20 Essential A24 Movies Every Film Lover Must See

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Ignacio Weil

Entertainment - May 6th 2025, 22:31 GMT+2

I Saw the TV Glow (2024)

Imagine growing up haunted not by ghosts, but by the afterglow of a late-night TV show that maybe—just maybe—knew you better than your own parents. *I Saw the TV Glow* is a neon-drenched fever dream from Jane Schoenbrun that unpacks queerness, memory, and identity through the lens of pop culture obsession. Justice Smith leads with an aching vulnerability that lingers like static on an old VHS tape, while Brigette Lundy-Paine brings eerie magnetism to a role that’s hard to forget. The film feels like it was beamed from another dimension, one filled with glowing CRTs and unresolved teen angst. It’s surreal, tender, and totally unlike anything else A24’s released—which is saying something. | © A24

Cropped The Brutalist — The Brutalist (2024)

You’ve seen period dramas. You’ve seen architecture films. But have you seen a postwar immigrant epic dressed in cold concrete and existential dread? *The Brutalist*, from director Brady Corbet, is a cerebral slow-burn that’s as much about what’s not said as what is. Adrien Brody anchors the film with his signature haunted charm, while Felicity Jones adds emotional weight with a performance that says, “Yes, I too understand the struggle of modernist design and personal displacement.” The film sprawls across decades and continents, examining the cost of creation in an unfeeling world. It's not light viewing, but it is the kind of movie that makes you Google “Brutalism” and then question your apartment walls. | © A24

Cropped Past Lives — Past Lives (2023)

If you’ve ever wondered what it would feel like to cry for an hour and a half, *Past Lives* is your answer. This quietly devastating debut from Celine Song takes a simple premise—two childhood friends reunite decades later—and turns it into a poetic exploration of fate, timing, and the heartbreak of roads not taken. Greta Lee is luminous and layered, while Teo Yoo delivers a heartbreak so subtle, it sneaks up on you like a memory you didn’t know still hurt. John Magaro rounds out the trio with a performance that’s as grounded as it is generous. It’s a love story, but not in the way you expect—more like a ghost story about the people we could have been. | © A24

Cropped The Zone of Interest — The Zone of Interest (2023)

What happens when evil is framed not with horror music or jump scares, but with sterile domestic normalcy? Jonathan Glazer’s *The Zone of Interest* stares into the abyss of the Holocaust from just outside the camp walls, focusing on the family life of an Auschwitz commandant. Christian Friedel and Sandra Hüller (in a chillingly precise performance) embody a version of banality that’s deeply unsettling. The horror is in the sound design—the everyday hums and distant screams that remind you where you are, even when the camera refuses to look. It’s not comfortable, and it’s definitely not easy, but it’s a brutal reminder of how silence and complicity shape history. | © A24

Cropped Aftersun — Aftersun (2022)

Charlotte Wells' *Aftersun* is one of those movies that creeps up on you emotionally and then sucker-punches your soul during the credits. Paul Mescal—yes, your favorite emotionally tortured Irishman from *Normal People*—plays a young father trying to give his daughter a beautiful vacation while quietly unraveling. Frankie Corio, in an astonishing debut, perfectly captures the curiosity and confusion of adolescence. It’s a film built on small gestures and sun-dappled memories, the kind that feel like they were pulled directly from your own childhood. You’ll laugh, you'll ache, and you’ll definitely Google “1990s camcorders” out of pure nostalgia. | © A24

Cropped Everything Everywhere All At Once — Everything Everywhere All At Once (2022)

If you’ve ever wondered what would happen if *The Matrix*, *Kung Fu Hustle*, and your deepest unresolved mother-daughter trauma had a chaotic love child—well, welcome to *Everything Everywhere All At Once*. The Daniels (yes, two guys named Daniel) crafted a multiversal extravaganza that’s somehow absurd, existential, action-packed, and emotionally raw *all at once*. Michelle Yeoh gives a career-best performance (in a career full of bests), jumping from laundromat owner to opera diva to pinky-wrestling queen like it's just another Tuesday. And Ke Huy Quan? He didn’t just return—he *arrived*, with a performance that broke and healed hearts worldwide. It’s a film about bagels, butt plugs, and the meaning of life. And yes, it works. | © A24

Cropped the tragedy of macbeth — The Tragedy of Macbeth (2021)

Who needs color when Denzel Washington is giving you Shakespeare in crisp, black-and-white cinematic glory? Joel Coen’s *The Tragedy of Macbeth* strips the Scottish play down to its bare, moody essentials—and somehow makes it feel brand new. Washington commands the screen with regal rage, while Frances McDormand (Coen’s real-life queen) is a Lady Macbeth who could talk you into murder with a single raised eyebrow. Kathryn Hunter also swoops in as the Witches in one of the most deliciously weird and unsettling performances this side of *Twin Peaks*. It’s minimalist, it’s mesmerizing, and it makes iambic pentameter sound cooler than it has any right to. | © A24

Cropped Minari — Minari (2020)

You know that warm, bittersweet ache that comes with remembering childhood? That’s *Minari*—a gentle, stunning story about a Korean-American family chasing the American dream in 1980s Arkansas. Steven Yeun leads with quiet grace, playing a father determined to build a life from scratch, while Yeri Han, Alan Kim, and Noel Cho complete a family dynamic that feels deeply lived-in. But let’s be honest: it’s Youn Yuh-jung who steals the entire film as the feisty grandma who’s “not like other grandmas”—and who went on to win an Oscar for her trouble. There’s farming, there’s family tension, and yes, there’s minari (a Korean herb that thrives where it’s planted—just like this film). | © A24

Cropped Uncut Gems — Uncut Gems (2019)

*Uncut Gems* is a two-hour panic attack—and that’s a compliment. The Safdie Brothers crafted a relentless, anxiety-inducing thrill ride through the diamond district of New York, and Adam Sandler (yes, *that* Adam Sandler) proves once and for all that he’s got serious acting chops. As Howard Ratner, a gambling-addicted jeweler with a chaotic personal life and an even messier financial situation, Sandler is a force of manic energy you can’t look away from. Lakeith Stanfield and Julia Fox bring extra fire, while NBA legend Kevin Garnett shows up playing… himself? And somehow, it *works*. This is not a relaxing movie—it’s cinematic caffeine, and it’ll leave your heart racing. | © A24

Cropped Midsommar — Midsommar (2019)

So you think horror movies only happen in the dark? Ari Aster says *hold my flower crown*. *Midsommar* is a sun-soaked, slow-burn nightmare set in a remote Swedish commune where things go from “quaint pagan festival” to “emotional evisceration” real quick. Florence Pugh delivers a star-making performance as Dani, a grieving woman whose vacation turns into a floral fever dream of grief, manipulation, and very questionable rituals. Jack Reynor co-stars as the boyfriend who’s... let’s just say, not winning any awards for emotional support. It's unsettling, oddly beautiful, and surprisingly cathartic—especially if you've ever wanted to scream through a breakup in a field of cultists. | © A24

Cropped The Farewell — The Farewell (2019)

Based on “an actual lie,” *The Farewell* is the kind of film that sneaks up on you—making you laugh, cry, and then question your moral compass, all within 100 minutes. Awkwafina ditches her comedic shell and delivers a beautifully restrained performance as Billi, a Chinese-American woman torn between two cultures when her family decides not to tell their beloved grandmother that she’s dying. Directed by Lulu Wang, the film delicately balances grief, humor, and dumplings (yes, dumplings) in a way that feels deeply personal and totally universal. It’s the rare kind of story that makes family tension feel poetic and oddly cozy. And Nai Nai? She’s iconic. Protect her at all costs. | © A24

Cropped first cow — First Cow (2019)

In *First Cow*, Kelly Reichardt dares to ask: what if the most tender bromance of the decade was between a quiet baker and an entrepreneurial drifter in 1820s Oregon? John Magaro and Orion Lee play the duo in question, and their scheme to make oily cakes using stolen cow’s milk is both illegal *and* deeply endearing. This isn’t your typical frontier story—it’s slow, hushed, and all about friendship, capitalism, and fried dough. Yes, it's about the American dream, but also, it’s about *vibes*. You’ll come for the cow, but stay for the companionship. It’s like if *The Revenant* hugged you and offered you a biscuit. | © A24

Cropped The Florida Project — The Florida Project (2017)

Welcome to the happiest place on Earth—just a few miles away from Disney World and light-years from stability. Sean Baker’s *The Florida Project* turns its lens on life in the margins, following six-year-old Moonee (Brooklynn Prince, a revelation) as she turns a rundown motel into her personal playground. Willem Dafoe, in a career-highlight performance, plays the motel manager with equal parts gruffness and heart. It’s a film full of cotton candy-colored heartbreak, where the innocence of childhood collides with the harsh realities of poverty. Raw, funny, and devastating in equal measure, it’s the kind of movie that punches you in the heart while offering you an ice cream cone. | © A24

Cropped Lady Bird — Lady Bird (2017)

Greta Gerwig’s *Lady Bird* is the teen coming-of-age film that makes you want to call your mom and apologize for every fight you had in high school. Saoirse Ronan is pitch-perfect as the titular Lady Bird, a Sacramento teenager with big dreams, a rebellious streak, and a flair for dramatic exits. Laurie Metcalf brings maternal passive-aggression to Shakespearean levels as her mother, and Timothée Chalamet (in peak ironic edge-boy mode) and Lucas Hedges round out the romantic chaos. It’s heartfelt, hilarious, and so specific that it somehow becomes universal. Also, any movie that turns college applications into a soul quest deserves canonization. | © A24

Cropped The Lobster — The Lobster (2017)

Ah, *The Lobster*—the most romantically unromantic film ever made. Directed by Yorgos Lanthimos and starring a gloriously deadpan Colin Farrell, this dystopian dating satire imagines a world where single people must find a romantic partner within 45 days or be turned into an animal of their choice. Rachel Weisz shows up halfway through to throw a wrench (and some awkward charm) into the system, and suddenly things get even weirder. It’s absurd, darkly hilarious, and filled with the kind of dialogue that makes you question whether love is a blessing or a bureaucratic trap. Still, Colin in glasses? Weirdly adorable. | © A24

Cropped Moonlight — Moonlight (2016)

Let’s be honest: *Moonlight* didn’t just win Best Picture—it redefined what that win could mean. Directed by Barry Jenkins, this triptych of a film follows Chiron, a young Black boy growing up in Miami, across three transformative chapters of his life. Alex Hibbert, Ashton Sanders, and Trevante Rhodes each bring a different shade of quiet power to the same soul, while Mahershala Ali (in an Oscar-winning role) delivers wisdom, warmth, and a surprising amount of tenderness as a drug dealer with a conscience. And Naomie Harris? She takes emotional whiplash to masterclass levels as Chiron’s troubled mother. It’s heartbreakingly beautiful, unapologetically poetic, and not a single word—or silence—is wasted. | © A24

Cropped The Witch — The Witch (2015)

*The Witch* (or as the font insists, *The VVitch*) is where A24 horror truly found its creepy footing. Robert Eggers' Puritan nightmare is set in 1600s New England, where the goats scream, the forest watches, and Black Phillip becomes the breakout star of Satanic livestock everywhere. Anya Taylor-Joy—making her unforgettable debut—shines as Thomasin, a girl stuck between religious repression and supernatural chaos. The film speaks in thee’s and thou’s, but don’t worry, it also speaks fluent “slow-burn dread that burrows into your spine.” It’s atmospheric, eerie, and will absolutely make you suspicious of your farm animals. Wouldst thou like to live deliciously? Yeah, same. | © A24

Cropped Room — Room (2015)

Grab tissues. Then grab backup tissues. *Room*, directed by Lenny Abrahamson, is a devastating but ultimately life-affirming story about a mother and son trapped—literally and emotionally—in a single small space. Brie Larson won an Oscar for her searing performance as Joy, a woman raising her young son Jack (played by the astonishing Jacob Tremblay) after years in captivity. But the magic is in how the film expands—once they escape, *Room* becomes a story about trauma, recovery, and learning to breathe again in a world that suddenly feels too big. It’s gut-wrenching but never gratuitous, and proof that the bond between mother and child can survive even the unimaginable. | © A24

Cropped Ex Machina — Ex Machina (2014)

What do you get when you trap a coder, a CEO, and a lifelike robot in a minimalist bunker with questionable lighting? Existential dread and one hell of a dance scene, that’s what. *Ex Machina*, written and directed by Alex Garland, is sleek, cerebral sci-fi that asks if artificial intelligence can be conscious—or just cunning. Domhnall Gleeson plays the curious programmer, Oscar Isaac slays (and shimmies) as the tech-bro mad genius, and Alicia Vikander stuns as Ava, the AI whose eyes alone could start a revolution. It’s stylish, suspenseful, and the kind of movie that makes you unplug your smart speaker for a week… just in case. | © A24

Cropped Under the Skin — Under the Skin (2013)

Scarlett Johansson in a white van, luring unsuspecting Scottish men into an interdimensional black void? Yep, that’s *Under the Skin*—a hypnotic, experimental sci-fi odyssey that’s equal parts unsettling and oddly meditative. Directed by Jonathan Glazer, this film floats somewhere between horror, art installation, and alien nature documentary. Johansson is eerily effective as a seductive extraterrestrial who begins to question her own humanity—or lack thereof. With minimal dialogue and an unforgettable score that feels like it was beamed from space, this is a movie that doesn’t just get under your skin—it burrows in and *lingers*. Bonus: you’ve never seen Scotland look so otherworldly. | © A24

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Since its launch in 2012, A24 has rapidly become one of the most influential names in independent cinema. Renowned for championing bold storytelling, striking visuals, and emotionally resonant narratives, the studio has delivered some of the most talked-about films of the past decade. From genre-defining horror like The Witch to Oscar-winning triumphs like Moonlight and Everything Everywhere All At Once, A24’s catalog is as deep as it is diverse.

With such a rich lineup, narrowing it down to just 20 essentials is no easy task — which is why we’re spotlighting only one film per director to ensure a broader look at the studio’s creative range. Whether you're a devoted cinephile or just starting your A24 journey, these are the must-see titles that define the spirit of modern indie filmmaking.