleon still looks gorgeous and is still funny as hell.

As the first full animated feature created by visual effects studio Industrial Light & Magic, Rango captures the wide vistas and sunbaked deserts of the Western genre and then populates them with a full cast of colorful anthropomorphic animal characters. The film follows the titular chameleon (Johnny Depp), who wanders into a frontier town after his vivarium is shattered on a road trip. He finds himself swept into a complicated plot of outlaws and corrupt officials that pulls influence from movies as wide-ranging as A Fistful of Dollars, Chinatown, and Raising Arizona.

'It's Such a Beautiful Day' (2012)

A stick figure walking through a desert in It's Such a Beautiful Day

Rango could easily slot in as the defining animated masterpiece of the 2010s, but that would do a disservice to Don Hertzfeldt's It's Such a Beautiful Day. Combining three shorts of Hertzfeldt's into a feature-length narrative, the film is a beautiful, surreal journey through memory and mortality. There were many incredibly emotional and beautiful animated films made in the 2010s, but Hertzfeldt's film is one that simply seems to linger longer thanks to its idiosyncratic style and unexpected depth.

Bill is a stick figure character suffering from a neurodegenerative disease that affects his memories and causes hallucinations, leading him on a metaphysical journey through his distorted memories and family history towards certain death. Hertzfeldt's unique form of animation and the simplicity of the character designs have a strange way of amplifying the emotional content. It's Such a Beautiful Day is an existential film that can make you think, laugh, and cry all over the sad tragedy of a stick figure.

'Inside Llewyn Davis' (2013)

Oscar Isaac and Justin Timberlake as Llewyn Davis and Jake Berkey playing guitars in a recording studio in Inside Llewyn Davis

Movie musicals and movies about music were a hot commodity in the 2010s, many of them with more melancholy narratives, even when their visuals were bright and colorful. The former applies to the best music film of the decade, while the latter does not, since the Coen Brothers' folk movie Inside Llewyn Davis looks about as cold, grey and slushy as any film ever has. Although it's mildly inspired by the musician Dave Von Ronk, it's neither a biopic nor even meant to accurately reflect the folk scene of '60s New York City, but instead mimics the mood and feeling of a folk song.

Llewyn Davis, played by Oscar Isaac with his impressive pipes, is a couch-surfing misanthrope who's failed to find any modicum of success with his music. Over a week, the film follows Llewyn on a cyclical journey of failure and misfortune. It's bitterly funny, filled with incredible performances by a stacked cast, some of whom only have a scene or two but leave an indelible impact. The Coens officially split as co-directors in the 2010s, but they left behind a lifetime of work that's peppered with masterpieces that will all stand the test of time, including Inside Llewyn Davis.

'The Wolf of Wall Street' (2013)

Leonardo DiCaprio as Jordan Belfort holding a bill while looking at a camera in The Wolf of Wall Street.

Like the Coens, Martin Scorsese has numerous masterpieces in his filmography, and the 2010s were a prominent decade for the filmmaker, mostly defined by his working relationship with Leonardo DiCaprio. Their collaborations have continued to gain praise, but it's The Wolf of Wall Street that seems likely to be remembered as their greatest masterpiece. It's a '90s Caligula for the stock market set, with all the excess and outrage that designation suggests. DiCaprio plays real-life scumbag Jordan Belfort, a silver-tongued stockbroker who builds a financial empire out of illegal schemes and scams.

The film isn't concerned so much with the mechanics of Belfort's crime as it is with depicting his lavishly grotesque lifestyle. Some critics, and a ton of film bros, misinterpreted this depiction of extravagant wealth as an endorsement of Belfort, even though the character himself is portrayed as a sleazy, abusive conman who never learns any lessons and continues his grift under the guise of a motivational speaker. Much like Goodfellas depicted the allure and dangers of organized crime, The Wolf of Wall Street depicts the high risk and low consequences awarded to white-collar criminals in America.

'Mad Max: Fury Road' (2015)

The 2010s introduced a few new action franchises and heroes to the cinematic landscape, but the best action of the decade, and the 21st century so far, featured a hero who had been absent from cinemas for three decades. Mad Max: Fury Road took a long time to get made, with lengthy development periods and production delays that resulted in Tom Hardy taking over the titular role from Mel Gibson for several obvious reasons. Despite the long gestation and troubled shoot, the finished film showed no signs of either. It's an immaculately made, exhilarating action masterpiece that gets better with every viewing.

Hardy's Max enters the film still wandering the wasteland when he gets mixed up with another post-apocalyptic warlord. Dragged along with Charlize Theron's Furiosa and her plot to liberate the slave wives of Hugh Keays-Byrne's Immortan Joe, Max takes part in a desert-wide chase that's chock-full of incredible stunts, daring practical effects, and outrageous visuals. Every frame of Mad Max: Fury Road feels purposeful, and there's no doubt the film will have a legacy even longer than its iconic predecessors.

'Carol' (2015)

Cate Blanchett talking to Rooney Mara in Carol

Romance in the 2010s saw all different kinds of dynamics hit the screen. There was also plenty of LGBTQ representation on screen, too, but Todd Haynes' elegant Carol is a standout, an aching portrait of a lesbian romance based on the novel The Price of Salt by Patricia Highsmith. It was a significant publication in terms of its depiction of a same-sex relationship without any lurid pulp elements, and a highly personal story for Highsmith, better known for her work in the crime genre.

Cate Blanchett is Carol, a woman going through a painful divorce who has a chance encounter with Therese, played by Rooney Mara, while Christmas shopping. The two engage in a slow-burn love affair that they have to keep a secret out of necessity. Carol doesn't shy away from the harsh realities faced by anyone who doesn't conform to a heteronormative standard, but it isn't a tragedy. There's an optimism inherent to Highsmith's novel, and the film's visuals, from the mid-century designs to the 16mm cinematography, have a textured softness to them. Carol is visual velvet, and Blanchett and Mara match those visuals in their tender, nuanced performances.

'Arrival' (2016)

Amy Adams looking to the distance with her hands on her hair in Arrival

Science fiction was as dominant as ever in the 2010s, with everything from small cerebral thrillers to massive epics being made. When it comes to the most monumental sci-fi films of the decade, two directors cast cosmically large shadows. Christopher Nolan and Denis Villeneuve, whose emotionally devastating Arrival is one of the most genuinely affecting sci-fi works to have ever graced the silver screen.

After aliens arrive on Earth, humanity makes attempts to communicate with them. In the U.S., this effort is led by linguist Louise Banks (Amy Adams in an incredible performance balancing emotion and intelligence). Communication and language are major themes, examining how our words connect us to each other and serve as extensions of our emotions and experiences. In the narrative climax, Louise is able to avert worldwide catastrophe through her comprehension of the alien language. The emotional climax, where we comprehend the language of the film and the consequences it has for Louise, is where Arrival makes its biggest impact. It's the kind of incredible storytelling that only science fiction is capable of.

'Moonlight' (2016)

Juan holds Chiron on the ocean in Moonlight.

The ineffable genre of drama. There's nothing inherent to distinguish it from any other. All films operate on some level of dramatic tension, and dramas can be subcategorized into elaborate convolutions. Many of the aforementioned films on this list could be considered dramas, all different from each other, yet similarly affecting. They take us on emotional journeys that can expand our empathy and expose us to lived experiences well outside our own. No film of the 2010s does that as well as Barry Jenkins' Moonlight.

The story of Chiron, played by Alex Hibbert, Ashton Sanders, and Trevante Rhodes and told across three timelines, is so specific in its details yet so empathetically portrayed that it elicits emotion no matter how much or little you can relate to it. Chiron comes of age in Miami while coming to terms with his sexuality, all while dealing with drugs and traumas. It's a character study about an identity crisis and how the individual elements of a person collide with their environment to form them into who they are. Moonlight is a stunning piece of work deeply rooted in its characters and setting, dramatically transcending any time or place.

Collider Exclusive · Oscar Best Picture Quiz Which Oscar Best Picture
Is Your Perfect Movie? Parasite · Everything Everywhere · Oppenheimer · Birdman · No Country

Five Oscar Best Picture winners. Five completely different visions of what cinema can be — and what it can do to you. One of them is the film that was made for the way your mind works. Ten questions will figure out which one.

🪜Parasite

🌀Everything Everywhere

☢️Oppenheimer

🐦Birdman

🪙No Country for Old Men

FIND YOUR FILM →

What kind of film experience do you actually want? The best movies don't just entertain — they leave something behind.

ASomething that pulls the rug out — that makes me think I'm watching one kind of film and then reveals I'm watching another entirely. BSomething overwhelming — funny, sad, absurd, and genuinely moving, all at once. CSomething grand and weighty — a film that makes me feel the full scale of what I'm watching. DSomething formally daring — a film that pushes what cinema can even do. ESomething lean and relentless — pure tension with no wasted frame.

NEXT QUESTION →

Which idea grabs you most in a film? Great films are driven by a central obsession. What's yours?

AClass, inequality, and what people are willing to do when desperation meets opportunity. BIdentity, family, and the chaos of trying to hold your life together when everything is falling apart. CGenius, moral responsibility, and the catastrophic weight of a decision you can never take back. DEgo, legacy, and the terror of becoming irrelevant while you're still alive to watch it happen. EEvil, chance, and whether moral order actually exists or if we just tell ourselves it does.

NEXT QUESTION →

How do you like your story told? Form is content. The way a story is shaped changes what it means.

AGenre-twisting — I want it to start in one lane and migrate into something completely different. BMaximalist and genre-blending — comedy, action, drama, sci-fi, all in one ride. CEpic and non-linear — cutting between timelines, building a mosaic of cause and consequence. DA single unbroken flow — I want to feel like I'm living it in real time, no cuts to safety. ESpare and precise — every scene doing exactly what it needs to do and nothing more.

NEXT QUESTION →

What makes a truly great antagonist? The opposition defines the protagonist. What kind of opposition fascinates you?

AA system — invisible, structural, and almost impossible to fight because it has no single face. BThe self — the ways we sabotage, abandon, and fail the people we love most. CHistory — the unstoppable momentum of events that no single person can stop or redirect. DThe industry — the machinery of culture that chews up talent and spits out irrelevance. EPure, implacable evil — a force so certain of itself it becomes almost philosophical.

NEXT QUESTION →

What do you want from a film's ending? The final note is the one that lingers. What do you want it to sound like?

AShock and inevitability — a conclusion that recontextualises everything that came before it. BEarned emotion — I want to cry, laugh, and feel genuinely hopeful, even if the world is a mess. CDevastation and grandeur — an ending that makes me sit in silence for a few minutes after. DAmbiguity — something that leaves enough open that I'm still thinking about it days later. EBleakness — an honest refusal to pretend the world is tidier than it actually is.

NEXT QUESTION →

Which setting pulls you in most? Where a film takes place shapes everything — mood, stakes, what's even possible.

AA gleaming modern city with a hidden underside — beauty masking rot, wealth masking desperation. BA collapsing suburban life that opens onto something infinite — the multiverse of a single ordinary person. CThe corridors of power and science at a world-historical turning point — where decisions echo for decades. DThe grimy, alive chaos of New York and Hollywood — fame as both destination and trap. EVast, indifferent landscape — desert and highway where violence arrives without warning or reason.

NEXT QUESTION →

What cinematic craft impresses you most? Every great film has a signature — a technical or artistic element that makes it unmistakable.

AProduction design and mise-en-scène — every frame composed to carry meaning beneath the surface. BEditing and tonal control — the ability to move between registers without losing the audience. CScore and sound design — music that becomes inseparable from the dread and awe of what you're watching. DCinematography as performance — the camera not recording events but participating in them. ESilence and restraint — what's left unsaid and unshown doing more work than any dialogue could.

NEXT QUESTION →

What kind of main character do you root for? The protagonist is the lens. Who you choose to follow says something about you.

ASomeone smart and resourceful who makes increasingly dangerous decisions under pressure. BSomeone overwhelmed and ordinary who turns out to be capable of something extraordinary. CA brilliant, tortured figure whose gifts and flaws are inseparable from each other. DA self-destructive artist whose ego is both their superpower and their undoing. EA quiet, principled person trying to make sense of a world that has stopped making sense.

NEXT QUESTION →

How do you feel about a film that takes its time? Pace is a choice. Some films sprint; others let tension accumulate slowly, deliberately.

AI love a slow build when I know the payoff is going to be seismic — patience for a devastating reveal. BGive me relentless momentum — I want to feel breathless and emotionally spent by the end. CEpic runtime doesn't scare me — if the material demands three hours, give me three hours. DI want it to feel propulsive even when nothing is technically happening — restless energy throughout. EDeliberate and unhurried — I want dread to accumulate in the spaces between the action.

NEXT QUESTION →

What do you want to feel walking out of the cinema? The best films leave a mark. What kind of mark do you want?

AUnsettled — like I've just seen something I can't fully explain but can't stop thinking about. BMoved and energised — like the film reminded me what actually matters and gave me something to hold onto. CHumbled — like I've been in the presence of something genuinely important and overwhelming. DExhilarated — like I've just seen cinema doing something it's never quite done before. EHaunted — like a cold, quiet dread that stays with me for days.

REVEAL MY FILM →

The Academy Has Decided Your Perfect Film Is…

Your answers have pointed to one Oscar Best Picture winner above all others. This is the film that was made for the way your mind works.

Parasite

You are drawn to films that operate on multiple levels simultaneously — that begin in one genre and quietly, brilliantly migrate into another. Bong Joon-ho's Parasite is a film about class, desire, and the architecture of inequality that manages to be darkly funny, deeply suspenseful, and genuinely shocking across a single extraordinary running time. Your instinct is for cinema that hides its true intentions until the moment it's ready to reveal them. Parasite is exactly that — a film that rewards close attention and punishes assumptions, right up to its devastating final image.

Everything Everywhere All at Once

You want it all — and this film gives you all of it. The Daniels' Everything Everywhere All at Once is one of the most maximalist films ever made: action comedy, multiverse sci-fi, family drama, existential crisis, and a genuinely earned emotional core that sneaks up on you amid the chaos. You are someone who responds to ambition, who doesn't want cinema to choose between being entertaining and being meaningful. This film refuses that choice entirely. It is overwhelming by design, and its overwhelming nature is precisely the point — because the feeling of being crushed by infinite possibility is exactly what it's about.

Oppenheimer

You are drawn to cinema on a grand scale — films that understand history not as a backdrop but as a force, and that place their characters inside that force and watch what happens. Christopher Nolan's Oppenheimer is a film about the terrifying gap between what we can do and what we should do, told with the full weight of one of the most consequential moments in human history behind it. You want your films to feel important without feeling self-important — to earn their ambition through sheer craft and the gravity of their subject. Oppenheimer does exactly that. It is enormous, complicated, and refuses easy comfort.

Birdman

You are drawn to films that foreground their own construction — that make the how of the filmmaking part of the what it's about. Alejandro González Iñárritu's Birdman, shot to appear as a single continuous take, is cinema examining itself through the cracked mirror of a fading actor's ego. You respond to formal daring, to the feeling that a film is doing something that probably shouldn't be possible. Michael Keaton's performance and Emmanuel Lubezki's restless camera create something genuinely unlike anything else — a film that is simultaneously about creativity, relevance, self-destruction, and the impossibility of ever truly knowing if your work means anything at all.

No Country for Old Men

You are drawn to cinema that trusts silence, that refuses to explain itself, and that treats dread as a form of meaning. The Coen Brothers' No Country for Old Men is a film about the arrival of a new kind of evil — implacable, arbitrary, and utterly indifferent to the moral frameworks we use to make sense of the world. It is one of the most formally controlled films ever made, and its controlled restraint is what makes it so terrifying. You want your films to haunt you, not comfort you. You are not interested in resolution if resolution would be dishonest. No Country for Old Men is honest in a way that most cinema never dares to be.

↻ RETAKE THE QUIZ

'Get Out' (2017)

Daniel Kaluuya smiling for a crowd in Get Out

Horror gained newfound acclaim and prestige in the 2010s, with the term "elevated horror" used prominently to describe many of the films. While the term may be considered derogatory by many horror fans and filmmakers, it does speak to the overdue legitimacy lent to the genre during the decade. Perhaps the biggest splash came from Jordan Peele's Oscar-winning, generation-defining Get Out. The comedic creator showed the same skills in crafting scares as he did in crafting jokes, while embedding them in a sharp satire of "post-racial" America.

Released one month into Donald Trump's first presidency, Peele's film digs under the skin to expose an under-portrayed aspect of racial discrimination by white liberals that many had ignorantly ignored or denied during the years Barack Obama had been in the White House. The film takes aim at this white liberal racism through the horror story that surrounds Chris (Daniel Kaluuya), a young Black man who goes on a trip with his white girlfriend to meet her parents, who harbor some dark secret under their suburban facade. Get Out is an American horror story, and its place in history is assured.

'Parasite' (2019)

Parasite is another masterpiece by South Korean filmmaker Bong Joon Ho, who has made a career out of films that straddle different genres with an incredible command of tone. Parasite is alternately funny, thrilling, unsettling and even slightly scary in moments as it unfolds the layers of its narrative. It became the first non-English language film to win the Academy Award for Best Picture, and its status hasn't diminished since.

The film follows two families, the lower-class Kims and the wealthy Parks. One by one, the members of the Kim family infiltrate the home of the Parks as employees. Not soon after, they make a discovery that upends their entire plan and reveals another level of class to the complicated conflict. Parasite is never headed in the direction you think it is, but each twist and turn of the plot feels like a natural progression. Parasite was the final masterpiece of the 2010s and looks to stand the test of time forever.

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