10 Films To Get To Know Me

Daniel Beals
Oct 27
5 min read

I watched movies LONG before I started working on them.

This is one of those trends circulating on social media lately. I highlighted my "10 Films" list on Instagram, but here, I want to dive deeper—not just into the films themselves, but into what they reveal about my evolving perspective as a filmmaker.

Let's dive in!

Highlander (1986)

I was young when I first watched Connor MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod endure tragedy: witnessing his wife, Heather, age while he remained immortal, bearing the weight of goodbye. Highlander wasn’t merely a story to me—it was my first education in cinema. The cinematography, the VFX, the staging—they weren’t just techniques; I was witnessing storytelling in its purest form. It was the lightning strike that ignited my creative life.

The Kurgan remains, to this day, one of the most terrifyingly magnetic villains onscreen, and Lambert’s laugh—an infectious blend of charm and mischief—still dazzles my imagination. The remake may come, but as the moniker decrees: there can be only one. This is my Highlander.

Rear Window (1954)

Hitchcock’s Rear Window embodies precision and tension in a way that reshaped my understanding of filmic space. I discovered it during film school, and the idea of a high-stakes, large-scale thriller unfolding entirely within the confines of a single apartment was revelatory. It showed me how environment can become a character, and observation a plot device.

While I’ve yet to master the craft Hitchcock demonstrates here (The Crimson Pool being my closest attempt), every time I revisit Rear Window, I recalibrate my understanding of pacing, framing, and narrative restraint. Classic films like this are not just entertainment—they're time capsules that embolden our empathy and understanding of one another,

True Romance (1993)

I love this movie so much. It dips its bloody toe into so many different genres within a single film. That taught me that you can go wild and broad in tone and genre. This was the film where I understood that “the rules” of storytelling are guidelines. You don't have to hold onto them. Moreover, not every journey needs them.

It's both my favorite Tarantino movie and my favorite Tony Scott film (RIP). As a young film student, I became enamored with two filmmakers: John Woo and Tony f%#*in’ Scott. All style and sex dripped on top of a character-drama cake.

This film introduced me to many of my favorite actors.

Michael Clayton (2007)

The hype for this movie will never be overblown. It is a PERFECT MOVIE. This late-2000s gem harkens back to the mid-budget character thrillers of the ’90s in a way that reinforced for me that films like those can and should still be made. They're important.

Michael Clayton (by the unparalleled Tony Gilroy—of Andor) showed me that all that really matters for a movie to be great is the script. Story and character need to take precedence before spectacle. Hell, when your story and characters are as airtight as they are here, they BECOME the spectacle. Michael Clayton’s “You’re so F%#*ED” line at the end hits harder than any third-act CGI-fest action sequence ever has.

Akira (1988)

Akira shattered the boundaries of animation. Katsuhiro Otomo’s cyberpunk epic taught me that animation isn’t just a medium—it’s a limitless canvas. Kaneda’s bike slide, celebrated and homaged endlessly, communicates character and narrative with a precision many live-action sequences can only aspire to.

This film instilled in me a belief that animation, when wielded intelligently, can redefine storytelling itself. It’s a standard I aspire to in every medium I touch.

I don't think there's a screen big enough to complement this film. And animators and those working in animation are the creatives who should be making the MOST in our industry, IMO—not the least.

Shaun of the Dead (2004)

Talk about blowing open the limits of what can be done! A horror film that's hilarious? And heartfelt? Yeah, I know that's been done prior to this film, but never in such a kinetic manner. I saw this movie and I saw my tone—the kind of stories I imagined myself telling one day—up on the big screen for the first time.

After this film, I started sitting up straighter and paying attention to staging and blocking. There's a choreography to Edgar Wright's work that, I think, stands shoulder-to-shoulder with Spielberg. A definite must-watch.

Another absolutely flawless film.

Parasite (2019)

Korean cinema has definitely taken over the international vacuum left by the neutering of the Hong Kong film industry. If there was ever a film that restored my faith in the power and beauty of cinema and the movie-going experience in the age of streaming, it's Parasite.

This dramatic takedown of late-stage capitalism by the master Bong Joon-ho couldn't have come at a better time. But the fact that it was so satirical and poetic and tragic made it feel new. Like Shaun of the Dead—only from the other side of the mirror—Parasite has it all and easily represents everything ELSE that I want my movies to be.

Sicario (2015)

I've never felt so tense—not in any horror film, not during any thriller—as I did watching the “entering and exiting Juarez” sequences of this film.

Sicario, a masterfully steered ship of carnage by director/captain Denis Villeneuve, cements how powerful tone and mood are to your film. When you get them right, and your movie is consistent in these throughout, you can have cinemas packed with people who are collectively holding their breath.

It's magic. This movie is magic. But I have yet to see a bad movie from Villeneuve, so, retrospectively, I am not surprised.

Planes, Trains, & Automobiles (1987)

I was a kid when I saw this. I was watching this comedy and I couldn't understand why I was crying. It was only later that I realized that comedy mixed with drama is cinematic dynamite.

I love me some Meatballs and goof-off humor, but this is the pinnacle of what a comedy can be.

I grew up really connecting to John Candy (RIP) in this role, so I think that's part of it too. We all just want a place to belong. A tribe. Now, that all being said, this is legitimately also one of the absolute funniest movies ever made, so…

Yeah, definitely my favorite John Hughes film.

Hard Boiled (1992)

Hong Kong action cinema of the ’90s was peak cinema! I'm grateful as hell that I was a curious kid—that I sought out films, stories, hell, PEOPLE—from around the world. I was unknowingly expanding my worldview through art (which is how it’s supposed to work).

My raft landed immediately on the movies of John Woo. I was giddy watching bullets and cameras and actors choreographed in ways that I'd only seen happen in musicals up to that point.

You want the origin of every action movie being made today? Watch Hard Boiled.

Honorable Mention: Mad Max: Fury Road (2015)

Fury Road is a relentless lesson in visual storytelling. George Miller crafts narrative almost entirely through movement, composition, and rhythm. While my own scripts are more verbal at present, Fury Road remains a benchmark, challenging me to think about cinema as language beyond dialogue.

Thanks for exploring these films with me. Revisiting them was revelatory—reminding me why inspiration shifts, why craft matters, and why every story I tell must honor the language of cinema itself.

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