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The Ars Technica science fiction bucket list—42 movies every geek must see... and nine bonus stinkers from which you should run away screaming.

Here at Ars, we're always making lists (just like Liam Neeson). Lists of science fiction movies are a common item for discussion on the Ars staff Slack channel—particularly short lists of the best science fiction movies ever made. But "best" is an impossible word to quantify in any broadly applicable way—one person's "best ever" might be another person's worst, especially in a genre of movies as rich and varied as science fiction.

A Side Note About Sci-Fi

"Science fiction" is a meta term that refers to a huge host of sub-genres, from "hard" science fiction to skiffy to all points between. For this list, we've chosen to constrain eligibility requirements to movies that deal speculatively with science and/or the future. This lets us include classics like Frankenstein (which is properly sci-fi) while excluding films that skew heavily toward fantasy. Then again, we've got Star Wars in the list and that's not a future movie, so author's discretion trumps all, I suppose!

While the Ars staff has some bitter disagreements on which movies are better than others, it's undeniable that some science fiction movies are mandatory viewing for the modern geek. To that end, rather than try to pull together another tired "top ten sci-fi movies" listicle, we've instead polled the Ars staff to try to come up with a definitive "science fiction bucket list"—that is, a list of sci-fi movies that you should absolutely see at least once before you die. They aren't necessarily the "best" movies by any specific set of criteria, but every film on this list is outstanding in some particular way. Some are groundbreaking in their stories or subject matter, some are controversial, and some contain a character or plot twist that became an archetype, referenced in and reused by countless other films. Some films on the list, like Fritz Lang's Metropolis, are pure cinematic poetry; others, like Pacific Rim, are pure popcorn fun. And, as a bonus, we even included a bonus list of a few absolutely terrible stinkers at the very bottom.

Strap in, dear reader, and pick through the Ars Technica sci-fi bucket list. Each staffer contributed a movie or two to the list, so we've captured a pretty broad range of must-see films. We're sure many folks are going to disagree over our choices—this is the Internet, after all, and arguments on the Internet about science fiction have been going on since the 1970s!—so you're welcome to tell us all of the movies we should have included but didn't down in the comments.

TOC

The best of the best

The worst of the worst

2001: A Space Odyssey (1968)

It's difficult to figure out anything to say about 2001 that hasn't been said before. It's an iconic work by one of the greatest filmmakers, and that alone makes it worth seeing. But there's so much going on that it's also worth watching again if you haven't in a while, in part because the context changes. Pan Am-branded service to a space station at the dawn of this century didn't seem dated or outrageously far-fetched the first time I saw it; it does now. The possibility of some sort of genetic intervention in humanity's past can be thought of as more or less plausible thanks to everything from the Neanderthal genome to the reboot of Battlestar Galactica. Killer AI feels a bit different as we usher in our first autonomous vehicles. It's a movie that doesn't get too stale because many of the themes it tackles remain central to our experience.

28 Days Later (2003)

A man awakens in the hospital only to discover that most of the world has been overrun by flesh-eating maniacs infected with a zombie virus. With its tense action and all-too-realistic portrayal of how the military might respond to pandemic meltdown, 28 Days Later became an instant horror sci-fi classic. It also helped to restart the zombie genre with its “fast zombie” monsters and focus on urban survivalism.

Alien (1979)

It's the anti-Star Wars: seven space truckers aboard a dirty industrial spaceship investigate an alien distress beacon—only it's not a distress beacon. A masterful movie by a master storyteller, Alien is the original haunted-house-in-space movie. It has also aged beautifully, even though it's steeped in the dark and dirty cinematography and corporate distrust of the late 1970s, and almost 40 years after release it still has the power to make audiences scream. Plus, it's got one of the most iconic horror scenes in all of cinema. Trust us, you'll know it when you see it.

Blade Runner (1982)

A hard-boiled detective gets roped into one last job, rousted from retirement to catch a dangerous gang of outlaws. You’ve heard this one before, right? Not like this. In Blade Runner, Harrison Ford crashes through noodle stands, genetic design shops, and bizarre parties as he hunts for android “replicants” in the rainy, crowded Los Angeles of 2019. Even 34 years after Blade Runner’s cinema debut, it’s still a captivating vision of a dark future that journeys from action to philosophy. Rutger Hauer’s final “tears in rain” scene is as iconic a scene as exists in the sci-fi genre.

Brazil (1985)

In this dystopian cult film by Monty Python's Terry Gilliam, an unassuming bureaucrat mopes through a future world of terrorism, authoritarian leaders, and seriously creepy plastic surgery. His only outlet is his recurring fantasy that he’s a winged hero escaping his miserable job with the woman of his dreams. But when he gets mixed up with a subversive plumber and a group of mysterious rebels, his quiet life begins to unravel. Brazil is quite simply one of the most moving, memorable satires of techno-authoritarianism in the twentieth century. Gilliam’s crazy retro-futurist aesthetic in this film also gave us one of the first steampunk-looking futures, long before "steampunk" was a thing the kids were talking about.

The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the 8th Dimension (1984)

These days, most science fiction movies devote their first few scenes to world-building or providing their characters with backgrounds and plausible reasons for getting together. Buckaroo Banzai's approach is epitomized by what's now known as the watermelon scene—and no, we're never told what the watermelon is for. While there is apparently a vast world built around the title character (including material for a never-made sequel), we're not given any of it; instead, we're dumped right into the midst of things as Buckaroo drives a military test vehicle through a mountain and into an alternate dimension. From there on out, we have to piece Banzai-world together ourselves. The result is a chaotic, demented, and absolutely glorious trip through a save-the-world-from-itself plot. If that doesn't hook you, see it for John Lithgow's performance, as he chews enough scenery to have denuded every sound stage in California.

Children of Men (2006)

This one is all about women—who, in a near-future dystopia, can no longer conceive. Until, suddenly, one of them can. Based on a story by PD James, this Alfonso Cuaròn film mashes up contemporary fears about immigration, terrorism, and failed states with the larger worry that humanity itself might be on the brink of extinction. The film isn't just about ideas, though; Children of Men features a (literal) race for salvation so powerful that the late Roger Ebert wrote of one scene, "Not all of the chases in all of the Bournes equal this one, shot in a single take by one camera, for impact."

A Clockwork Orange (1972)

Neo-fascists in the not-too-distant future subject a violent sociopath to brain-altering experiments in the hope of "rehabilitating" him. It doesn't go well. Diamond-cutter editing and Stanley Kubrick's perfectly-composed scenes of atrocity make A Clockwork Orange one of the great cinematic Rorschach tests. Is the movie a gleeful paean to utter, hopeless misanthropy, or an optimistic ode to how balancing the individual and society is a never-ending work in progress? I was cured, alright.

Computer Chess (2013)

A faux-documentary about a chess tournament—sort of. Shot mainly on grainy videotape in order to mimic the look and feel of an early 1980s home movie, Computer Chess starts off mundanely enough and then quickly spirals into relentless insanity and non sequitur. The military gets involved with the tournament. A group of characters possibly gets trapped in a time loop (on color film, no less). And one of the player/programmers possibly makes an artificial intelligence breakthrough—just before the world comes to an end. Maybe. Computer Chess is definitely unconventional, but it's a rewarding movie that both lampoons and idolizes the bearded computer hacker culture of 1980—a time when the future seemed right around the corner.

CSA: The Confederate States of America (2004)

Another faux-documentary, CSA is set in a world where the south won the Civil War. The movie grabs you right at the beginning with a commercial for a fictional insurance company. "For over 100 years," it says, camera panning across a beautiful family, "protecting people and their property." And at "property," the pan stops on a black man, trimming the family's hedges. Though the ending perhaps fails to deliver on the power of the premise, CSA's alternate history take is well-executed and at times riveting. Definitely worth a watch at least once.

The Day the Earth Stood Still (1951)

The definitive "well-meaning aliens come to Earth and we treat them like crap" movie (although Plan 9 from Outer Space is pretty memorable, too). Friendly humanoid alien Klaatu tries to warn us about nuclear weapons in this Cold War allegory, so naturally we throw tanks at him. I dunno, Klaatu, maybe you should have radioed ahead first before landing your spaceship in the middle of town. The direction and score may be a little stiff for modern audiences, but The Day the Earth Stood Still is one of those ideas that's so copied, so seminal, and so parodied that it feels more like it was discovered than created. Director Robert Wise's humungous career included everything from editing Citizen Kane all the way to directing Star Trek: The Motion Picture, with two Oscars in between.

District 9 (2009)

When an enormous UFO stalls out over Johannesburg, South Africa, the local authorities have to deal with thousands of alien refugees in dire need of food, health care, and shelter. Wikus is a government worker leading an effort to relocate the aliens (whom he disparagingly calls “prawns”) to a distant camp, but the situation quickly spirals out of control. It turns out the government wants to use the aliens’ military tech and is willing to sacrifice humans to do it. An intense indie flick that combined incredible battle effects with smart political subtext, District 9's take on an alien invasion tale is rivetingly told.

Dune (1984)

Saying that David Lynch’s 1984 adaptation of Frank Herbert’s 1965 novel Dune is a seminal piece of science fiction film is a little misleading—we'd suggest that you read the book and watch the movie after. Lynch’s adaptation lacks a lot of the narrative tension that the novel has, and it definitely sags in places, leaving someone unfamiliar with the Dune-verse confused and bored. But if you’ve read the book and know what’s going on, this movie is such a science fiction gem. The sandworms are awesome for 1984, Patrick Stewart and Sting are recognizable faces for a younger generation just now coming to the movie, and Lynch's visuals transcend the clunky story—even if it doesn't entirely make sense, it definitely looks beautiful. Plus, all the music is by Toto, so the film even sounds like a cool adventure from your memory.

Enemy Mine (1985)

Based on a novella by Barry B Longyear, Enemy Mine tells the story of two bitter enemies marooned on a hostile world. The plot is a little schmaltzy, as is the ending, but the all-in performance by Louis Gossett Jr as the alien Jeriba—especially in scenes like the one where he and Dennis Quaid's Davitch realize that concepts like selflessness and compassion are universal and truth is truth—elevates the movie from forgettable to absolutely exceptional.

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004)

A new form of technology promises to erase unwanted memories from your mind, and so our protagonist (played with frenetic melancholy by Jim Carey) decides to delete all recollections of his terrible breakup. Too late, he discovers that means he has to lose every good memory of his ex-girlfriend, too. In this surreal romp through tech-altered minds of the future, weirdo sci-fi writer Charlie Kaufman reveals that bad memories are not always what they seem.

Forbidden Planet (1956)

Featuring the first fully developed robotic character in a supporting role, MGM's Forbidden Planet was a forerunner for much of what was to come in science fiction cinema. Beyond the star turn by Robby the Robot, Forbidden Planet pioneered plot points that would later become standard Star Trek material—faster-than-light starships, remote research stations on alien worlds, mysterious and dangerous technology from an ancient race, and Leslie Nielsen in a role that foreshadowed every Captain Kirk romantic entanglement. And Robby the Robot demonstrates on film for the first time how a simple rule (“Don’t harm humans”) can throw a spanner into the artificial intelligence works.

Frankenstein (1931)

Monster movies don’t get any more classic than legendary horror director James Whale’s 1931 tale of a mad scientist who creates life out of dead bodies and lightning. Frankenstein’s monster, played memorably by Boris Karloff, just wants to be human. But his horrific appearance and mysterious powers condemn him to a life on the fringes of society. Images and memes from this movie are rampant in our culture, but you have to forget what you know and try to watch this one with fresh eyes. It’s the movie that put monsters on the map and popularized the figure of the mad scientist who “plays God” and loses—badly.

Galaxy Quest (1999)

I’d never call Galaxy Quest a great movie, but as a send-up of sci-fi in general and Star Trek in particular it successfully turns its lens of self-examination on a number of pop-culture pillars. Everyone who's ever attended a sci-fi con and waited in line for an aging actor's signature is a potential subject for meta-mockery, but even though the movie could have taken things in a far more cynical direction, we ultimately find out that it's okay for us geeks to be our geeky selves. Tim Allen makes a solid Shatner analogue, and it’s nice to see Sigourney Weaver having fun in a sci-fi film, but the true joy of Galaxy Quest is found in the late, great Alan Rickman’s exasperated deadpan as his character pushes his actor's soul to the limit and beyond. After all, the show must go on.

Ghost in the Shell (1995)

In one of the most gorgeous, intricate cyberpunk futures ever created, this anime movie explores one story in a franchise about a world where people upload their minds and become “ghosts” who animate cyborg “shells.” A detective is tracking the Puppet Master, a bad guy who has been ghost-hacking people, leaving their minds shattered. But it turns out the Puppet Master is not like other ghosts—and his hacks may lead to a new kind of artificial life. This movie raises complex philosophical questions about consciousness and has become a touchstone for anyone who wants to know what humanity will be like after uploading becomes the norm.

Ghosts with Shit Jobs (2012)

This Canadian indie is one of the most prescient (and funniest) explorations of what will happen to working class jobs in a near future of robots, virtual worlds, and economic collapse. It’s a fake documentary that follows four characters as they do things like work as human spam bots (they’re paid every time they mention products in casual conversation) and data janitors who erase logos from user-generated images of the real world. Critically acclaimed on the film festival circuit, Ghosts with Shit Jobs is now available for free online.

Godzilla (1954)

The original Japanese movie about a giant, radioactive prehistoric beast is grim and horrifying. This is no fun-time kaiju wrestling romp like Pacific Rim. Instead, Godzilla allegorizes the events of World War II firebombings and atomic blasts by imagining a beast who embodies the most violent human impulses. Watch the original cut, with subtitles, and you’ll find out why this iconic film spawned an entire industry.

Her (2013)

For all of the technology and scientific advancements that so many sci-fi films have guessed and satirized, the concept of a relatable AI pocket companion “operating system” went unmined for a remarkably long time—or, at least, an OS more omnipresent than Hal. Enter Samantha, the sweetly voiced, always-on AI who steals the film Her by pantomiming everything that technology critics hate about our emotional reliance on net-connected devices. It’s hard to unequivocally endorse services like Amazon Alexa or Google Now after watching Joaquin Phoenix masturbate while talking to a computer, and that’s the kind of jarring, literal/figurative moment in a film that makes good sci-fi transcend into “important” territory. The film gets props for letting its human and computer relationships simply stand in stark contrast with each other, as opposed to banging us over the head about their sharp divide. (Plus, its 2013 vision of “augmented reality” gaming is pretty spot-on.)

Mad Max: Fury Road (2015)

Who thought that we’d get a powerful, mind-blowing action-drama out of the fourth movie in an apocalyptic action series that last left us with Mel Gibson facing off against Tina Turner? Somehow, it happened—the fourth Mad Max movie is something truly special. In a world that has hit peak oil and collapsed under climate change, our hero Furiosa (Charlize Theron) drives a fuel truck for Immortan Joe, a car cult leader whose followers worship all that is “shiny and chrome.” When Furiosa rebels, rescuing Immortan Joe’s breeder slave girls, we follow her and reluctant good guy Mad Max across the desert in search of sanctuary with a feminist biker gang. The chase scenes shot on big rigs and blade-studded cars in the vast Australian desert are so dramatic and gorgeous that they transcend what we usually see in action movies and instead become pure art. And the hero Furiosa, with her metal arm and weaponized truck, is the perfect embodiment of defiance and hope in the face of authoritarian madness.

The Matrix (1999)

It has been parodied into oblivion and its sequels were straight-up terrible, but the original Matrix still holds up. It has a rock-solid sci-fi concept and a world that strikes a great balance between “fully realized” and “mysterious” (trying to over-explain the nuances of that world is part of what made subsequent films such miserable slogs). And if its giant computers and phones and late-'90s CGI date it a little, the effect is mostly endearing.

The Martian (2015)

The Martian managed to squeeze a lot of goodness into a 151-minute-long blockbuster. To my eyes, it offered the most realistic cinematic depiction of how Mars might actually appear to a human being trying to survive there, bringing the bleak, desolate Red Planet to life on the screen. It also conjured up what a mid-century, NASA-led mission to Mars might actually look like, with one important caveat—the space agency would need to have a far, far greater budget than it does today. Finally, and perhaps most importantly, it made a hero of Mark Watney and his botany-geek self. Science and nerditude carried the day.

Metropolis (1927)

Most of the major sci-fi tentpoles you’ll find on this list were erected by Fritz Lang’s 1927 opus. We’ll always remember Metropolis for the extravagance—the budget, the runtime, the enormous sets—but the film also masterfully connects guesses about future industries and scientific advancements with the human condition. Jumble the whole story of love and rebellion with a “confused identity thanks to robots” sub-plot, and you’ve got a tech-rich tragedy that, thanks to restoration efforts over the past decade, is fuller and easier to understand for modern audiences than ever before.

Moon (2009)

When is pulp sci-fi not pulp sci-fi? When it's as finely done as Moon. Unabashedly borrowing visual cues from 2001, Alien, Aliens, and other greats, Moon is a pastiche of the best kind: it takes an old set of ideas and dresses them up in an engaging, intriguing new way. Sam Rockwell plays the sole inhabitant of a lunar mining base, and he's about to finish up his multi-year contract and go home—or is he? What's with the base's persistent comms outage? Why is the base's main computer/robot so solicitous? How long has Sam really been on the Moon? Sure, you'll see some of the plot twists coming—but that doesn't make the story any less well-told.

Pacific Rim (2013)

A divisive pick among staff, Pacific Rim muscled its way onto this list by virtue of being stupidly awesome. Yes, each plot point (and even each scene's dialog!) is as predictable as a metronome. Yes, the science is sketchier than a kindergarten art class. It doesn't matter—when that guitar-backed hero theme starts and the giant robots spin up, you'll feel as invincible as a Jaeger pilot. Grab your giant sword and check your brain at the door, because this movie rules, and anyone who says otherwise is wrong, wrong, wrong.

Planet of the Apes (1968)

“To apes, all men look alike.” That's the classic line from the 1968 Charlton Heston sci-fi thriller, Planet of the Apes, which is perhaps the greatest concept flick ever produced. It questions our perceptions of time. It also poses the question of whether humans evolved from apes or whether apes evolved from humans. I’ve seen the movie at least 20 times, and the ending never ceases to blow my mind.

Primer (2004)

Shot on the cheap in and around Dallas, this 2004 film about a pair of engineers who accidentally discover time travel in their garage is not easy to follow the first time you see it. The characters mumble dialog into their chests just like how real humans talk, the narrators telling the story might be lying, and the same events are shown from multiple points of view—we're never sure what's really real. But the joy, they say, is in the journey, and trying to piece together exactly what the hell happens in this story of unexplained paradoxes is part of the fun. Primer is that rare kind of film that not only benefits from repeat viewings but also manages to show you something new every time you watch it.

Robocop (1987)

When Robocop first came out, it gained notoriety for both the ultra-violent semi-assassination of its protagonist and its conjuring of a Trump-style urban dystopia dominated by hyper-capitalism and profit, profit, profit. But the central issue of the movie isn't any of that; it's really about the eponymous character's struggle to regain his humanity, and through that reclaim humanity's essential role in a violent and inhumane corporate world. And to do that, he's got to fight his own replacement, built by the same company that turned him into a cyborg in the first place. On top of it all, Kurtwood Smith delivers a wonderful, scenery-chewing performance as the amoral and psychotic Clarence Boddicker—Red Forman he definitely ain't.

Stalker (1979)

No sci-fi bucket list is complete unless it covers everything from great popcorn entertainment to inscrutable art films. For the latter, let's talk about Stalker from Soviet director Andrei Tarkovsky, whom Vanity Fair's David Kamp describes in his book The Film Snob's Dictionary as "manna to [Film] Snobs for whom Jean Cocteau, Ingmar Bergman, and Alain Resnais are insufficiently opaque" and "afflicted with a glacial sense of pacing that makes watching his films not so much an entertainment choice as a lifestyle." In Stalker, a troubled psychic (known as a "Stalker") leads a scientist and a writer into an overgrown, forbidden city that was abandoned years ago after a rumored alien crash landing. Inside the city, (known only as "The Zone") is "The Room," which has the power to fulfill the innermost desire of anyone who enters. Hilarity ensues, and by "hilarity" I mean moody Russians stare off into a miserable, post-industrial distance while debating the dangers of having your innermost desires fulfilled.

Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan (1982)

Khan is one of few Star Trek films that is actually a good movie in addition to being a “good Star Trek movie.” Sure, it’s more rewarding if you’ve already spent hours with Kirk, Spock, and McCoy and crew, but you don’t need to have seen the original series or the episode that introduced Khan to enjoy it. It’s got a solid sci-fi hook in the Genesis project. It’s got Trek’s very best villain, ever, period. Its long, tense, quiet stretches are just as enjoyable as its explosive confrontations. It’s a beautiful statement on aging and death and sacrifice. And it’s probably the best William Shatner has ever been in anything.

Star Wars (1977)

The original Star Wars is arguably the most purely entertaining movie ever made. Likable characters with relatable emotions do battle with loathsome villains in a fantastic setting. What's often forgotten by people fighting on the Internet is how profoundly, intentionally, magnificently silly Star Wars is. The genius of writer-director George Lucas isn't the story (he'll be the first to tell you he lifted it wholecloth from Joseph Campbell's Hero's Journey and Kurosawa's Hidden Fortress), but the sandbox. Star Wars' lived-in outer space—full of an endless variety of implausible species zipping around in spaceships that are as beat-up as my 2001 Corolla—feels like it goes on infinitely in any direction.

Terminator 2 (1991)

Ok, initially it was a bit jarring to have Arnold Schwarzenegger morph from the baddie to the good guy in between Terminator 1 and 2, but it sure felt good to see Ahnold kick some ass alongside Sarah Connor. This is also the rare sequel that improves upon the original movie; in addition to a solid story, it also delivers some amazing visual effects with the liquid metal, shape shifting T-1000 assassin. And finally, that soundtrack—it had been three years since Guns ‘n Roses had released a new song in 1991, and hearing "You Could be Mine" blaring during the end credits rocked.

They Live (1988)

Everything on /r/conspiracy is true in this satirical (?) John Carpenter 1988 classic. A down-on-his-luck drifter, John Nada—played by professional wrestler “Rowdy” Roddy Piper in an epic star turn—discovers that the source of all suffering and oppression is a race of capitalist/imperialist aliens who use hidden subliminal messages on everything to control the populous. The aliens and the plot are exposed when John puts on a pair of sunglasses that peel away the veneer concealing the aliens and their messages and battles the nefarious alien Illuminati, declaring, “I have come to chew bubble gum and kick ass… and I’m all out of bubble gum.” The movie gets bonus points for one of the greatest fights in cinematic history, between Piper and Keith David. Trust us. It's spectacular.

The Thing (1982)

A profoundly disgusting alien shapeshifter attacks researchers at an isolated Antarctic base. The researchers fight back—with flamethrowers and dynamite. Even when you realize The Thing doesn't really make sense—why doesn't the monster just turn into bacteria and infect everyone with one good sneeze?—it gains another layer. What if the men all have cabin fever and are suffering from a collective delusion that's leading them to set each other on fire for no damn reason? Much like Director John Carpenter's They Live from a few years earlier (and just above us in this list), The Thing presents a human society that can no longer be trusted.

THX-1138 (1971)

Commercially, George Lucas' theatrical retelling of his student film Electronic Labyrinth: THX 1138 4EB was not a success. The movie presents a bleak white-on-white utopia where dead-eyed, drug-addicted citizens live only to produce and consume useless goods, with silver-faced robots watching over all. The subconscious horror brought on by the movie's unremitting bleakness made the film unpopular and hard to swallow at release, as did Lucas' jargon-filled dialog. Nonetheless, the sheer power of the movie's vision makes THX-1138 a must-watch. Protip: if you can, track down the original theatrical cut, not the 2004 director's cut. The CGI enhancements detract from the stark madness of the original.

Tron (1982)

In 1982, 8 bits were all we had when it came to computers—and then Tron arrived in movie theaters. The first theatrical release to combine live action and CGI, Tron’s visuals stunned my teenage self, as well as moviegoers around the world (though most of the movie's visual effects were actually hand-drawn by a small army of Taiwanese animators). And it wasn’t just the graphics—the story and acting were all strong, led by Jeff Bridges’ excellent performance as programmer Kevin Flynn, who finds himself trapped in a huge 1980s video game/computer world. The movie's prescient hacker-culture message shines through like a stark beam of computer laser light: information wants to be free, and that freedom is worth fighting for. Tron is also famous for inspiring an infinite number of schoolyard frisbee-fights in the 1980s.

Videodrome (1983)

This tale of a mind-controlling cable signal, semi-biological VHS tapes, and a cult of television worship could only come from the mind of David Cronenberg. A cult hit in the 1980s, it stars James Woods as a sleazy cable producer who stumbles across a cable channel that broadcasts images of kinky sex along with a “signal” that slowly alters his personality. As he descends into madness, his body starts to merge with broadcast technologies and he realizes there’s an underground religious conspiracy that revolves around cable TV (and Blondie, playing a hallucinatory cable vixen!). The movie is almost worth it just to see Woods insert a throbbing VHS tape into a weird vaginal opening in his abdomen. Videodrome captures the paranoia of the early cable age, when suddenly it seemed like anything could be broadcast on TV and jammed directly into our minds.

WALL-E (2008)

One of many brilliant animated features to come out of Pixar in the 2000s, WALLE is a sweet romance between two robots—and it's also a powerful sci-fi story about humanity’s dark future. After covering the entire Earth with garbage, humans have fled to giant mall-like spaceships where they spend centuries eating, buying useless gadgets, and evolving into blobs. Meanwhile, robots continue to scour Earth for signs that it’s environmentally safe for humans to return. One such robot, EVE, meets the waste reclamation robot WALLE while on her mission to find plant life. Can their love survive deep space and the pathetic mess that Homo sapiens has become? Their story is the best kind of parable, because it stands on its own as a gentle romcom, an environmental dystopia, and an existential drama about the fate of humanity. Plus, it’s cute. Really, really cute.

WarGames (1983)

Chunky '80s keyboards, vector graphics, Matthew Broderick’s fashion stylings, and the looming specter of the Cold War turning hot will forever date WarGames. But as this American election season has hammered home, the future is all about "the cyber,” and WarGames serves as a stark reminder of how interconnected military control systems will forever suffer for their connection to fallible people and their unthinking allegiance to programmed orders. The film began Broderick's streak as one of America’s most beloved teen actors—while simultaneously establishing the stereotype of “brilliant kid, bored at school, becomes a top-notch hacker." Director John Badham delivers a surprisingly believable, enjoyable techno-thriller without alienating either geeks or tech novices—and who’da thunk Mr. Saturday Night Fever could have pulled that off?

The worst of the worst

As a bonus, we also wracked our brains to come up with the worst science fiction movies we could think of. As with the list above, each of these films is definitely worth watching at least once—after all, the best way to be in on a joke is to understand what the joke's about, and if you've never seen Zardoz, you won't be able to quote along with your friends when they all begin chanting the ol' "the gun is good, the penis is evil" speech!

Bad Taste (1987)

Before Peter Jackson became Mr. Fancypants with his Lord of the Rings trilogy, he was a broke-ass horror fan in New Zealand who made incredibly gory, low-budget flicks like Bad Taste. Why did that guy’s head need to get chopped in half? Why are the aliens drinking each other’s barf? What is even happening? These are the kinds of profound questions raised by this movie, which will make you nauseous but will never disappoint. Well—it might disappoint you if you don't want to be nauseous.

Barbarella (1968)

Okay, yes, Barbarella is a legit cult classic, but it's still just a really, really bad movie. Based on a French comic book, the film is 100 minutes of uninspired titillation and un-funny camp, all hinging around the one-note joke of what crazy thing Jane Fonda will have sex with next. If there's one good thing to be said about this movie, it's that at least the creators knew they were making a turkey and rolled with it.

Battlefield Earth (2000)

All you need to know is that this movie brings together the best and brightest from the Church of Scientology (John Travolta! Forest Whitaker!) in a thoroughly terrible adaptation of the first part of L. Ron Hubbard’s epic novel. Yep, this badly acted mess with terrible costumes and effects is part of the belief system of Scientologists. Watch and laugh… until you cry. You man-animal, you.

Brain Damage (1988)

Maniacal writer/director Frank Hennenlotter is undoubtedly one of the masters of the late twentieth century cult movie, producing underground hits like Frankenhooker and Basket Case. But Brain Damage is his unsung masterwork about a sentient parasite named Aylmer who can inject your brain with a drug so good that you’d do anything to feel it again—including find fresh brains for Aylmer to eat. Aylmer's favorite thing is to hide in our addicted hero’s pants and wait for an unlucky lady to unzip them so he can pounce. He also sings show tunes. If you like body horror and completely unhinged storytelling, Brain Damage will rock your world.

Re-Animator (1985)

Of course you want to watch Jeffrey Combs (Star Trek: DS9 and TNG) as a mad scientist who invents a glowing green fluid that can reanimate the dead. Heck, it can even reanimate individual body parts, which is why the bad guy is walking around with his head in a bowling bag. A terrific example of the splatstick subgenre, this bizarre satire is so silly and filthy and deranged that you can’t go another minute without drinking it in (with drinks, hopefully—lots of drinks).

Robot Jox (1990)

If Pacific Rim is the zenith of giant fighting robot movies, Robot Jox is the nadir. The movie tries, but it's just pure lunacy dressed up in trappings that are far too deadly serious. The painfully plodding plot is weighted down with awkward exposition to try to justify why a world in which robots battle each other needs to exist, and the stop motion special effects are sometimes very briefly awesome... but usually just awful. Not even the climax involving a robot with a jumbo-sized chainsaw for a dick can save this wreck from crashing and burning. If you see it for the first time when you're eight years old, it might be the greatest robot movie ever; otherwise, give it a miss.

Solarbabies (1986)

When a movie makes Hollywood legend Mel Brooks want to kill himself, you know it's bad—and this 1986 flop is bad. The plot involves a bunch of post-apocalyptic orphans who live to rollerblade and rollerblade to live. They're locked in a perpetual battle with, I don't know, some evil adults in black uniforms who represent corporations or the establishment or something—something very authoritarian, in a totally '80s way. One of the orphans finds a glowing ball of energy, and the rest of them have to battle-skate their way to freedom, playing future-hockey-lacrosse against evil grownups on what appears to be the set from the old Laser Tag commercials. Don't even rent this movie to watch ironically—it's not even good enough to laugh at.

Star Trek Nemesis (2002)

Nemesis, together with the Enterprise TV show, represents the sputtering and dying of the Star Trek franchise renaissance that Wrath of Khan kicked off two decades before. And boy, was it a sour note to end on! The relationship between the cast and Director Stuart Baird was infamously terrible. The movie blatantly ignores established series canon, which can be fine if you use it to tell a good story, but it just comes off as lazy and careless here. It duplicates the heroic act of self-sacrifice from Khan but can’t manage to summon the same pathos. But while Nemesis mostly makes me sad, it’s not all bad. The cast does salvage a handful of nice moments from the wreckage, Tom Hardy’s scenery-chewing villain Shinzon is fun in a campy B-movie sort of way, and the space battles are cool. It’s just not nearly as good a send-off as 1991’s Star Trek VI was for the original cast.

Zardoz (1974)

Let’s consider the evidence, shall we? Sean Connery has giant sideburns, thigh-high boots, and a furry red speedo (later he’s wearing a lacy wedding dress, but by then you won’t care because you’re so stoned—or at least you should try to get that way before you hit play on this movie). There are giant floating stone heads that spew guns and yell “the gun is the penis!” There are LSD trips with 1970s “futuristic technology,” and orgies, and people in clown outfits, and some kind of ill-defined apocalypse that led to the making of this movie. Director John Boorman, who also made Deliverance and the brutally awesome Excalibur, delivers a far-future science fiction tale that is so full of delicious nonsense that you’ll be quoting from it for the rest of your life.