KC’s cinema scene share our ballots for Best Films of the 21st Century

Art by Teddy Rosen

Earlier this summer, The New York Times released a big list of the best films of the 21st century so far (that’s 2000-2025, for all you numerically challenged folks), as chosen by writers, actors, filmmakers, and other industry folks. It featured a lot of the movies you’d expect to see in a big prestige-y list, including Bong Joon-Ho’s Parasite in the number one spot.

The internet was immediately completely normal about this (obviously). Nobody had any problems with any of the picks, and if they did, they were totally justified and not weird and populist about it at all (just kidding, we’re all still arguing about it).

Of course, that list is only one sector’s opinion. Kansas City has a great, diverse community of filmmakers and artists with excellent movie taste, and we wanted to know what movies they’d pick, if given the chance. So we gave it to them.

Here is a selection of favorite movies from the last 25 years, as chosen by some of the filmmakers, artists, programmers, and other folks that make our community’s filmmaking scene a vibrant, thriving place.

Allison Lloyd—filmmaker, co-founder of Stray Cat Film Center

Allison Lloyd is the co-founder of Stray Cat Film Center—an artist-run nonprofit microcinema and community space in Kansas City’s Crossroads district.

Pulse (2001) dir. Kiyoshi Kurosawa

Twin Peaks: The Return (2017) dir. David Lynch

I Saw the TV Glow (2024) dir. Jane Schoenbrun

Jackass Number 2 (2006) dir. Jeff Tremaine

Don’t Let the Riverbeast Get You (2012) dir. Charles Roxburgh

“1999 was the End of History. It looked like the systems of civilization were in place and the good times were ahead, only for everyone to wake up and find themselves stuck in the same oppressive world as before. We’re still living with the collective hangover, which is reflected back at us in our best films. I think this implies a list of Top Downers, but I want you to know some of these are brimming with optimism and humor. They all come with an acknowledgement of how hard-won joy can be in this world. Sometimes you have to DIY. Sometimes you hurt yourself to make your friends laugh. In the 21st Century, beauty exists in spite of the systems we’ve built, not because of them.”

Enrique Chi—musician, Making Movies

Enrique Chi is the frontman for the singular and beloved Kansas City band Making Movies. The band released three live albums last year, and are currently at work on a short film.  

Waking Life, 2001, dr. Richard Linklater

“One of my best friends shared Waking Life with me, and it helped forge our friendship as we both came of age. Richard Linklater’s dreamlike exploration of consciousness not only deepened my own introspection, but also affirmed my belief that the most profound thing human beings can do is be vulnerable with each other as we explore the unknowns of our consciousness.”  

Napoleon Dynamite, 2004, dir. Jared Hess

“Okay, so Napoleon Dynamite was a completely different but equally powerful experience (from Waking Life). Around the time, my family moved to Lee’s Summit so I could attend school with a great ESL program. Lee’s Summit can feel pretty rural and strange at times, and I don’t think I’ve ever laughed harder than I did watching Napoleon Dynamite. It gave me a lens to see the bizarre, beautiful absurdity of culture in the United States.”  

Enter the Void, 2009, dir. Gaspar Noé

“Enter the Void hit me like a psychedelic experience before I even knew what that meant. Like Waking Life, it was a film that invited me to question not just reality, but my own belief systems, including the idea of past lives. It cracked something open in me.”

Mulholland Drive, 2001, dir. David Lynch

“I had a chance to see Mulholland Drive at the Tivoli theater recently and fell back in love with David Lynch.  What a master of the language!”  

Rudo y Cursi, 2008, dir. Carlos Cuarón

“Finally, Rudo y Cursi—I was drawn to it because of Diego Luna and Gael Garcia Bernal, two of my favorite actors, who crack me up throughout this. Though arguably not their best film, their characters are so hilarious and relatable to me. I also wanted to be a soccer star as a kid and ended up a musician.” 

Austin Snell—filmmaker

Austin Snell is the writer and director of the films Exposure and They Call Her Death, now available on blu-ray from Vinegar Syndrome.

Godzilla Minus One, 2023, dir. Takashi Yamazaki

“I’m a Godzilla lifer. When I was a kid, my grandpa and I visited Duncan’s Movie Magic video store in Topeka to rent Godzilla tapes so frequently that they started calling him ‘Godzilla Grandpa.’ The TOHO Studios logo is tattooed on my left forearm. The big guy is in my blood, and getting a Godzilla movie of this quality so late into his cinematic career was such an unexpected gift. Shin Godzilla (2016) is superb as well, but Minus One wins out by employing the novel approach of making us deeply invested in the humans for a change. I never expected to be so emotionally devastated by the human story of a Godzilla film, and this one brought me to tears in the theater multiple times. So I went back again and cried some more.”

The Nice Guys, 2016, dir. Shane Black

“People love to highlight the delineation between good films and good movies. When I say The Nice Guys is the latter, know that I’m saying it with the utmost love and admiration. Back when I worked in the video store at Liberty Hall in Lawrence, this was always my go-to recommendation for when someone was on the hunt for a good time. I’m happy to see it seems to have found its people as the years have gone on. If you haven’t seen it yet, do.”

Nebraska, 2013, dir. Alexander Payne

“The rural Midwest has never felt more palpably real than this. Having been a Kansas boy my whole life, everything about this movie feels so achingly familiar. There is a slow, deliberate pacing and composition that feels distinctly like the midwestern soul being put on display.  Excellent cast, cinematography, and score… just beautiful. God bless Bruce Dern.”

Burn After Reading, 2008, dir. Joel and Ethan Coen 

“Time periods in filmmaking are anchored by their seminal classics, and I think it’s fair to say the first leg of the new millennium was partly defined by the works of the Coen brothers. No Country For Old Men is undoubtedly all over lists about the top films of this era—and rightfully so—but the feature that followed it up is the one I rewatch the most. Burn After Reading feels like it was a palate cleanser for the Coens after the colossal achievement of No Country, which makes for a brisk and hilarious film about our inability (or unwillingness) to communicate with each other and the disasters that result. The situations in the film only seem more real as we’ve stepped into our current climate, rife with echo chambers and diverging ideas of truth. As the CIA officer played by J.K. Simmons says, ‘Report back to me when it makes sense.’  It never will.”

Morvern Callar, 2002, dir. Lynne Ramsay

“Genius is a pretty hefty word to throw around, but Lynne Ramsay might truly fit the bill. After a young woman’s boyfriend commits suicide, she sells his unpublished novel and uses the money to experience a new life. What ensues is a unique and visually arresting exploration of grief that is often too beautiful to describe. Ramsay has gone on to make some higher profile (though still very indie) films in recent years, but her first few features are still her masterpieces in my opinion. Check out Ratcatcher too.”

Jill Gevargizian—filmmaker

Jill Gevargizian is a producer, writer, and director of many films including 2020’s The Stylist, which she wrote and directed, and 2024’s Ghost Game, which she directed from a script by Adam Cesare.

All of us Strangers, 2024, dir. Andrew Haigh 

“‘I suppose we don’t get to decide when it’s over.’ All of Us Strangers is an incredibly powerful film about loss, the preciousness of time, and love!  The main character, Adam, heals himself through this practice of visiting his parents through his writing. Incredible.” 

The Rider, 2017, dir. Chloe Zhao

“What a feat—This film is basically a documentary but told in the form of a narrative. The real people play themselves, which takes bravery I can’t comprehend. The way Bradly Jandreau (the lead actor, playing himself) is so gentle, gracious, and strong with everyone and everything in his life is so moving, beautiful, and inspiring. An incredible human and an incredible story.” 

Before Sunset, 2004, dir. Richard Linklater

“‘You were for me that night, everything I always dreamt of in life.’ After 10 years, we finally get to catch up with Jesse and Celine from Before Sunrise (1995). The tension between them throughout the entire film, especially when they’re walking up the stairs to her apartment at the end, is absolutely perfect.” 

Arrival, 2016, dir. Denis Villeneuve

“‘Despite knowing the journey and where it leads, I embrace it and welcome every moment of it.’ Arrival is a devastatingly beautiful and moving piece of art. The way it approaches time in a circle rather than a line is so profound. It touched the deepest part of my heart.“

The Banshees of Inisherin, 2022, dir. Martin McDonagh

“‘You used to be nice. Or did you never used to be? Oh god… Maybe you never used to be.’ What an incredible film about loneliness, friendship, self-awareness, identity, the end of life. What’s really important, accomplishments or how you treat people, who and what will be remembered?”

Jacob and Ben Burghart—filmmakers

Jacob and Ben Burghart are the minds behind the 2020 short film Suspense and the 2023 feature Head Count.

Speed Racer, 2008, dir. Lana and Lilly Wachowski

“Coming out in 2008 did Speed Racer no favors, as audiences at the time were craving gritty reboots like The Dark Knight. It landed with a thud, brushed off as Spy Kids meets Death Race 2000—which honestly, sounds awesome. The Wachowskis are absolutely unleashed here: disembodied heads wipe the screen, shots blend in wild, fluid ways, and everything is bursting with color. But unlike the occasionally incoherent Spider-Verse films, Speed Racer never loses focus. Only Mad Max: Fury Road rivals its clarity in depicting speed and chaos. But Speed Racer wins on pure catharsis, thanks to the climactic moment of the final race and Michael Giacchino’s soaring score. We love the earnestness, the ingenuity, and even the monkey.”

It Follows, 2014, dir. David Robert Mitchell

“‘Elevated horror’ is a tired label, often used to mean slow, moody, and trauma-based. It sells short, bold filmmakers like David Robert Mitchell. It Follows is often read as an STD parable, but it’s really about longing, lust, fading youth, ennui, and the fear of death. Told entirely from Maika Monroe’s perspective—part of her killer 2014 one-two punch with Adam Wingard and Simon Barrett’s The Guest—the film never undercuts her agency. Mitchell reminds us of Richard Kelly. Both nail a kind of goth suburban malaise (Donnie Darko) and both filmmakers pivot to a paranoid, idiosyncratic, and endlessly fascinating follow up (Southland Tales for Kelly, Under the Silver Lake for Mitchell.) The John Carpenter vibes are obvious—the synth score, the creeping camera—but just as crucial is the influence of Gregory Crewdson’s eerie suburban photography. Images like the clam-shaped e-reader or the ethereal glowing pool scene feel pulled right out of the corners of Mitchell’s brain.”

No Country for Old Men, 2007, dir. Joel and Ethan Coen

“The two of us seem to find the ‘serious’ Coen movies more funny than their comedies. ‘But it’s got two double beds!’ the hotel worker pleads with Llewelyn Moss. The movie’s black humor undercuts the unbearable dread running throughout. The tone is uniquely theirs (maybe it’s a Midwest thing?). It feels like the Coens are just out of frame, cracking themselves up as they engineer scenes for maximum effect. It’s a vicious piece of filmmaking. There’s no score. The main character dies halfway through. There’s no closure, no reassurance. Life is random and difficult, and it all just sorta ends.”

Zodiac, 2007, dir. David Fincher

“What we love about Zodiac is that it just keeps going. Everything is slippery—the facts, the clues, the streets, time. While most procedural crime films build to a sweeping, satisfying climax, Zodiac feels more like real life: people move on, people forget, and the bad guys get away with it. Jake Gyllenhaal’s character fighting through that futility for years is both a noble and a tragic quality. As justice becomes more abstract, there’s something profound about anyone earnest (or crazy) enough to keep chasing it. The lakeside attack, the phone call with Brian Cox, the basement scene—moment after moment, Fincher tightens his grip. His obsession wasn’t just with shaping the mystery in a clear narrative. His obsession was making a perfect movie. He probably did.”

Zero Charisma, 2013, dir. Katie Graham and Andrew Matthews

“Before geek culture ruled the world, Zero Charisma captured the divide between the nerds who lived it and the ones who branded it. Scott is a schlubby, old-school D&D lifer. His campaign gets disrupted when Miles, a horn-rimmed glasses-wearing geek tourist, joins his group. Miles’ effortless charm wins over others, but Scott is suspicious. Late in the film, they face off in a LARP-style sword fight. Scott takes it too far, knocking Miles to the ground, but in the end, Miles wins. 10 years later, guys like Miles run pop culture, endlessly recycling IP and claiming to champion imagination while showing none of it themselves. What even is a “nerd” anymore when Elon Musk is memeing the world into ash and we’re on our fifth Fantastic Four reboot? Zero Charisma is a sharp little movie that saw all this coming.”

Sav Rodgers—filmmaker, executive director, Transgender Film Center

Sav Rodgers is the director of Chasing Chasing Amy. In 2020, he founded the Transgender Film Center, which helps trans creators bring finished stories to audiences.

Barb and Star Go to Vista Del Mar, 2021, dir. Josh Greenbaum 

Birds of Prey (and the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn), 2020, dir. Cathy Yan

Chicago, 2002, dir. Rob Marshall

Moulin Rouge!, 2001, dir. Baz Luhrmann  

Sorry to Bother You, 2018, dir. Boots Riley

“Picking only five favorite films since 2000 feels borderline illegal, but here we are. These are the flicks I keep coming back to obsessively. With each watch, I learn something new about what it means to be a cinematic storyteller. Firmly rooted in a broad imagination that informs the execution, often to comedic or devastating dramatic effect, these are films that dare to dream bigger. These masterpieces all remind me that when incredible filmmakers are given the space to take risks and follow their instincts, the result isn’t just entertainment. It’s the reason we make art at all.”

Willy Evans—co-founder, Kansas City Underground Film Festival

Will Evans is the co-founder of the Kansas City Underground Film Festival, a free film festival highlighting the work of low-budget/no-budget and underseen filmmakers, both locally and globally. 

The Act of Killing, 2012, dir. Joshua Oppenheimer

“Joshua Oppenheimer’s documentary is the most daring work of filmmaking I have ever seen. He gains intimate access to perpetrators of mass violence, not just to expose them but to lead them on a radical journey of self-confrontation. By staging surreal reenactments of their crimes, Oppenheimer forces these men to face what they have done, sometimes sparking a dawning self-awareness of their own monstrosity. The final scene remains the most unforgettable moment in my entire experience with cinema.”

In the Mood for Love, 2000, dir. Wong Kar-Wai

“Perhaps the most beautiful film ever made, Wong Kar-Wai’s In the Mood for Love absolutely oozes style. It carries a timeless, effortless cool. The story unfolds in unconventional and unexpected ways, always with class and absolute confidence. It may lack the philosophical depth that draws me to other films on this list, but holy shit, it is just so cool. It is a movie I wish I could live in, filled with images and sequences that will live forever in my mind.”

The Assistant, 2019, dir. Kitty Greenwood

The Assistant is often unfairly reduced to surface-level metaphor and the cultural moment it depicts. It tells the story of an assistant to a Weinstein-esque film producer who struggles within a hostile, predatory work environment, becoming a small cog in a machine built to destroy her while simultaneously exploiting the ambitions of many others. While very much a film of its time, The Assistant also captures the disaffections of work under late-stage capitalism. Drawing on a lineage that includes Chantal Akerman (Jeanne Dielman, 23, quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles), it offers a deep, nuanced portrait of how we live now.”

Weekend, 2011, dir. Andrew Haigh

“The universe is infinitely vast, but it also expands in the opposite direction into the impossibly small. That is how I feel watching Andrew Haigh’s Weekend, which zooms in on and elevates the microscopic. It follows two people over a single weekend as they fall in love, knowing they cannot stay together. In expanding this brief encounter, Haigh reveals a world so complex it feels as vast as a galaxy. You fall in love, truly and absolutely, even while knowing the story must end.”

Cache, 2005, dir. Michael Haneke

“Michael Haneke’s film feels cold and enigmatic at first. A man begins receiving tapes showing footage of the front of his own house, soon accompanied by ominous notes. As tension builds, he uncovers answers from his past. There is a mystery to unravel, but the truth is we have known the ending all along. We cling to mystery to avoid confronting the thing we dread, the great sin hiding at the heart of ourselves. The story works as a metaphor—both for personal guilt and the collective wrongs of a nation.”

Ryan Njenga—filmmaker

Ryan Njenga is a Kenyan-American artist and filmmaker based in Kansas City. Check out Ryan’s work at @ryannjenga and @njengafilms on Instagram.

Norbit (2007), dir. Brian Robbins

(From Brian Wilson’s interview in the Asbury Park Press)

Q. Have you seen any good movies lately?

A. Well, I’ve only seen one in the last couple of years. It’s called Norbit by Eddie Murphy.

Q. How did you like it?

A. Fantastic movie. Very funny.

Q. What’s your favorite movie?

A. Norbit.

Columbus (2017) & After Yang (2021), dir. Kogonada

Columbus and Kogonada’s follow-up After Yang are beautiful explorations of grief, identity, and the interior lives of their lost and yearning characters. As the writer-director-editor of both, Kogonada’s an undersung genius, a true auteur who’s defined the 21st century independent film scene in just two feature films, alongside some well-crafted essays. In both films, there are shots, beats, and ideas that are forever etched in my brain, my heart and my soul.

Star Wars: The Last Jedi (2019), dir. Rian Johnson

The best Star Wars movie since The Empire Strikes Back. Not the best Star Wars movie, but the best movie from Star Wars.

Inherent Vice (2014), dir. Paul Thomas Anderson

Paul Thomas Anderson is the greatest living American director in his prime. Each one of his films this century has shifted cultural paradigms and inspired generations of filmmakers, to the point where any one of his films could be named as someone’s favorite and it’d be a respectable choice. Inherent Vice has always been the underdog, however, long, confusing, hazy. Watching it can make you feel as lost as Joaquin Phoenix’s Doc Sportello. But the film remains one of Anderson’s most unique creations, at times hilarious, beautiful, frightening, and full of yearning.

The Simpsons Movie (2007), dir. David Silverman

The first movie I ever cried to.

Moonrise Kingdom (2012), dir. Wes Anderson

Of course, Wes Anderson has better films; The Royal Tenenbaums remains his most accessible. The Grand Budapest Hotel is his most ambitious and prescient. Asteroid City is his smartest and most existential. But even while he’s spent his last decade exploring the meaning of his purpose and pursuit as a storyteller, Moonrise Kingdom still stands tall as the one that hits at the core of what Anderson is all about: the hurt of a dysfunctional family and two young, heart-broken souls finding connection and holding on tight through the thunderstorm that is the real world. It’s a perfect, artificial snapshot of young love. Sam and Suzy have to grow up and change—we all do—but the island community of New Penzance never does.