If you’re like most folks, you likely draw a blank when someone asks what you believe is the greatest film of all time. What if you answer with confidence, only to lie awake in the middle of the night convinced you should’ve picked something different? And do you opt for the movie you adore most, or one widely recognized as a masterpiece? After all, if you go with a classic default choice—Citizen Kane, Casablanca, —no one can say you have , or odd taste. Or the wrong taste.
After putting together and adding notes to my own list of the 100 top films from the past 100 years—split by decade, 10 movies each—I’m here to tell you there’s no such thing as wrong taste. And if there does exist something like bad or odd taste, my suggestion is to embrace it. No one can tell you what to like; your preferences are as unique as your fingerprints. What’s more, the question is made more complex by the fact that there are so many ways to measure greatness. Is the best movie the one you can watch any time, the one that always boosts your spirits? Is it the one that makes you cry the most? Or the one with actors you never get bored of watching?
What you consider great will be personal to you. In this instance, I’m sharing my own take. The internet is packed with polls that have figured out—by asking film critics and filmmakers to vote—what are supposedly the greatest films ever made. This list isn’t from a poll. Beyond the question of whether we even need another film survey, choosing via a group tends to flatten the concept of loving movies into a smooth, plain surface, as if crunching enough numbers will give the correct answer. But just like people, our tastes are far more subtle; there’s no objective truth when it comes to art. Our movie preferences are shaped by some intangible spark of excitement, joy, deep lingering sadness, or a mix of all three. In that way, our favorite films aren’t about taste at all—they’re about tuning into what truly resonates with us.
So how did I pick these 100 films? I’ve been making these choices for over 50 years. These are movies that blend technical skill and heart. They often have standout performances. For one reason or another, they move me deeply.
And every one of them says something, in some form, about the time they were created; they’re markers of the events we’ve witnessed, the places we’ve been, and the experiences of our ancestors—or, more precisely, some of our ancestors. The sad reality is that for most of the 20th century, the film industry was dominated by white men, at least when it came to those behind the camera. (Women made their presence felt with outstanding performances, many of which are included in this list.) There were definitely working in the early decades—Alice Guy-Blaché, Dorothy Arzner, Ida Lupino—but until the 1960s and ’70s, the barriers to getting into the field were steep. The same holds true for filmmakers of color, especially in the U.S. For much of the 20th century, Black artists found it easier to make an impact in music, literature, and painting than in film. There are exceptions: the early part of the century saw a boom in so-called race films, made specifically for Black American viewers. Novelist and filmmaker Oscar Micheaux was an early, successful trailblazer, but it would take decades for filmmakers like Charles Burnett, Melvin Van Peebles, and to establish themselves. In that regard, a part of the past 100 years of cinema is an empty space full of unfulfilled potential. American history is rife with such gaps, and they reveal a lot about who we are.
Another point about this list: it has what some will view as obvious omissions, including many of those go-to classics. There’s no , no , no , no . It’s not that I don’t like those films. But sometimes the directors of those movies have made other works I enjoy more: think Orson Welles’ The Magnificent Ambersons or Michael Curtiz’s Mildred Pierce—excellent films that deserve a moment in the limelight.
Since this list is organized by decade, certain patterns and themes emerged that naturally influenced my selections. For example, any list of great films might include a couple of works each by Howard Hawks and , mixed in with others. But looking closely at each decade also means rethinking filmmakers with long careers: the same person who directed Scarface in the 1930s had a completely different message in the late 1950s with Rio Bravo. And some decades filled up faster than expected—especially the 1950s, which left many beloved films out. It’s almost hard to believe that All About Eve, Tokyo Story, Sunset Boulevard, Gun Crazy, and The Breaking Point aren’t on this list, but I had to prioritize. The days I had to cut films like Alien,Fantastic Mr. Fox,Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World,Cold War, and John Guillermin’s 1976 King Kong (which I like better than the original) were not pleasant.
On the bright side, this list has more comedies than most lists based on polls. are often the underdogs; everyone wants to be seen as serious, so comedies—even the best ones from directors like Hawks, Preston Sturges, or Billy Wilder—are often dismissed as trivial. But they often show more heart than so-called serious films—if films can be said to have hearts, which I believe they can. That’s why our love for movies is so broad and deep that no single list, whether made by one person or a team of experts, can capture it all. Instead of trying to please some unseen authority of movie objectivity, I hope this list encourages a sense of curiosity, adventure, and creativity. Quirks are a big part of what makes us fall for other people. They’re also the core of our love for movies—the “wrong” taste that’s actually perfect.
