Maybe they're a chore to sit through.
Perhaps they're just too disturbing.
Or maybe they're so emotionally traumatic that they left us weeping on the floor for
days.
From melodramatic war movies to stunning but slow-moving sci-fi, these are the greatest
movies we'll never watch again.
War is hell, and while no film can truly capture the horrors of battle, The Deer Hunter does
a pretty good job of taking moviegoers into the ninth circle.
This 1978 epic follows a trio of blue collar steelworkers who can't wait to see action
in Vietnam.
But when they finally descend into the jungle, they're put through the worst tortures imaginable,
and the trauma doesn't stop once they come back home.
The movie opens innocently enough, with our three leads, Mike, Nick, and Steven, celebrating
at a wedding and joyously preparing for war.
They ignore the grim warning from a shaken Green Beret, and when they're finally tossed
into the jungle, they wind up smack dab in one of the most horrific movie scenes of all
time: the Russian roulette sequence.
Captured by the Viet Cong, the friends are forced to play the suicidal game for the amusement
of their guards, and the acting here is so intense that it feels like a genuine snuff
film.
All David Lynch movies feel a little dreamlike, but Inland Empire is pure subconscious surrealism,
a cinematic fugue state that lasts over three hours.
It's like you've stumbled straight into Lynch's worst nightmares.
The movie is an impenetrably slow descent into a world of red lights, ambient noises,
and digital camerawork.
And while you can always appreciate Lynch's avant garde genius, Inland Empire provides
more questions than answers.
"They're a group that performs in traveling shows.
In the Baltic Region."
"What's that got to do with you?"
For some fans, this might sound like an awesome experience, but for most moviegoers, Inland
Empire feels like the world's worst acid trip.
It's definitely worth watching once, but when it's over, you might be a too overwhelmed
to give it another shot.
In The Killing of a Sacred Deer, Colin Farrell plays a heart surgeon named Steven Murphy
whose fondness for the bottle contributed to the death of a patient.
Steven refuses to admit any wrongdoing, and that's just not going to sit with the patient's
son, an unusual teen by the name of Martin Lang.
"Your son told me that you've got lots of hair under your arms, three times more than
I do, and that you've got a very hairy back and a very hairy belly."
There's something off about Martin, and that's before he reveals his godlike power to enact
revenge on Steven's entire family.
As part of his revenge scheme, Martin tells Steven all his family members are going to
die of a mysterious illness.
They'll become paralyzed, and then they'll refuse to eat.
And after they start bleeding from their eyes, they'll die.
The only way Steven can stop this plague is by killing a member of his family.
The movie gets even darker when the family turns on each other, arguing why they shouldn't
be the one to die.
The desperation, the betrayal, the blood, it's all so cruel, and it culminates in one
of the most disturbing climaxes ever filmed.
Horrific in ways that no slasher film could ever achieve, The Killing of a Sacred Deer
is a powerful film that you won't watch more than once.
Instead, you'll want to put a curse on whoever recommended the film to you in the first place.
"It's the only thing I can think of that's close to justice."
Released in 2011, Kill List follows Jay, a soldier-turned-assassin who's fallen on hard
times.
He's got money problems, relationship troubles, and some serious PTSD.
But things start looking up when he gets a gig to pick off three easy targets.
However, whenever he shows up to put a cap in his victims, they start thanking him for
the privilege of dying by his hand.
It's more than a little unsettling, and soon, Jay realizes he's in the center of an occult
conspiracy that demands a lot of blood and some really big sacrifices.
Kill List is an all-out assault on the senses.
Not only is it one of the most suspenseful movies ever made, but it's filled with disturbing
sequences.
The final showdown with a group of naked pagans is pure nightmare fuel, but it's the final
few minutes that will leave you reeling.
Arachnophobes, beware.
If eight-legged creatures give you the willies, then you might want to stay far away from
Enemy.
Directed by Denis Villeneuve, this eerie thriller is full of spider imagery.
Shot in a sickly yellow hue, Enemy stars Jake Gyllenhaal as a college professor who's made
an unsettling discovery.
After renting a particular film, he spots an actor who looks exactly like him.
Eventually, the two doppelgängers collide, and let's just say they don't become best
of friends.
Actor-Gyllenhaal is a grim and violent man and pulls depressed and weary Professor-Gyllenhaal
deeper and deeper into his web of darkness.
Playing two roles, Gyllenhaal makes your skin crawl, with his characters engaging in all
sorts of unsavory activities.
Enemy is a film that's likely to make you queasy and uneasy, and that's even before
you get to the absolutely horrifying ending scene.
"Ah, never know how your day's going to turn out."
Based on a tragic true event, Fruitvale Station tells the story of Oscar Grant, a 22-year-old
man who was killed by a Bay Area Rapid Transit officer in 2009.
We watch Oscar bonding with his daughter and connecting with strangers.
We see him smile and laugh, full of life.
Sure, he's got some issues, but he's a sincere guy trying to make things better.
And what hurts is that we know he'll never get that chance.
Director Ryan Coogler does an excellent job of showing Oscar as a living, breathing human,
not just a statistic.
He loves, feels pain, makes mistakes, and affects so many people.
But all his chances for a brighter future are brought to a bloody halt when he's shot
in the back for absolutely no reason.
He leaves behind a child, a girlfriend, and a mother.
A human being bleeds to death on New Year's Day, and as Fruitvale Station comes to an
end, we're not just depressed, we're mourning a life that was taken far too soon.
In Manchester by the Sea, Casey Affleck plays Lee Chandler, a handyman who's cut himself
off from the world.
The only time he interacts with people is when he's picking fights at the bar.
However, Lee is forced out of hiding when is brother dies from cardiac arrest.
Naturally, Lee has to return to his hometown to arrange the funeral and care for his nephew
Patrick.
Eventually, we discover why Lee hates his hometown and why he's a depressed, angry shell
of a man.
One evening, after a night of drinking, Lee accidentally started a fire that killed his
two kids.
Unable to deal with the pain, Lee divorced his wife and has done his best to disappear.
For a moment, it seems like the bond he's forming with his nephew might save him from
his past, but this isn't a Hallmark movie.
In the last act, Lee admits the truth to Patrick.
"I can't beat it.
I'm sorry."
As much as he cares for his nephew, he can't overcome his depression and guilt.
There are no easy solutions or feel-good endings here, and while Manchester by the Sea is a
beautiful film, wallowing in all that misery a second time sounds like the most painful
two hours you could ever spend.
Directed by Denis Villeneuve, Blade Runner 2049 is one of the most gorgeous movies ever
made.
A worthy follow-up to the 1982 original, this stunning sequel nabbed cinematographer Richard
Deakins the Oscar award he's always deserved.
From its barren desert wastelands to its neon holograms, 2049 is a visually rich world of
replicants and artificial intelligence, all beautifully bathed in smog and city lights.
However, it's not exactly what you'd call a fast-paced film.
In fact, you might even call it a slog.
The movie follows Ryan Gosling as K, a blade runner who stumbles across a mystery that
might revolutionize the entire world.
Crazier still, he might be at the center of a vast conspiracy, and during his quest for
the truth, he meets the original blade runner himself, Rick Deckard.
But while K does indeed solve the mystery, the film takes its sweet time in getting to
the answers.
While Blade Runner 2049 is a fantastic work of science fiction, it runs almost three hours
long, and even thinking about rewatching it might be enough to make you a little sleepy.
After winding up in the world's scariest club, the members of a punk rock band stumble across
a particularly nasty murder scene.
Knowing the alt-right owners aren't going to let them walk away, the band members lock
themselves in the titular room and prepare for war.
But jiu-jitsu will only get you so far when your opponents are walking around with pistols
and pit bulls.
With our heroes completely outmatched, Green Room quickly devolves into a gore-soaked nightmare
of ripped-out throats and nearly-severed limbs.
Unlike a lot of other horror films, the deaths in Green Room aren't at all fun.
These kids are screaming in genuine pain as they're mangled by dogs and hacked by machetes.
Green Room is fantastic, but at its core, the movie is as mean and nihilistic as cinema
gets.
And while the rockers eventually take their revenge, so much blood gets splattered on
the walls by the end that it should probably be renamed Red Room.
A passion project for Martin Scorsese, Silence features no gangsters, no dirty cops, and
no taxi-driving assassins.
Instead, the story follows two Jesuit priests, Father Rodrigues and Father Garupe, as they
head to Japan to find a missing priest, Father Ferreira.
Steadfast in his faith, Rodrigues is tested when he falls into the hands of a ruthless
Japanese governor.
Practicing Christianity in Japan was punishable by death in the 17th century, but the governor
doesn't just want to murder this priest.
He wants to break his spirit and make him renounce his beliefs.
"Think of the suffering you have inflicted on these people, just because of your selfish
dream of a Christian Japan."
On top of the physical torment, Father Rodrigues is in constant spiritual pain.
Should he recant and damn his soul to save the lives of others?
And in the midst of all this pain, why is God so silent?
Whether you're a believer or an atheist, Silence is a painful reminder that faith is never
easy, and the silence of the universe is the most painful torture of all.
"We have our own religion, Padre.
A pity you did not know this yet."
"No, no, we just think a different way."