Top 48 Films & TV Series

There are only a handful of films that genuinely changed what cinema thought it was allowed to do. Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) is at the top of that list. The Star Child. HAL 9000's unblinking red eye. The bone spinning into orbit as the orchestral swell of Also Sprach Zarathustra kicks in. Kubrick took Arthur C. Clarke's novella and made something that wasn't quite science fiction, wasn't quite philosophy, wasn't quite art cinema — and was completely, permanently all three. Every frame was storyboarded three times. The production lasted four years. This is the poster for the person on your wall who takes cinema seriously.

American History X (1998) is the film that everyone who saw it in their teens or twenties remembers as the one that genuinely shook them. Edward Norton's Derek Vinyard — the transformation from neo-Nazi skinhead to something fractured and human — is one of the great screen performances of the 1990s. Tony Kaye's direction flips between a monochrome past and a colour present with a rhythm that makes the violence feel inevitable and the reckoning feel earned. The kerb scene. The basketball game. The shower. This is not a comfortable film. It is a necessary one, and the poster looks it.

Anatomy of a Murder (1959) has two things going for it that most films in history don't: one of the greatest courtroom procedurals ever written, and a Saul Bass poster that is arguably the most influential piece of film graphic design ever created. The disassembled figure. The pure geometry. James Stewart as defence attorney Paul Biegler dismantling the prosecution argument piece by piece. Otto Preminger made a film that was controversial in 1959 (it used the word "rape" and "contraceptive" openly in an era where the Hays Code was still in force) and looks completely contemporary in 2026. This is a wall print for the person who understands that classic Hollywood was never as innocent as the nostalgia suggests.

Annihilation (2018) is the science fiction film that understood the genre's greatest untapped territory: not space, but the self. Alex Garland's adaptation of Jeff VanderMeer's Southern Reach trilogy sent Natalie Portman into Area X — a zone of accelerating biological mutation — and used it as a meditation on grief, self-destruction, and the specific terror of not knowing why you do what you do. It is genuinely frightening. It is genuinely beautiful. The lighthouse sequence. The bear. The final chamber. Annihilation arrived with almost no marketing and became one of the most discussed films of the decade entirely by word of mouth.

Avatar (2009) is the highest-grossing film of all time — twice, since its 2022 re-release pushed it back ahead of Avengers: Endgame. James Cameron spent 12 years developing the technology to make it. The Na'vi of Pandora, the floating Hallelujah Mountains, the bioluminescent forest — none of it existed as a filming technique before Cameron built it. Whatever your opinion of the script, the worldbuilding is unmatched in the history of blockbuster cinema, and the film launched a franchise that is still expanding. This is the poster for the person who remembers seeing it in 3D for the first time and not being quite prepared for what they were about to see.

Avatar: The Last Airbender (2005–2008) is the animated series that adults feel comfortable calling one of the greatest television shows ever made — in any genre, live action or otherwise. Aang, Katara, Sokka, Zuko. The four nations. The Fire Lord's war that spans three seasons and arrives at a finale that earns every tear. The show introduced serious themes — genocide, occupation, moral complexity — to a children's audience without condescension, and built a world rich enough that people are still debating it twenty years later. The Netflix live-action adaptation brought it to a new audience in 2024. This is the poster for the people who watched the original and will never accept a substitute.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer (1997–2003) invented the modern TV season arc. Joss Whedon took a girl who was supposed to be the horror film victim — the blonde who runs into the alley and dies — and made her the hero, the slayer, the one who saves everyone else. Seven seasons of Sunnydale, the Hellmouth, the Scooby Gang. The musical episode. The silent episode. Buffy Summers as a feminist icon before anyone was calling it that. The show is 28 years old and still generates undergraduate dissertations, critical retrospectives, and the fierce loyalty of people who grew up watching it. This is the poster for them.

Capernaum (كفرناحوم, 2018) is one of the most powerful films of the last decade — a Lebanese drama directed by Nadine Labaki in which a 12-year-old boy sues his parents for bringing him into the world. The film was shot with non-professional actors, many of whom had real-life stories that mirrored the script. It won the Jury Prize at Cannes, was nominated for the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film, and spent months on streaming platforms being watched and rewatched by people who needed to let themselves feel something difficult. Capernaum is the poster for anyone who believes that world cinema is where the most serious filmmaking currently lives.

Carrie (1976) was Stephen King's first published novel and Brian De Palma's first mainstream hit. Sissy Spacek as Carrie White — the telekinetic teenager, the bullied outcast, the prom queen drenched in blood — gave one of the most physically committed performances of the 1970s and received an Academy Award nomination for it. De Palma's use of split screen during the prom climax was technically innovative for its era and visually indelible. The film established the template for decades of supernatural horror: the outsider, the humiliation, the unleashing. This is the poster that belongs in every horror film lover's collection.

Charmed (1998–2006) gave an entire generation of teenagers a very specific idea of what witchcraft looked like: the Halliwell manor in San Francisco, the Book of Shadows, Prue, Piper and Phoebe navigating demons and relationships and careers simultaneously. The show ran for eight seasons — one of the longest supernatural dramas in US television history — and built its audience through a combination of sisterhood, magic system building and a willingness to deal with grief (the season three opener, following Shannen Doherty's departure, remains one of the most emotionally raw episodes of its era). The original series is back on streaming and a new generation is discovering it.

Chicken Run (2000) is the highest-grossing stop-motion animated film ever made, and also — genuinely — one of the great British films of the 21st century. Nick Park and Peter Lord's Aardman production took a World War II prisoner-of-war escape narrative (The Great Escape with chickens) and made it funny, warm, precisely timed, and quietly British in a way that big-budget Hollywood animation never quite manages. Ginger. Rocky. Mrs Tweedy's pie machine. The flying contraption. A sequel arrived in 2023 (also excellent). This is the poster for everyone who grew up watching it with their family and has never been able to hear the theme without smiling.

Dazed and Confused (1993) is the film that made Richard Linklater. Set on the last day of school in 1976 Texas, it's a two-hour hang-out movie in the best sense — nothing happens and everything happens. Matthew McConaughey's Wooderson delivered the line that has become one of the most quoted in American cinema: "Alright, alright, alright." Ben Affleck. Milla Jovovich. Parker Posey. The cast alone is a testament to the casting director's eye for talent in an era before any of them were famous. This is the poster for people who love cinema that trusts the audience to sit still for teenagers being teenagers without needing a plot.

Death in Venice (Morte a Venezia, 1971) is one of the most beautiful films ever committed to celluloid. Luchino Visconti adapted Thomas Mann's novella into a meditation on beauty, obsession, ageing, and the vanity of artistic ambition. Dirk Bogarde as composer Aschenbach — watching the boy Tadzio on the Venetian Lido, consuming himself with an infatuation he cannot voice and will not escape — gives one of cinema's great performances of internal suffering. The Mahler adagietto on the soundtrack. The cholera. The final image. Visconti's direction is measured to the point of ceremony. This is the poster for the cinephile who believes that film's highest function is the same as classical music's.

Everything Everywhere All at Once (2022) is the film that broke the Oscars — in the best way. The Daniels (Daniel Kwan and Daniel Scheinert) made a multiverse film about a Chinese-American laundromat owner that somehow managed to be the most formally inventive, emotionally overwhelming and genuinely funny film of its year. Michelle Yeoh. Ke Huy Quan. Jamie Lee Curtis in a role no one saw coming. Seven Academy Awards including Best Picture, Best Director, Best Actress, Best Supporting Actor and Best Supporting Actress. Googly eyes. Hot dogs for fingers. Bagels as a metaphor for nihilism. This is the film that everything in 2022 was about, and the poster looks like nothing else on any wall.

Eyes Wide Shut (1999) was Stanley Kubrick's final film — he died six days after completing the edit. Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman (then married in real life) play a New York couple whose marriage fractures over a single act of confession that sends the husband into an increasingly dreamlike New York underworld. The masked orgy sequence. The Christmas lights that never go off. The way every interior looks like a stage set. Kubrick made a film about desire, jealousy, and class in the most opulent visual terms possible, then died before he could see how it was received. It has been reappraised significantly in the 25 years since. This is the poster for people who watched it twice before they understood it.

Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas (1998) is one of those films that was always going to be impossible to adapt — Hunter S. Thompson's subjective, hallucinatory memoir of a road trip to Las Vegas with his attorney — and Terry Gilliam made it feel genuinely impossible to watch while being completely impossible to stop watching. Johnny Depp (channelling Thompson himself) and Benicio del Toro dissolving into the American Dream through every substance known to humanity. The bats. The Circus-Circus. "We were somewhere around Barstow on the edge of the desert when the drugs began to take hold." This is the poster for people who have read the book, love the book, and found that Gilliam somehow captured the book anyway.

Forbidden Planet (1956) is the film that single-handedly defined what science fiction cinema looked like for the next two decades. Robby the Robot, the first fully realised robot character in film history. The invisible Id monster. The entire electronic score (the first completely electronic film soundtrack ever used). The film is loosely based on Shakespeare's The Tempest — which makes it the most distinguished precursor to every space opera that came after it. Without Forbidden Planet, there is arguably no Star Trek and no Star Wars as we know them. This is the poster for the person who knows where cinema came from.

Gavin and Stacey (2007–2010, 2019, 2024) is the defining British sitcom of the 21st century. James Corden and Ruth Jones wrote it, and in doing so created four of the great comic characters in recent British television: Smithy, Nessa, Dave and Doris. Essex meets Barry Island. The relationship that shouldn't work on paper and works completely in practice. "What's occurring?" The Christmas special that pulled 18 million UK viewers. Corden and Jones wrote another special in 2024 to finally answer the question — what DID happen on that fishing trip? Gavin and Stacey is warm, funny, sad, and specifically, defiantly, unmistakably British.

Heated Rivalry (2025) arrives as one of the most talked-about new releases of the year — a film built around competition, obsession, and the specific combustion that happens when two people who should be on the same side refuse to be. The 98types print captures the film's aesthetic in museum-grade 260gsm archival matte quality, in sizes from A6 to A3. From £3, buy 3 get 1 free, same-day dispatch from Camden Market.

Her (2013) is the most prescient film of the decade it was made in. Spike Jonze's quietly devastating science fiction sees Joaquin Phoenix's Theodore Twombly fall in love with his operating system — voiced by Scarlett Johansson — in a near-future Los Angeles that looks almost exactly like 2024. The film won the Academy Award for Best Original Screenplay and was nominated for Best Picture. It predicted AI companionship, digital intimacy, and the loneliness of a hyperconnected world with a precision that becomes more uncomfortable to watch with each passing year. This is the poster for the person who watched it in 2013 and felt slightly accused by it, and has never fully stopped thinking about it.

House M.D. (2004–2012) made Hugh Laurie — best known in the UK as Bertie Wooster and George from Blackadder — into one of American television's most iconic characters. Dr Gregory House, the misanthropic diagnostic genius who applies Sherlock Holmes logic to medical mysteries while self-medicating with Vicodin and disdaining everyone who tries to help him. Eight seasons, 177 episodes, six Primetime Emmy nominations, and a performance that has been dissected in medical schools and philosophy seminars alike. "Everybody lies." The cane. The limp. The whiteboard differential. House MD is the poster for the TV fan who has strong opinions about which season is the best (it's season two).

La Grazia (2025) is the latest film from Paolo Sorrentino, the Italian director who won the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film with La Grande Bellezza (The Great Beauty) in 2014 and the Golden Lion at Venice for È stata la mano di Dio (The Hand of God) in 2021. Sorrentino's cinema is unmistakable: baroque visual compositions, the collision of beauty and decay, the specifically Neapolitan understanding of life's theatricality. La Grazia arrives in 2025 as one of the most anticipated films from European art cinema and the 98types print captures its visual identity in museum-grade 260gsm quality.

Life Is Beautiful (La vita è bella, 1997) won three Academy Awards including Best Actor for Roberto Benigni — who leapt across rows of seats to accept it, in one of the most joyful Oscar moments ever captured — and Best Foreign Language Film. Benigni also directed and co-wrote the film. The story of a Jewish Italian man who uses humour and imagination to protect his young son during their imprisonment in a Nazi concentration camp is one that demands full emotional surrender. The first half is a bittersweet romantic comedy. The second half is one of the most devastating pieces of filmmaking in Italian cinema history. The poster knows which of those halves it remembers.

Lord of War (2005) opens with one of cinema's great sequences: a bullet's-eye view from its manufacture in a factory, through transit, shipping, and conflict, to its final destination in the skull of a child soldier in West Africa. Andrew Niccol's film about arms dealer Yuri Orlov (Nicolas Cage at his most precisely calibrated) is simultaneously a thriller, a black comedy, and a geopolitical document about who keeps conflicts going and why. Cage delivers a monologue about what makes him useful to the world that deserves to be in every documentary about the global arms trade. This is the poster for the person who watches films to understand the world slightly better.

Lost (2004–2010) is the television event that proved a network drama could sustain genuine mystery and genuine emotional investment simultaneously, at scale, across six seasons. The plane crash on the island. The hatch. The Others. The numbers: 4, 8, 15, 16, 23, 42. Matthew Fox, Evangeline Lilly, Terry O'Quinn as John Locke — the greatest character in the series and one of the most compelling in television history. The flash-forwards. The flash-sideways. The finale that divided its audience cleanly in two and still generates arguments. Lost is the show that made appointment television out of collective confusion. This is the poster for the people who stayed on the island.

Léon: The Professional (1994) introduced Natalie Portman to cinema at age twelve — her debut performance as Mathilda, the girl who persuades a professional hitman to take her in after her family's murder, is still one of the most assured and unsettling child performances in film history. Jean Reno as Léon is simultaneously frightening and tender; Gary Oldman as Stansfield is one of the great screen villains; and Luc Besson's direction is kinetic and operatic in the way that only French-made American genre films of the 1990s managed. "Léon… is life always this hard, or is it just when you're a kid?" This is the poster that earns its place on any serious cinema wall.

Manhattan (1979) is one of the most cinematically beautiful films ever made about a city. Woody Allen and Gordon Willis shot New York entirely in black and white, in Panavision, with a Gershwin score — and created something that functions as a love letter to a city at least as much as it functions as a romantic comedy. The opening montage. The bench by the Queensboro Bridge at 5am. Mariel Hemingway as Tracy. Diane Keaton as Mary. The film is morally complicated in ways that become more, not less, interesting with time. Gordon Willis's cinematography was overlooked for an Oscar nomination at the time. It has since been recognised as some of the greatest work in the history of American cinema.

Mr. Robot (2015–2019) is the show that the tech industry watched nervously because it got hacking completely right. Sam Esmail's drama about Elliot Alderson — a cyber-security engineer and vigilante hacker with social anxiety disorder and a dissociative identity he's not fully aware of — was technically verified by actual security professionals and won Rami Malek the Primetime Emmy for Outstanding Lead Actor in a Drama. The show's unreliable narrator structure, its engagement with contemporary surveillance capitalism, and its debt to Fight Club and American Psycho make it one of the genuinely intelligent thrillers of its decade. The twist in season two is still being discussed.

One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (1975) is one of only three films to win all five major Academy Awards (Best Picture, Director, Screenplay, Actor and Actress). Miloš Forman's adaptation of Ken Kesey's novel — Jack Nicholson as Randle McMurphy rampaging through the rigid authority structure of a psychiatric institution — is simultaneously a comedy, a tragedy, a political allegory, and one of the great actor's showcases in film history. Louise Fletcher as Nurse Ratched has been named the fifth greatest film villain in cinema history by the American Film Institute. Chief's escape. The lobotomy. The pillow. This is a film that does not let you off the hook.

Ozark (2017–2022) is Netflix's most decorated drama series — 44 Emmy nominations, 11 wins, 4 seasons. Jason Bateman both stars as Marty Byrde and directs the majority of the series, establishing a cold, blue-grey visual aesthetic that became inseparable from the show's moral tone. Bateman and Laura Linney as Wendy are the most watchable dysfunctional couple since Tony and Carmela Soprano. Ruth Langmore (Julia Garner, twice Emmy-winning) is the breakout character that the show slowly revealed was its actual protagonist. Missouri. The Ozarks. The cartel. The relentless forward motion of a family with no good options and increasing competence at bad ones.

Pink Flamingos (1972) is one of the most deliberately transgressive films ever made and the film that made John Waters' reputation as the "Pope of Trash." Divine as Babs Johnson — "the filthiest person alive" — competing with rivals for that title in a plot too wilfully grotesque to summarise without warning labels. Waters shot the film in Baltimore for $12,000 and it became a midnight movie sensation that ran in some cinemas continuously for years. Pink Flamingos is camp cinema at its most extreme and gay culture's relationship to transgression at its most theatrical. The poster is for people who understand that the history of queer cinema is not only Moonlight and Call Me By Your Name.

Pretty Little Liars (2010–2017) ran for seven seasons on ABC Family, generating one of the most dedicated fandoms in US television history. Spencer, Hanna, Aria and Emily — four friends in the fictional Rosewood, Pennsylvania — are tormented by an anonymous figure known only as "A" who knows everything about them and uses it with increasing cruelty. The show was adapted from Sara Shepard's bestselling YA novel series and became a masterclass in dramatic tension through accumulated secrets. The fashion. The romances. The twists that generated millions of online theory threads. "A" was revealed, unmissed for a season, and then revealed to be someone else entirely. Pretty Little Liars is the poster for the person who lived through the weekly episode thread.

Sabrina the Teenage Witch (1996–2003) gave an entire generation their defining witch: Melissa Joan Hart as Sabrina Spellman, discovering her powers on her sixteenth birthday and navigating Westbridge, Massachusetts with the help of Aunts Hilda and Zelda and Salem the cat (a warlock turned into a cat as punishment). The show ran for seven seasons and followed Sabrina from high school through college and into adulthood. Salem's wisecracks. The talking mirror. Harvey. The Other Realm. The show's gentle magic system and its central character's warmth made it one of the most rewatched series of the late 1990s and early 2000s, and it has aged considerably better than most of its contemporaries.

Schitt's Creek (2015–2020) is the show that Netflix made famous globally after CBC broadcast it to relative obscurity in Canada for five seasons. Dan Levy and Eugene Levy created a comedy about the wealthy Rose family losing everything and being forced to live in the small town they bought as a joke — and over six seasons turned it into one of the warmest, most quietly radical sitcoms of the decade. The show's unapologetic inclusion of David Rose's pansexuality as a completely normalised element of the plot won it enormous goodwill and nine Primetime Emmy Awards in a single year (a record for a comedy series). "Ew, David." This is the poster for everyone who came for the jokes and stayed for the heart.

Se7en (1995) is the film that made David Fincher a director to take seriously after the disappointment of Alien 3. Brad Pitt and Morgan Freeman as Mills and Somerset, two detectives in a permanently rain-soaked unnamed city, tracking a killer who uses the seven deadly sins as a blueprint. The script, which Kyle Cooper turned into one of cinema's greatest title sequences, was considered unfilmable because of its final act. New Line Cinema attempted to change the ending. Fincher and Brad Pitt refused. The ending stayed. "What's in the box?" is one of cinema's great unanswered questions, except that it is answered, horribly, and the answer is as terrible as your worst imagining. This is the poster that belongs in serious film collections.

Sex Education (2019–2023) is one of Netflix's most genuinely original series — a British coming-of-age comedy drama set in a fictional Welsh comprehensive school that somehow looks like a 1980s American teen film. Asa Butterfield as Otis Milburn (son of sex therapist Jean, played by Gillian Anderson) inadvertently becomes the school's anonymous sex and relationship therapist. The show addressed LGBTQ+ issues, sex positivity, anxiety, abuse and identity with a sophistication that most films don't manage and that most teen dramas actively avoid. Emma Mackey as Maeve Wiley is the show's emotional centre. Four seasons. A finale that earned its tears. Sex Education is the most progressive teen drama British television has produced.

Snowpiercer (2013) is the film that introduced Western audiences to Bong Joon-ho six years before Parasite won the Palme d'Or and the Academy Award for Best Picture. A post-apocalyptic action film set entirely on a perpetually moving train — the last survivors of an ice age stratified by class, with Chris Evans leading a revolution from the tail section to the engine room — it is simultaneously a genre film and a Marxist allegory in which every compartment represents a rung of the social hierarchy. The protein block. The gate. The axe fight. The school car. Snowpiercer is the film that makes you think about class in the way that only science fiction can.

That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime (転生したらスライムだった件, 2018–) is one of the definitive isekai anime series of its era. Satoru Mikami, a 37-year-old salaryman, is killed and reincarnated in a fantasy world as a slime — only to discover he possesses the ability to absorb and mimic any living creature, making him progressively, improbably powerful. The series stands out in the crowded isekai genre for its warmth, its focus on community-building over combat, and its genuinely inventive power system. Rimuru Tempest's journey from slime to nation-builder is one of the more emotionally satisfying arcs in modern anime.

The Farewell (2019) is the kind of film that makes you want to call your grandmother. Lulu Wang's semi-autobiographical story of a Chinese-American family's decision to keep their dying grandmother's terminal diagnosis from her — returning to China for a "farewell" disguised as a wedding — is one of the most emotionally precise comedies of the decade. Awkwafina's performance as Billi won a Golden Globe and demonstrated that she was a dramatic actress at least as powerful as she was a comedic one. The film was distributed by A24 and became one of their most talked-about releases. This is the poster for the person who watches it and immediately thinks of someone they should call.

The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air (1990–1996) launched Will Smith from rapper to one of the biggest film stars in the world. Six seasons of Will Smith's fictionalised version of himself being sent from West Philadelphia to live with his wealthy aunt and uncle in Bel-Air. Carlton's dance. Geoffrey the butler. "Now this is a story all about how..." The theme song that an entire generation can recite word for word without warming up. The show also had a serious side — Will's absent father episode (season 4, "Papa's Got a Brand New Excuse") is still cited as one of the great dramatic performances in sitcom history, and it arrives in the middle of a comedy that wasn't necessarily asking for it.

The Green Mile (1999) is Frank Darabont's second Stephen King adaptation — following The Shawshank Redemption in 1994 — and like that film it is fundamentally about human goodness in the face of institutional cruelty. Tom Hanks as Paul Edgecomb, the death row corrections officer in Cold Mountain Penitentiary's E Block in the 1930s. Michael Clarke Duncan as John Coffey, a man convicted of a crime he almost certainly didn't commit, who has the ability to absorb and heal suffering. The film is three hours long. Nobody notices. The mouse. Mr Jingles. "I'm tired of people being ugly to each other." The Green Mile is the companion piece to Shawshank on any wall that takes Frank Darabont seriously as the finest King adaptor in cinema history.

The Lives of Others (Das Leben der Anderen, 2006) won the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film and has since been recognised as one of the finest European films of the 21st century. Set in East Germany in 1984, it follows a Stasi officer assigned to surveil a playwright and his actress partner — and finds himself gradually, against his training and his ideology, moved by what he hears. The film's final scene is one of cinema's great quiet acts of recognition. Director Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck was 33 when he made it. The surveillance state. The typewriter. The dedication. This is the poster for the person who takes seriously the relationship between freedom, art and political power.

The Princess Bride (1987) is the film that every person who grew up in the late 1980s or 1990s can quote verbatim from beginning to end. Rob Reiner's adaptation of William Goldman's novel (Goldman also wrote the screenplay) is a fairy tale, an adventure, a romance, a comedy, and a film about storytelling all simultaneously — and it is funny and warm and sad in exactly the right proportions. "As you wish." "Inconceivable." "My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die." Westley and Buttercup. Fezzik and Inigo. Vizzini. The Pit of Despair. The Cliffs of Insanity. The six-fingered man. This is the poster that a whole generation of people will want on their wall without needing to think about why.

The Rocketeer (1991) is the cult superhero film that a certain type of person loves more than almost any other — and has done for 35 years. Joe Johnston's adaptation of the Dave Stevens comic book set a Depression-era test pilot against Nazi spies in the gorgeous art deco aesthetic of 1930s Los Angeles. Bill Campbell, Jennifer Connelly, Timothy Dalton as Neville Sinclair. The jetpack. The helmet. The villain who quotes Errol Flynn because he is Errol Flynn. The Rocketeer underperformed at the box office in 1991 and was beloved on home video from the moment it arrived. Disney has been developing a sequel or remake every few years since. This is the poster for the people who've been waiting.

The Shawshank Redemption (1994) has been ranked #1 on IMDb's Top 250 films more or less continuously for over two decades. Frank Darabont adapted Stephen King's novella into a film about hope, friendship and patience that was a box office disappointment on release and then became, via home video and television, one of the most widely watched films in cinema history. Tim Robbins as Andy Dufresne. Morgan Freeman as Red. The rock hammer. The poster of Rita Hayworth. The sewer pipe. "Get busy living, or get busy dying." There is almost no one who has seen this film and not been moved by it. The poster belongs on any wall serious about cinema.

The Usual Suspects (1995) has one of the most famous plot twists in cinema history — a twist that works completely, that plays fair with the audience, and that makes you want to rewatch the film immediately to catch everything you missed. Kevin Spacey won the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor as Verbal Kint. Christopher McQuarrie won for Best Original Screenplay. "The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist." Keyser Söze. The lineup. The coffee mug. The bulletin board. The Usual Suspects is the film that makes every film that came after it about unreliable narrators feel slightly less clever.

To Kill a Mockingbird (1962) is the film adaptation of Harper Lee's Pulitzer Prize-winning novel, and Gregory Peck's performance as Atticus Finch is one of the most quietly definitive in American cinema. The American Film Institute named Atticus Finch the greatest film hero of the 20th century. The film won three Academy Awards including Best Actor for Peck. The racial injustice of the American South. Scout and Jem Finch. Boo Radley's gifts in the tree. The courtroom. The verdict. To Kill a Mockingbird is 63 years old and the film's central arguments about race, justice and institutional failure have not dated. If anything they've sharpened.

Vikings (2013–2020) ran for six seasons on the History Channel and became one of the channel's most-watched scripted series globally. Travis Fimmel as Ragnar Lothbrok — the farmer who became the most feared Norse raider of his era — was the show's defining presence for four seasons, and his relationship with his sons (Bjorn, Ivar the Boneless, Sigurd) drove the series into an increasingly epic second half. The raids on England. The settlement in Northumbria. Rollo in Paris. Ivar's genius and cruelty. A prequel series, Vikings: Valhalla, arrived on Netflix in 2022 and extended the world into the 11th century. This is the poster for the person who knows who Ragnar is and doesn't need it explained.