If You Understood These 20 Movies, You're Smarter Than You Think

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Ignacio Weil

Entertainment - May 24th 2025, 00:07 GMT+2

Cropped beau is afraid 2023 — Beau Is Afraid (2023)

If you made it through *Beau Is Afraid* without pausing to question your own sanity—or at least Joaquin Phoenix’s—then you’re doing better than most. Ari Aster’s surreal epic is like taking a panic attack, bottling it, and projecting it in IMAX. Phoenix plays Beau, a man so drenched in fear and guilt he makes Hamlet look well-adjusted. The film spirals through reality, animation, theatre, and pure existential dread without so much as a warning label. If you managed to decode the overbearing mother symbolism, the commentary on societal pressure, and the layers of meta storytelling, you’re not just smart—you’re possibly clairvoyant. | © A24

Cropped tár 2022 — Tár (2022)

*Tar* is the kind of film that expects you to keep up—and doesn’t apologize if you can’t. Cate Blanchett delivers a powerhouse performance as Lydia Tár, a brilliant, complex, and increasingly unstable orchestra conductor who seems to live somewhere between genius and ego implosion. The movie doesn’t just ask you to watch; it asks you to listen—to the subtext, the silence, the score, and the ethical unraveling happening just beneath the surface. If you picked up on the layers of satire, commentary on cancel culture, and the way time itself subtly fractures in the storytelling, then you were definitely tuned in. Or at least conducting some impressive mental gymnastics of your own. | © Focus Features

Cropped tenet 2020 — Tenet (2020)

Watching *Tenet* feels like being dropped into an advanced calculus class halfway through the semester—with no textbook and a countdown clock. Christopher Nolan doubles down on his love of nonlinear narratives with a film that plays with time like a Rubik’s Cube caught in a time loop. John David Washington takes the lead as the aptly named Protagonist, supported by a delightfully cryptic Robert Pattinson. They move through forward and reversed time simultaneously, often in the same scene, with the film barely pausing to explain itself. If you left the theater understanding the mechanics of temporal inversion—or even just pretending you did—you deserve a Nobel Prize in Pretend Physics. | © Warner Bros. Pictures

Cropped im thinking of ending things 2020 — I’m Thinking Of Ending Things (2020)

This is not just a breakup movie—it’s a psychological descent into the very core of memory, identity, and mortality. Charlie Kaufman’s *I’m Thinking of Ending Things* begins with a seemingly simple drive through the snow, but it quickly dissolves into something more dreamlike and disorienting. Jessie Buckley and Jesse Plemons give performances that morph, quite literally, as the narrative folds in on itself like a book being read backwards. If you realized halfway through that this wasn’t just about a doomed relationship but an exploration of a man’s fractured psyche in his final moments, you probably had to lie down afterward—and rightfully so. | © Netflix

Cropped annihilation 2018 — Annihilation (2018)

*Annihilation* is what happens when science fiction decides it wants to be a poetic meditation on the human condition—and also a terrifying monster movie. Natalie Portman leads a team of scientists (including Tessa Thompson and Jennifer Jason Leigh) into "The Shimmer," a mysterious zone where nature has gone rogue and the laws of biology are politely ignoring reality. The film is visually stunning, deeply philosophical, and at times, straight-up horrifying. If you understood that the alien force wasn't just changing the environment but reflecting each character’s inner conflict, then give yourself a gold star. You didn’t just watch a sci-fi thriller—you stared into the abyss and understood it was staring back. | © Paramount Pictures

Cropped the killing of a sacred deer 2017 — The Killing Of A Sacred Deer (2017)

If you finished *The Killing of a Sacred Deer* and didn’t immediately spiral into a moral crisis—or at least double-check your relationships with teenage boys who speak in riddles—then hats off to your mental fortitude. Directed by Yorgos Lanthimos (a.k.a. the king of cinematic discomfort), this modern Greek tragedy stars Colin Farrell and Nicole Kidman as a couple who slowly realize their very normal suburban life is about to get very, very cursed. The film’s eerie dialogue and cold, clinical atmosphere are unsettling enough to give you goosebumps on your soul. If you caught the echoes of Euripides and didn’t flee during the spaghetti-eating scene, you’re probably operating at philosopher-level brainwaves. | © A24

Cropped predestination 2014 — Predestination (2014)

If *Predestination* didn’t make you question the entire concept of linear time, identity, and possibly your own reflection, you weren’t paying attention—or maybe your brain wisely tapped out to avoid overheating. This mind-warping sci-fi gem stars Ethan Hawke as a time-traveling agent chasing a mysterious terrorist… who may or may not be himself? Or herself? Or both? Without spoiling the twist (which is more like a metaphysical spiral), let’s just say the film makes *Back to the Future* look like a Sunday cartoon. Understanding how the timeline loops, folds, and eats itself takes some serious mental gymnastics—and if you pulled it off, we hope you're using your powers for good. | © Screen Australia

Cropped enemy 2013 — Enemy (2013)

What’s more unsettling than Jake Gyllenhaal? Two Jake Gyllenhaals. In *Enemy*, directed by Denis Villeneuve (long before he had sandworms to wrangle), Gyllenhaal plays both a glum history professor and his more confident doppelgänger, who may or may not be real, or a metaphor, or a spider. Yes, a spider. The film unravels like a waking nightmare—filled with strange patterns, cryptic clues, and a slow-boil sense of dread that makes you question your own shadow. If you finished this one and didn’t immediately Google “Enemy ending explained,” you are either a film studies professor or already fluent in psychological allegory. Either way: respect. | © Entertainment One

Cropped upstream color 2013 — Upstream Color (2013)

*Upstream Color* is one of those movies that doesn’t explain itself because it assumes you’ll feel your way through it. Shane Carruth (who wrote, directed, starred in, scored, and possibly whispered story notes to himself in the mirror) creates a deeply hypnotic experience about identity, connection, trauma, and—believe it or not—worms. Amy Seimetz joins him in a performance that feels part romance, part fever dream, part bio-tech horror. The plot is fragmented like a broken memory, and the editing dares your attention span to evolve. If you made sense of the story’s emotional logic and still had brain cells left to appreciate the experimental beauty of it all, you're not just smart—you’re tuned into a higher frequency. | © ERBP

Cropped holy motors 2012 — Holy Motors (2012)

If you walked out of *Holy Motors* thinking, “I’m not sure what I just saw, but I *felt* it,” you’re not alone—and you might just be brilliant. Leos Carax’s genre-defying, logic-ignoring masterpiece follows Denis Lavant through a day in which he plays everything from a banker to a sewer-dwelling gremlin to a dying old man. There’s also an accordion interlude, a chimpanzee, Eva Mendes being kidnapped by a monster, and a stretch limousine that may or may not be sentient. It’s performance art disguised as cinema—or maybe the other way around. If you found meaning (or joy) in its surreal, fragmented world, you’ve officially graduated from “movie lover” to “cinematic oracle.” | © Les Films du Losange

Cropped the tree of life 2011 — The Tree Of Life (2011)

If you watched *The Tree of Life* and didn’t mutter “Wait, are we in space now?” at least once, you either have a Zen master’s patience or a brain that operates on Terrence Malick’s wavelength. This visual tone poem stars Brad Pitt as a stern, loving, and emotionally complicated father, while Jessica Chastain floats ethereally through scenes like a walking metaphor for grace. Somewhere between the backyard of a 1950s Texas home and the birth of the universe, you’re invited to meditate on grief, existence, and what it means to be human. If you grasped the cosmic ambition of it all and didn’t fast-forward through the dinosaurs, you’re probably operating on interstellar intelligence. | © Fox Searchlight Pictures

Cropped enter the void 2009 — Enter The Void (2009)

Gaspar Noé doesn’t make films for comfort; he makes psychedelic gut punches, and *Enter the Void* is no exception. Told from the POV of a dead man tripping his way through a neon-drenched Tokyo purgatory, this film is one long out-of-body experience. Nathaniel Brown stars as Oscar, whose spirit floats through memory, trauma, and questionable life choices, while Paz de la Huerta brings raw, unfiltered emotion as his sister, Linda. It’s hypnotic, abrasive, and visually overwhelming—think *2001: A Space Odyssey* meets a strobe-lit fever dream. If you stayed locked in without having a spiritual crisis (or a migraine), you’re not just watching cinema—you’re astral projecting through it. | © Wild Bunch

Cropped Synecdoche New York 2008 — Synecdoche, New York (2008)

Only Charlie Kaufman could write a film where a man builds a life-sized replica of New York City inside a warehouse, casts actors to play himself and everyone he knows, and still have it feel like an autobiographical whisper. *Synecdoche, New York* stars the late, great Philip Seymour Hoffman as Caden Cotard, a theater director whose personal and artistic ambitions blur until reality caves in on itself. It’s heartbreaking, brain-breaking, and existentially dense—like *Inception*, if *Inception* cried itself to sleep. If you understood the film’s layered metaphor about mortality, identity, and artistic paralysis, you’re not just clever—you’ve probably stared into the abyss and offered it stage directions. | © Sony Pictures Classics

Cropped caché 2005 — Caché (2005)

Michael Haneke doesn’t do jump scares—he does soul scares. In *Caché*, a seemingly normal couple, played by Daniel Auteuil and Juliette Binoche, find their lives unraveling when mysterious surveillance tapes start appearing at their door. The horror isn’t in what happens, but in what *doesn’t*—in the long, silent takes, in the guilt-soaked subtext, and in the colonial past creeping into the present. It’s a slow, cerebral unraveling, less about answers and more about what we try to hide (spoiler: it never stays hidden). If you caught all the political subtext *and* figured out who sent the tapes (or at least have a good theory), you're well on your way to psychological thriller Valhalla. | © Les Films du Losange

Cropped primer — Primer (2004)

*Primer* is the ultimate litmus test for movie logic warriors. Shane Carruth wrote, directed, starred in, and edited this ultra-low-budget time travel film, and it shows—in the best, nerdiest way possible. There’s no spoon-feeding here: just two guys in a garage building a box that bends time, and then watching reality fold in on itself like a physics thesis gone rogue. The dialogue is technical, the timelines are tangled, and the plot requires diagrams, Reddit, and maybe a whiteboard you keep near the couch. If you understood it on your first try—or better yet, enjoyed it—you’re either a genius or a very convincing time traveler yourself. | © THINKFilm

Cropped donnie darko 2001 — Donnie Darko (2001)

If you understood *Donnie Darko* the first time around, you're either a theoretical physicist or you had a very enlightening chat with a rabbit in your dreams. This cult classic stars a baby-faced Jake Gyllenhaal as a troubled teen who might be hallucinating—or maybe unraveling the secrets of time travel with the help of a giant, apocalyptic bunny named Frank. Add Drew Barrymore as a cool English teacher, Patrick Swayze as a disturbingly motivational speaker, and a soundtrack that somehow makes existential dread sound poetic, and you've got a film that messes with your mind in the best way possible. If you cracked its tangled logic and still found it emotionally resonant, you’re operating on a frequency most of us can’t quite reach. | © Pandora Cinema

Cropped mulholland drive 2001 — Mulholland Drive (2001)

David Lynch doesn't make movies—he makes dreams you can't wake up from. *Mulholland Drive* is the ultimate "wait, what?" film, where Naomi Watts plays an aspiring actress whose Hollywood fairy tale mutates into a noir nightmare full of identity swaps, jitterbug contests, and creepy blue boxes. There’s also a terrifying homeless man behind a diner, a mysterious cowboy, and a club where people lip-sync to Spanish opera. Making sense of it all is like trying to solve a puzzle while blindfolded—and underwater. But if you pieced together Lynch’s dream logic and still had time to appreciate the haunting beauty of it all, then congrats: you're basically fluent in cinematic surrealism. | © Universal Pictures

Cropped the mirror 1975 — The Mirror (1975)

If you watched *The Mirror* without checking how much time was left, you deserve an honorary doctorate in poetic cinema. Andrei Tarkovsky’s masterpiece isn’t just a movie—it’s a meditative trance about memory, childhood, war, and identity, told through stunning imagery and nonlinear fragments that feel like they're pulled directly from the subconscious. There’s no conventional plot, and barely any exposition—but there is Margarita Terekhova playing multiple roles, and enough visual metaphors to keep a literature professor busy for months. If you connected emotionally despite not always understanding what was happening, then you’re not just smart—you’re spiritually tuned in. | © Mosfilm

Cropped the holy mountain 1973 — The Holy Mountain (1973)

Watching *The Holy Mountain* is like having your brain turned inside out by a psychedelic guru wearing gold lamé. Directed by (and starring) Alejandro Jodorowsky, this film makes no attempt to play by the rules of narrative cinema. It’s a spiritual, satirical, and sensory overload full of surreal imagery, alchemical rituals, and a whole parade of planetary stand-ins for capitalist corruption. There’s a scene with frogs reenacting a conquest. There’s a man with a crucified chimpanzee. There’s also a literal climb to enlightenment. If you walked away with even a vague sense of what it was trying to say, you might be a prophet—or at least someone who can decode symbolism on command. | © ABKCO Films

Cropped 2001 A Space Odyssey 1968 — 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968)

Ah, *2001: A Space Odyssey*—the movie that launched a thousand philosophy dissertations and at least as many confused moviegoers. Stanley Kubrick’s sci-fi epic isn’t just about space travel; it’s about evolution, artificial intelligence, and mankind’s cosmic insignificance. With Keir Dullea floating through the void, and HAL 9000 giving the coldest “I’m sorry, Dave” in film history, this slow-burning masterpiece builds tension with silence, symmetry, and some of the most hypnotic visuals ever put on screen. And then, of course, there’s the ending—a star baby, a glowing room, and time folding like a Möbius strip. If you got it, or even if you didn’t but claimed you did confidently at a party, you’re clearly ahead of the curve. | © Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer

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Do you ever finish a movie and think, “Wait, what just happened?” Some films are designed to challenge your perception, test your memory, and leave your brain spinning long after the credits roll. But if you managed to fully grasp the plot, themes, and hidden meanings behind these 20 mind-bending movies, you might be smarter than you give yourself credit for.

In this list, we’ve rounded up 20 complex, layered, and thought-provoking films that go beyond surface-level storytelling. These are the kinds of movies that reward attentive viewers and analytical thinkers—movies that demand more than just popcorn and passive watching.

Whether you're a film buff or just curious about where your cognitive skills stack up, this list will make you see your movie-watching abilities in a new light.

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Whether you're a film buff or just curious about where your cognitive skills stack up, this list will make you see your movie-watching abilities in a new light.