It’s 3 AM And Your Scrolling Through Tumblr in 2013 | 3 Hidden Film Gems To Add To Your Watchlist
Nowhere (1997) – Gregg Araki
Ever Imagine what would happen if The Breakfast Club was Directed By Quentin Tarantino and Lisa Frank after dabbing 10 tabs of acid?
The result is 82 minutes of neon-drenched nihilism peppered with the right amount of iconic 90’s fashion choices and nightmare fuel inducing scenes about love triangles, visceral violence and a secret alien invasion .
Directed by Gregg Araki Nowhere depicts the day in the lives of a group of disaffected youth in Los Angeles and the strange lives they lead.
The cinematography is a chaotic blend of pastel nightmares and suburban surrealism, where every shot feels like a music video directed by someone who’s watched too many episodes of Aeon Flux.
Not the Y2K angst flick you asked for, but it’s definitely the one you deserve.
Christiane F. (1981) – Directed by Uli Edel
If Berlin in the late ’70s was a person, they’d be chain-smoking in a thrifted leather jacket, glaring at you through black eyeliner smudges, and casually quoting David Bowie lyrics between hits of whatever’s destroying their life.
Christiane F. is that vibe distilled into a movie—a raw, grunge-soaked descent into the heroin-fueled, neon-lit despair of Berlin’s underground scene. It’s devastating, yes, but the DIY punk aesthetic, filthy-yet-fabulous interiors, and Bowie cameo-level soundtrack make it a visual and auditory goldmine for people looking for a blueprint for looking cool while everything falls apart.
Every character looks like an indie sleaze icon on their last legs. If you’ve ever wished Requiem for a Dream had more cigarette smoke and high fashion, this is your tragic, David Bowie scored wake-up call. Just don’t blame us when you start googling “Berlin clubs 1978” at 4 AM
Run Lola Run (1998) – Tom Tykwer
Imagine getting stuck in a Eurotrash music video that refuses to end. That’s Run Lola Run—a high-octane, neon-drenched fever dream where a girl with fire-engine red hair sprints through Berlin in a cropped tank top and cargo pants like the world’s coolest video game protagonist.
Every frame feels like a rave flyer from 1998, complete with frenetic editing, glitchy jump cuts, and a pulsating techno soundtrack that will fry your last remaining brain cell. It’s fashion meets adrenaline, a cyberpunk fairytale for the club kid burnout who still thinks in strobe lights.
If you’ve ever wanted a movie that feels like downing five Red Bulls in a Berghain bathroom, this one’s for you. Just don’t blink—you might miss something iconic