Best Movies of 2019
From Bong Joon-ho's historic Oscar sweep to intimate character studies that redefined storytelling, 2019 stands as one of cinema's most exceptional years in recent memory. Whether you're searching for the best movies of 2019 or looking to catch up on the critically acclaimed films you might have missed, this carefully curated selection of 21 outstanding releases showcases why this year captivated audiences worldwide. The year delivered an extraordinary range of groundbreaking cinema, from award-winning dramas that dominated the festival circuit to powerful documentaries that changed perspectives, along with beautifully crafted period pieces and innovative indie productions that pushed creative boundaries. These top films of 2019 represent the pinnacle of cinematic achievement, featuring masterful direction, career-defining performances, and unforgettable narratives that sparked conversations long after the credits rolled. Each movie on this list earned its place through critical acclaim, cultural impact, and artistic excellence, offering something for every type of film enthusiast—whether you gravitate toward emotional family sagas, thought-provoking social commentaries, or stunning visual storytelling that transcends language barriers.
In this film, director Bong Joon-ho crafts a masterwork that defies genre classification while delivering devastating commentary on class inequality. The impoverished Kim family executes an elaborate scheme to infiltrate the wealthy Park household by posing as unrelated professionals—a tutor, an art therapist, a driver, and a housekeeper. What begins as a darkly comic con artist tale steadily transforms into something far more unpredictable and disturbing. Song Kang-ho leads the ensemble cast with his trademark everyman charm, while Lee Sun-kyun and Cho Yeo-jeong embody the Parks' oblivious privilege perfectly. Bong's direction is immaculate, using the contrasting architecture of half-basement and hillside mansion to visualize social hierarchies, while his script reveals layers upon layers without ever feeling forced. The film builds to shocking developments that feel both inevitable and completely surprising, creating a singular cinematic experience that's essential viewing.
Devastating in its beauty and profound in its restraint, Céline Sciamma's period romance stands as one of the finest love stories committed to film. Set in 18th-century France, the film follows painter Marianne (Noémie Merlant) who is commissioned to secretly paint a portrait of Héloïse (Adèle Haenel), a reluctant bride who refuses to pose. As Marianne observes Héloïse to paint her from memory, the two women develop an intense connection that transforms both their lives. Sciamma directs with exquisite patience, allowing glances and gestures to carry the weight of longing, while cinematographer Claire Mathon captures candlelit interiors and windswept coastlines with painterly precision. The film explores not just love but the act of looking itself—how we see and are seen, how art captures and transforms reality. Haenel and Merlant deliver performances of stunning emotional depth, communicating volumes through subtle shifts in expression. This is filmmaking as portraiture, each frame composed with the care of the painting at its center, building to a final sequence that achieves genuine transcendence.
In war-torn Aleppo, Syria, filmmaker Waad Al-Kateab documented five years of her life through the siege, creating an extraordinary first-person account of survival, resistance, and motherhood under unimaginable circumstances. Co-directed with Edward Watts, this documentary presents footage Al-Kateab shot as a love letter to her daughter Sama, explaining the world she was born into and why her parents chose to stay. The intimacy of the perspective—following Al-Kateab's husband, a doctor treating casualties in a makeshift hospital, while she raises their baby amid bombardment—creates devastating emotional impact. This isn't journalism from a safe distance; it's lived experience transformed into essential testimony. The film bears witness to both horror and humanity, showing moments of joy and connection even as the city crumbles. It's a masterpiece of documentary filmmaking that demands to be seen, a powerful reminder of the human cost of conflict.
Director Alexander Nanau follows a team of investigative journalists as they expose systemic corruption in Romania's healthcare system following a nightclub fire tragedy. This absolutely riveting documentary plays like a political thriller, granting unprecedented access to the journalists at Gazeta Sporturilor as they uncover shocking layers of fraud and government cover-ups. Nanau's fly-on-the-wall approach captures the painstaking work of holding power accountable, with Catalin Tolontan and his reporting team emerging as genuine heroes of democracy. The film builds tension masterfully as each revelation leads to more questions, culminating in a portrait of institutional rot that feels both specifically Romanian and universally relevant. It's essential viewing that reminds us why fearless journalism matters more than ever in our current moment.
Warm, vibrant, and brimming with life, this adaptation of Louisa May Alcott's beloved novel feels utterly fresh while honoring its source material. Director Greta Gerwig crafts a non-linear narrative that draws fascinating parallels between the March sisters' artistic ambitions and the constraints of their era. Saoirse Ronan leads an exceptional ensemble cast including Florence Pugh, Emma Watson, and Eliza Scanlen, each bringing depth and individuality to their roles. What makes this version so special is how it sharpens the story's feminist themes—particularly through Jo's struggle between artistic integrity and commercial necessity. Timothée Chalamet captures Laurie's boyish charm and eventual heartbreak beautifully. The costume design and cinematography create a painterly aesthetic that draws you completely into the world. Gerwig has achieved something remarkable here: a classic story reimagined with such intelligence and heart that it feels simultaneously timeless and urgently contemporary.
This devastating drama about divorce stands as one of the most emotionally honest films about relationships falling apart. Director Noah Baumbach orchestrates a masterclass in acting from Scarlett Johansson and Adam Driver as Nicole and Charlie, a creative couple whose marriage dissolves amid career ambitions and custody battles. What makes the film extraordinary is its refusal to take sides—both characters are flawed, both are sympathetic, and both inflict wounds they can't take back. Driver and Johansson deliver career-best performances, particularly in a confrontation scene that's almost unbearably raw. Laura Dern provides sharp support as a high-powered divorce attorney who turns personal pain into professional warfare. Baumbach captures the small moments—the lingering looks, the paperwork, the impossible logistics of shared parenting—that make divorce feel achingly real rather than cinematically heightened.
Breathtaking in every sense, Todd Douglas Miller's documentary about the 1969 moon landing eschews narration and talking heads entirely, instead assembling newly discovered 70mm footage and audio recordings into a purely cinematic experience. The film places viewers directly inside the Apollo 11 mission from launch through splashdown, using only archival material to create something that feels both historically authentic and thrillingly immediate. Miller's team meticulously restored the footage and synchronized it with Mission Control audio, resulting in sequences—particularly the Saturn V launch and lunar landing—that possess jaw-dropping visual power. What's remarkable is how the film balances intimate moments inside the spacecraft with the massive scale of the crowds watching from below, making this feel simultaneously like a personal journey and a collective human achievement. The score by Matt Morton, performed on period-accurate synthesizers, adds emotional resonance without overwhelming the images. This is documentary filmmaking as pure visual storytelling, transforming familiar history into something genuinely awe-inspiring.
Martin Scorsese crafts an epic meditation on loyalty, mortality, and the passage of time in this sprawling chronicle of hitman Frank Sheeran's life in organized crime. Robert De Niro delivers a haunting performance as Frank, whose matter-of-fact narration contrasts with the weight of his actions, particularly his complicated relationship with Teamster leader Jimmy Hoffa (Al Pacino in one of his finest recent roles). The de-aging technology allows Scorsese to span decades, though it works better in service of the story's themes about aging and regret than as mere technical showcase. Joe Pesci comes out of retirement to give a quietly menacing performance as Russell Bufalino, the boss who guides Frank's trajectory. At three and a half hours, the film demands patience but rewards it with Scorsese's mature reflection on a life spent in violence—the final act's lonely, regretful stillness hits harder than any of the earlier brutality. This is master-level filmmaking from a director reckoning with his own legacy and mortality.
Wang Jingchun delivers a devastatingly subtle performance as Yaojun, a factory worker whose life is irrevocably altered by personal tragedy in director Wang Xiaoshuai's epic family drama. Spanning three decades of modern Chinese history, the film follows Yaojun and his wife Liyun (Yong Mei, equally remarkable) as they navigate the aftermath of losing their only son, eventually making the wrenching decision to leave their hometown and start anew. What makes "So Long, My Son" so profoundly moving is its patient, observant approach to grief and resilience—this is a film that understands how trauma ripples across years and how ordinary people carry extraordinary burdens. The three-hour runtime never feels excessive; instead, it allows the story to breathe and the characters to reveal themselves in small, heartbreaking gestures. Both lead actors won Silver Bears at Berlin, and their chemistry anchors this deeply humanistic portrait of love, loss, and the quiet heroism of endurance.
This is pure cinematic adrenaline—a anxiety-inducing thriller that never lets you catch your breath from its opening frame to its devastating conclusion. The Safdie Brothers direct Adam Sandler in a career-best performance as Howard Ratner, a New York Diamond District jeweler whose gambling addiction and mounting debts spiral catastrophically out of control. Sandler brings manic energy and surprising depth to this deeply flawed character who keeps making terrible decisions even as his world collapses around him. The film's frenetic pacing and overlapping dialogue create constant tension, trapping viewers inside Howard's chaotic existence. Supporting performances from LaKeith Stanfield, Julia Fox, and NBA star Kevin Garnett (playing himself) add authenticity to this grimy, neon-soaked portrait of self-destruction. It's exhausting, exhilarating, and absolutely unforgettable—a masterclass in sustained tension.
Lulu Wang directs this beautifully observed family drama based on her own experience of her grandmother's terminal cancer diagnosis—and the family's decision not to tell her. Awkwafina delivers a revelation of a performance as Billi, a Chinese-American writer who returns to China with her family for what's ostensibly a wedding but is really a chance to say goodbye to Nai Nai (Zhao Shuzhen), the beloved matriarch. Wang explores the cultural divide between Eastern and Western approaches to illness and death with nuance and empathy, never suggesting one perspective is definitively right. The film is funny, sad, and achingly specific in its details about immigrant family dynamics and the complicated nature of belonging to two cultures. Zhao is magnetic as the grandmother whose vitality and humor make the family's secret feel both protective and heartbreaking. It's a tender, wise film that trusts audiences to sit with moral complexity.
This naturalistic coming-of-age drama follows fifteen-year-old Shola, nicknamed Rocks, as she navigates London's East End with her tight-knit group of friends, balancing school, dreams, and the typical dramas of adolescence—until her mother's sudden disappearance forces her into desperate self-reliance. Directors Sarah Gavron and writer Theresa Ikoko collaborated with their young cast through extensive workshops, and that process yields remarkable authenticity in both the performances and the dialogue, which crackles with the specific rhythms and humor of teenage girls supporting each other. Bukky Bakray is revelatory as Rocks, capturing both her character's fierce independence and the vulnerability she struggles to hide as circumstances become increasingly dire. The film portrays female friendship with rare nuance and warmth, showing how Rocks' crew—particularly her loyal friend Sumaya (Kosar Ali)—becomes her lifeline when family structures collapse. Gavron keeps the camera close and mobile, creating intimacy without voyeurism, while the naturalistic performances never feel like actors hitting marks but rather like captured reality. "Rocks" addresses serious issues of poverty, abandonment, and systemic failure without losing sight of its protagonist's agency and resilience, or the joy these girls find in each other's company. It's a deeply empathetic film that trusts its young characters and audience alike, resulting in one of the most authentic portrayals of contemporary teenage girlhood in recent cinema.
The collision between traditional subsistence living and encroaching modernity forms the heart of this extraordinary documentary set in North Macedonia's remote mountains. Hatidze Muratova, the last female wild beekeeper in Europe, practices an ancient sustainable method of honey harvesting until a nomadic family arrives, disregarding her warnings and greedily exploiting the local bee population. Co-directors Tamara Kotevska and Ljubomir Stefanov spent three years filming, capturing footage of such intimacy and beauty that the line between documentary and fable dissolves entirely. Hatidze emerges as an unforgettable protagonist, caring for her ailing mother while maintaining a delicate balance with nature that the modern world increasingly refuses to respect. The film's patient observation reveals universal themes about environmental stewardship, the sustainability of traditional knowledge, and the human cost of taking more than nature can provide. Visually stunning and deeply moving, it's a profound reminder that the choices we make ripple outward in ways we can't always foresee, and that some wisdom shouldn't be forgotten.
Nora Fingscheidt announces herself as a major filmmaking talent with this searing portrait of a nine-year-old girl whose violent outbursts have made her impossible to place in Germany's child welfare system. Helena Zengel delivers an absolutely fearless performance as Benni, a child whose trauma manifests in explosive rage that alienates everyone trying to help her. Fingscheidt refuses to sentimentalize or simplify, instead presenting the grueling reality faced by social workers, foster families, and the child herself with unflinching honesty. The handheld camerawork creates visceral immediacy without feeling exploitative, and Albrecht Schuch is exceptional as the care worker who refuses to give up on Benni despite the physical and emotional toll. This is essential cinema that illuminates a crisis often kept invisible, combining social realism with genuine compassion for all involved in an impossible situation.
A profound meditation on identity, communication, and adaptation drives this extraordinary character study from director Darius Marder. Riz Ahmed delivers a career-defining performance as Ruben, a heavy metal drummer whose world collapses when he suddenly loses his hearing. Rather than rushing toward a fix, the film immerses us in Ruben's experience, using innovative sound design to place viewers inside his shifting reality. Paul Raci brings quiet wisdom to his role as Joe, who runs a deaf community where Ruben must confront whether he's trying to fix something broken or learning to embrace a new way of being. Olivia Cooke grounds the story as Lou, Ruben's bandmate and partner. The film asks challenging questions about disability, recovery, and the human need for control without offering easy answers, resulting in a deeply affecting and transformative cinematic experience that lingers long after the credits roll.
At its core, this is a meditation on creativity, mortality, and the ways our past shapes our present. Pedro Almodóvar directs Antonio Banderas in an achingly personal performance as Salvador Mallo, a filmmaker whose physical ailments and creative block force him to confront his memories and relationships. The film moves fluidly between Salvador's present-day struggles and vivid childhood memories of his mother (played with warmth by Penélope Cruz), creating a tapestry of experience that feels deeply autobiographical. Almodóvar's visual palette is characteristically rich, with bold colors that somehow never feel artificial but rather heighten the emotional truth of each scene. The film treats artistic creation as inseparable from life itself, exploring how pain and beauty become intertwined in the work we leave behind. Banderas has never been better, bringing vulnerability and dignity to a character facing decline with his eyes wide open. This is mature, contemplative cinema that earns every one of its emotional moments.
George MacKay as Lance Corporal Schofield delivers a breathtaking performance in Sam Mendes' technical marvel that follows two British soldiers racing against time during World War I. The film's seemingly continuous single-take cinematography by Roger Deakins pulls you directly into the trenches, making every step of the perilous mission feel immediate and visceral. MacKay and Dean-Charles Chapman must cross enemy territory to deliver a message that will save 1,600 men from walking into a trap. The result is an immersive, heart-pounding experience that combines old-fashioned storytelling with groundbreaking cinematography. It's a war film that earns every bit of its emotional impact through stunning visuals and raw human drama, never letting up on tension from start to finish.
When Ford Motor Company sets out to build a race car capable of dethroning Ferrari at the legendary 24 Hours of Le Mans, they recruit visionary car designer Carroll Shelby and hot-headed British driver Ken Miles to make the impossible possible. Director James Mangold delivers an absolutely exhilarating racing drama that somehow makes corporate boardroom battles just as thrilling as white-knuckle track sequences. Matt Damon and Christian Bale are phenomenal together, their chemistry driving every scene with wit, warmth, and masculine vulnerability. The racing sequences are masterfully crafted—you'll feel every gear shift, every hairpin turn, every moment of terror and triumph. What could have been a standard sports movie becomes something far richer: a meditation on artistry versus commerce, friendship, and the beautiful obsession of pushing machines and humans to their absolute limits. Pure cinematic adrenaline.
Director Derek Tsang crafts an emotionally devastating examination of bullying, class, and the impossible pressures facing Chinese youth through this gripping thriller. Two teenagers—academic overachiever Chen Nian and small-time street tough Xiao Bei—form an unlikely protective bond as Chen faces relentless torment from classmates during the high-stakes gaokao exam period. Zhou Dongyu and Jackson Yee deliver absolutely heartbreaking performances, conveying the desperation of young people trapped by circumstances beyond their control. Tsang's film works simultaneously as an intense thriller, a tender romance, and a searing social critique of educational systems that push students to the breaking point. The cinematography bathes everything in neon-lit urban decay, creating a world where adults are absent or ineffectual and teenagers must fend for themselves. What begins as a story about bullying evolves into something far more complex about sacrifice, justice, and the moral compromises survival sometimes demands. This is powerful, essential cinema.
In a small theater before a live audience, Phoebe Waller-Bridge performs the original one-woman show that would later become the groundbreaking television series. This National Theatre Live recording captures the raw, electric energy of Waller-Bridge's stage performance, where she embodies multiple characters while addressing the audience with shocking intimacy and fourth-wall-breaking brilliance. Director Vicky Jones, Waller-Bridge's longtime collaborator, keeps the staging minimal, allowing the writing and performance to command complete attention. What emerges is a masterclass in comedic timing, emotional vulnerability, and theatrical storytelling that feels simultaneously hilarious and heartbreaking. Watching Waller-Bridge navigate her character's messy life, inappropriate thoughts, and family dysfunction with such fearless honesty is absolutely thrilling. For fans of the series, this is essential viewing that reveals the DNA of what made "Fleabag" so revolutionary. It's comedy that cuts deep, performed with extraordinary skill and audacity.
Haunting and visually arresting, Lemohang Jeremiah Mosese's debut feature announces a significant filmmaking talent. Mary Twala Mhlongo, in one of her final performances, plays an elderly woman in rural Lesotho who begins planning her own funeral after learning her last remaining family member has died. What begins as a story about accepting death transforms into something far more political and transcendent as the protagonist confronts forces threatening her community's ancestral land. Mosese films the mountainous landscape with painterly composition, creating images that feel both documentary-real and mythically timeless. The deliberate pacing and symbolic storytelling demand patience, but viewers willing to meet the film on its own terms will find a profound meditation on resistance, dignity, and spiritual transformation. Mhlongo's performance carries immense weight and presence, making her character's journey feel both intimately personal and universally resonant.