My 9 Most Visually Stunning Movies of the 21st Century

1. The Tree of Life

The Tree of Life is no modest project; the goal of which is to make you feel the weight of all time and space as it sends you from the beginning of the cosmos- the big bang- and all the way up to a coming of age story of 3 boys living in a small American town. The magic is really in its very obvious beauty, done through an elliptical storytelling style and palpable imagery that is at times apotheosis-level mesmerising and delicate at others.

Put all this in the context of the universe’s conflict between nature and grace, and suddenly the micro becomes the macro, as every shot and plot line are representative of a larger story about life. Its heavy stuff and not for everyone, but in my books, certainly one of the most gorgeous and magnificent movies of all time.

2. The Great Beauty

The Great Beauty leaves no moment unturned, making sure every frame is a work of opulence, demanding you to witness the power of the visual. Especially in the moments of Sorrentino’s signature soft sweeping camera movements that surreptitiously capture a symmetrical water fountain or a swirling staircase with just the perfect amount of sunlight glimmering through its gaps. In the first 10 minutes I was in a film lover’s state of euphoria.

In fact, the entire film is perhaps about this relationship we have with the visual, said through the character arc of Jep Gambardella who, while partying by night and having intellectual conversations by day, seems to express a comfortable disenchantment with it all.  

At its core, the film is about a grieving nostalgia we all have when we get older for the better days, when art seemed purer and less tainted by postmodernism, monetisation and simple repetition. Specifically, for the days of Fellini films like La Dolce Vita, of which this movie is an apparent hat-tip to.

3. Roma

The beauty of Roma is that somehow, and it really is difficult to pin down how, it manages to make you feel as if you have just opened someone’s brain and you are watching a memory. Shot in black and white; a kind of neorealist aesthetic, the movie was indeed intended to be just that; a memory from director’s Alfonso Cuaron’s childhood.

Cleo, the house maid, is at the centre of it all, employed by a middle class family in Mexico in the 70s, struggling with all the things humans tend to struggle with; heartbreak, joy, disappointment, hope.

And somehow, Cuaron transforms this quotidian and already-told story, into something more assuredly pure, beautiful and important as it laces it within the context of the grander struggle for women and the poor under systemic oppression. Every scene captures multitudes; the more you watch, the more you find prophecies in the compositions and meaning in the background.

4. Mr Nobody

Mr Nobody is not just a movie but a philosophical discussion on existentialism. Highly chaotic, it tells you this through the parallel worlds of Nemo, played by Jared Leto, who seems to be questioning his existence and the meaning of life. Though it was a contemplator’s playground for me, many other of its critics thought it a bore and too messy.

But in the existential wandering, the movie seemed to be telling me that messiness is a simple fact of life. But that there is beauty amongst it all. And in the movie’s cinematography too there is indeed beauty to be found.

The stylised aesthetic of the past is kitsch, with its forced mise-en-scene, clean pastel and ever echoing Sandman soundtrack. It’s as if the frames were styled by someone obsessed with symmetry and perpendicular angles and it’s a perfectly surreal cinematic experience. But this eccentricity is also interspersed with beautiful wide angle shots and unforgettable intimate close up moments during instances of intense human connection. 

5. Hero

Hero is one of many Zhang Ziyi films that all had epic and stunning on their to-do list. Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon, House of Flying Daggers- I could have chosen any of them but I chose Hero for a couple of its fights scenes of which the backdrop, editing and production is beyond, in my opinion, what Hollywood has ever achieved. One is of a fight that takes place on a serene lake and the other witnesses a fight scene montage that continues through all the seasons. We see the soft candy pink of spring blossoms, the harsh red and orange of autumn, through to the pure and delicate white of winter.

The power in Ziyi’s masterpiece comes from the way in which he interweaves colour and nature with the emotions and turmoil of the characters. And of the fighting that looks like dancing, which Ziyi is famed for, is also a spectacle. Whether or not you connect with the storyline, this is first and foremost a film for the eyes.

6. Embrace of the serpent

Ciro Guerra’s black and white movie, or some could say ethnography, follows two intertwined storylines of explorers in different decades being guided by a warrior-shaman into the remote jungles of the Columbian Amazon. Though the premise may evoke memories of Apocalypse Now and Fitzcarraldo, much of the beauty in this film derives from how the colonialist perspectives of these films have been inversed, letting this time, the shaman lead the way.

As they meander the river in their canoe, we see intimidating point of view shots of the jungle and the narrative drifts almost unnoticeably between the two timelines. Guerra doesn’t miss any opportunity for the mystical and metaphor in his shots. A shot of the famous cobra eating its own young, a stalking leopard ever watchful and threatening- uproarious comments perhaps on colonialism. You begin to feel that you have been transported to a world of dream logic. The ever-presence of nature in the shots is less claustrophobic than it is reassuring, as its opulence and calm inform us that this is not just a remote place but the home of many.

7. Coffee and Cigarettes

Coffee and cigarettes is another black and white film. But unlike the last two films, this black and white doesn’t so much indicate a reporting on something from another time or place. It’s more of a pastiche homage to that 60s- 70s mod look. Even if the film were shot in colour, you could guess that everything was black and white anyway- from black and white checkered tables, black coffee, white cigarettes, black leather jackets and mod black and white suits. But why all the black and white? Honestly, because it’s cool. And that’s precisely what this film oozes.

A simple succession of cool people having conversations over coffee and cigarettes in various cafes- including the likes of Tom Waits, Iggy Pop and Jack White. It captures beautifully the ephemerality of life, answering the question you always ask when people watching- I wonder what they’re talking about- what’s their story?

8. Birdman

In its own right, Birdman is a spectacularly thoughtful film that, even without considering its stunning imagery, I believe deserved its best feature film Oscar. But Birdman also got the Oscar for best cinematography. Part of this is undoubtedly due to the fact that it is beautifully and unconventionally shot in entirely one edit. This is while the storyline spans a few nights. With this Innaritu blurs the line between the reality within the film and the reality that the spectator possesses. Really, this whole film is an obsession with all things ‘meta’ and ultimately is about the desperate search for the difference between truth and meaning.

Visually, it manifests that postmodern feeling in a very carthartic way: the suspense built by the sweeping camera, speeding up, then slowing down erratically, the jazz drum score getting louder, then quieter. Then there’s the intense push-ins on our characters faces as their emotions flow over from their monologuing into the claustrophobia of the shot and it suddenly has to pan away to explore something new.

Intelligent as it is stunning, Birdman for me is a triumph of cinema and honestly maybe one of the best movies ever made.

9. Lost in Translation

Lost in Translation makes you feel like you are lost in a between world where the narratives of home have faded into the distance, and all there is, is the present and your lonely self. You feel it in the aggressiveness of the use of shallow focus on the characters and how they always seem to be peering off camera, people watching. Until that is, they find each other, Bob and Charlotte.

A lot of people have said they don’t get this film- nothing seems to happen and what is exactly Lost in Translation? Other than the obvious culture clash between Westeners and Japanese. Perhaps the film is capturing the feeling in the characters that life is a bit drab and mundane and what is lost is their sense of purpose or identity- and being in this wildly different culture has helped them realise that. It’s a reflective moment for both the characters and that’s underlined by the constant imagery of reflections. Something about the colours Coppola uses as well, like it is always that strange lonely time in the late afternoon. But it’s not just in the colours, the film is the closest I’ve ever seen an art form come to capturing the ineffable feeling of loneliness so precisely.