If You Like Pluribus, These Are the 10 Films That Inspired It, According to Vince Gilligan

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Ignacio Weil

Entertainment - November 30th 2025, 13:00 GMT+1

Cropped Pluribus — About This Gallery:

For this list, we focused on the films that sparked Vince Gilligan’s imagination while shaping *Pluribus*, a series that stands miles apart from earlier triumphs like *Better Call Saul* and *Breaking Bad*. To keep things honest, we only included the titles he’s personally acknowledged as influences.

That way, we’re not guessing or over-interpreting – we’re tracing the exact cinematic DNA that helped *Pluribus* become the strange, ambitious creation it is. | © High Bridge Productions

Cropped the truman show — The Truman Show (1998)

Gilligan clearly has a soft spot for the unsettling idea of life as spectacle – and *The Truman Show* captures that paranoia beautifully. Imagine a perfectly curated suburban town that’s actually a giant TV set, and the star doesn’t even know he’s on camera. That echo of surveillance, performance and constructed reality resonates deeply with the world of *Pluribus*. The movie’s satirical edge cuts into questions of identity, free will and who’s really in control – and those are core themes in Gilligan’s work. At the same time, there’s a very human loneliness in Truman’s journey, the way he craves something real beyond the spotlight. Watching it feels like unpacking a mirror version of *Pluribus*’s philosophical dilemma. | © Paramount Pictures

Cropped After Life 1998 — After Life (1998)

This Japanese gem that Gilligan mentions feels almost like a meditation rather than a movie, and that contemplative calm shows up in *Pluribus*’s quieter moments. In *After Life*, the recently deceased must choose a single memory to relive forever – a weirdly gentle but emotionally seismic mandate. That emphasis on memory, what we hold onto and how that defines us, resonates with Gilligan’s interest in characters haunted by their past choices. Instead of bombastic action, the film uses soft conversations and subtle reveals to land major emotional blows. Its pacing and tone may feel far from typical high-stakes drama, but you can see how it could serve as a spiritual well for the show’s quieter existential beats. | © Engine Film / TV Man Union

Cropped Defending Your Life 1991 — Defending Your Life (1991)

There’s a delightful mix of whimsy and deep philosophical inquiry in *Defending Your Life*, and Gilligan’s nod to it makes total sense. The story follows a man who must defend his earthly life in a cosmic court after he dies – a setup that treads familiar territory for *Pluribus*’s moral gymnastics. In this world, mistakes don’t just fade: they’re examined, judged, and absorbed into a larger existential ledger. The humor is gentle but sharp, and the characters face self-reflection in a way that’s uplifting rather than preachy. Gilligan likely admires how it blends personal growth with metaphysical stakes – something that shows up in *Pluribus* when characters wrestle with conscience under surreal circumstances. | © Geffen Film Company

Cropped They Live — They Live (1988)

If *Pluribus* were secretly about social control and hidden hierarchies, *They Live* would be one of its cinematic ancestors – and Gilligan seems to think so too. At first glance, it’s a simple sci-fi action movie: a drifter finds sunglasses that reveal reality isn’t what it seems, and the rich elite are actually aliens. But that twist is a metaphor, loud and clear, for propaganda, consumerism and power disguised as normalcy. Watching it feels like peeling back a societal mask, something Gilligan does frequently by exposing what’s behind his characters’ facades. The film’s mix of satire, fear and sudden clarity creates a tone that aligns surprisingly well with *Pluribus*’s more subversive commentary. | © Alive Films

Cropped The Quiet Earth 1985 — The Quiet Earth (1985)

Gilligan’s choice of *The Quiet Earth* hints at another dimension in *Pluribus –* isolation, existential dread and the weight of being the last witness. In this film, a scientist wakes up to find himself seemingly alone in the world and must grapple with whether the apocalypse is real or just another illusion. That eerie solitude, combined with the internal conflict over what’s left of humanity and science, feels very on-brand for Gilligan’s storytelling: characters are often left alone with their moral questions in high-concept situations. The slow build of tension, the sparse scores, and the surreal visuals all contribute to a meditative feeling – an emotional and philosophical emptiness that the show mirrors in quieter episodes. | © Mr. Yellowbeard Productions / Cinepro

Cropped The Thing — The Thing (1982)

Gilligan seems drawn to the paranoia that simmers when you don’t know who – or *what –* you’re dealing with, and *The Thing* is the ultimate cinematic embodiment of that paranoia. Set in a remote Antarctic research base, the movie follows a group of scientists who slowly realize one of them might not be human anymore. The isolation, creeping distrust, and constant shape-shifting echo the existential uncertainty that *Pluribus* explores in its own twisted, high-concept way. Carpenter’s creature effects relentlessly toy with identity, and Gilligan probably admires how every trust relationship is a ticking time bomb. The sense that nothing is stable, not even the people you think you know, adds a deliciously claustrophobic tension. Ultimately, the film doesn’t just scare you – it unnerves you philosophically, which lines up beautifully with the show’s emotional undercurrents. | © Universal Pictures

Cropped The Shining — The Shining (1980)

At its core, *The Shining* is a deeply psychological horror film: a family isolated in a sprawling, haunted hotel, a father’s sanity unraveling in slow, sinister beats. Gilligan’s mention of it suggests he resonates with the way Kubrick builds dread from silence, snowdrifts and flickering corridors rather than jump scares. There’s something eerily precise in how the Overlook Hotel becomes a character itself – almost like a labyrinth of memory, guilt and unspoken tension. That mirrors *Pluribus*’s interest in internal spaces, where characters aren’t just battling external threats but their own regrets and secrets. The way the movie lingers on Jack Torrance’s breakdown, shot after shot, gives it a meditative dread that’s hard to shake. And when you suspect that every mirror or hallway could hide something terrible, you realize that for Gilligan, *Pluribus* might be doing something very similar but with higher stakes. | © Hawk Films

Cropped The Omega Man 1971 — The Omega Man (1971)

Gilligan’s taste for the post-apocalyptic isn’t limited to bleak landscapes – he also seems fascinated by what happens when loneliness becomes your only companion. In *The Omega Man*, Charlton Heston plays Robert Neville, possibly the last “normal” human, wandering a world decimated by plague and populated by mutated outcasts. That hopeless solitude, mixed with fragile hope, echoes *Pluribus*’s darker emotional beats: characters who might be alone in their suffering even when surrounded by others. The mutant antagonists offer more than just danger – they reflect the fear of what humanity becomes when it’s torn apart by catastrophe. Neville’s relentless quest for purpose in a broken world feels like a moral crucible that Gilligan could easily transpose into his own narrative-laden universe. The film’s tone isn’t just action or survival – it’s quietly tragic, and that kind of layered despair feels very *Pluribus*. | © Warner Bros.

Cropped village of the damned 1960 — Village of the Damned (1960)

This chilling classic, with its eerie, identical children and unnervingly calm atmosphere, feels like a perfect match for Gilligan’s fascination with hidden power structures. *Village of the Damned* centers on a small town suddenly overtaken by children who share psychic abilities and a disturbingly unified mindset. That sense of otherness – an entire generation operating under a shared, frightening intelligence – resonates with the kind of existential horror *Pluribus* excels at: people forced to contend with unseen forces and chilling unity. The film’s tension isn’t built on gore but rather on the slow, creeping realization that things are deeply wrong. Gilligan likely appreciates how the children’s collective calmness is far more terrifying than any loud monster. In the world of *Pluribus*, where control and identity are constantly in question, this movie feels like a haunting spiritual cousin. | © Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer

Cropped Invasion of the Body Snatchers — Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956)

If you’re looking for the origin of cinematic paranoia, *Invasion of the Body Snatchers* might be it – and it’s not hard to see why Gilligan would consider it a major influence on *Pluribus*. The movie’s core horror lies in the idea that your neighbors, friends, even loved ones, could be emotionless duplicates grown from alien pods. That’s identity horror 101, and *Pluribus* dives into that trench, too – characters aren’t always sure who they are, or who’s real. The film’s mood is quietly terrifying, not because of loud monsters, but because the invasion happens slowly, in the shadows, under the guise of normalcy. That gradual, insidious takeover resonates with Gilligan’s fascination for internal threat: not just monsters, but mirror-like versions of ourselves. Watching it feels like a warning: beware conformity, and be suspicious of peace that’s too perfect. | © Walter Wanger Productions

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Trying to decode the cinematic DNA behind Pluribus feels a bit like rummaging through a very stylish toolbox: every scene seems to echo some classic influence, and none of them are exactly subtle about it. Luckily, Vince Gilligan has already spilled the beans on the movies that helped shape the show, giving us a peek at the films hovering in the creative background like proud, slightly chaotic parents.

This list rounds up the titles he cites as direct inspirations – ten films that left fingerprints all over the series in tone, pacing or moral messiness. Whether you’re rewatching Pluribus for the hundredth time or just curious about where its mood came from, these movies offer a neat little roadmap. Consider it a cinematic treasure hunt curated by Gilligan himself.