10 Great Sci-Fi Movies That Deserve to Be in the Criterion Collection, Ranked

The Criterion Collection is famous for curating films that changed cinema. Sci-fi is often underrepresented in that canon, yet the genre has produced some of the most daring, beautiful, and provocative works in film history. With this in mind, this list looks at some sci-fi movies that deserve a spot in the famed Closet. The titles below use the future to challenge the present, asking who we are, what we fear, and where we might be going. Each needs a place in the Collection, not only for their artistry but for how they expand our understanding of what sci-fi cinema can achieve.

10

‘Paprika’ (2006)

“Light dreams of darkness.” Satoshi Kon‘s final film, Paprika, is a dazzling fever dream. The story follows a group of scientists using a device that allows them to enter dreams, only for the boundaries between waking life and imagination to collapse. The visuals are kaleidoscopic: a parade of inanimate objects bursting to life, shifting identities, and dreamscapes that fold in on themselves. But beyond its surreal beauty, Paprika is notable for the way it genuinely wrestles with technology’s impact on identity, control, and freedom of thought. It also raises interesting questions about the wafer-thin boundary between reality and fiction.

Nowadays, it’s impossible to watch without thinking of Inception, which drew heavily on its imagery, but Kon’s film remains the more daring work, less concerned with puzzle-box clarity and more with the anarchic, uncontrollable nature of dreams themselves. It’s a Criterion-worthy reminder that sci-fi can be both cerebral and wildly fantastical.

9

‘THX 1138’ (1971)

“Work hard, increase production, prevent accidents, and be happy.” Before Star Wars, George Lucas made THX 1138, a stark vision of a future where individuality has been erased. It depicts a sterile underground society controlled by drugs, consumerism, and constant surveillance, a far cry from the warm quirkiness of the galaxy far, far away. The endless white corridors and faceless police drones strip humanity down to its barest existence, the conformity suffocating. At the heart of all this is Robert Duvall‘s great performance as THX, a worker who dares to feel and rebel.

What makes the film Criterion-worthy is not just its bleak dystopian aesthetic, but its audacity. This was a debut feature that dismantled 1970s optimism and foreshadowed the anxieties of modern surveillance culture. Despite a few rough edges, it remains one of Lucas’s most daring works, a reminder that his talent extended beyond space operas to serious, unsettling science fiction.

8

‘Aniara’ (2018)

“We’ve built our own little planet.” Based on a Swedish poem from 1956 (yes, really), Aniara is one of the most haunting sci-fi movies of the 2010s. It’s about passengers on a spaceship headed for Mars who are knocked off course and left adrift, unable to turn back. What begins as a temporary setback slowly unravels into existential despair, as years pass and the crew faces the horrifying realization that they may never reach another planet. This concept has parallels to Children of Men in that it’s really about what people do when there is no future.

This is tricky material, but the filmmakers pull it off, transforming a simple premise into an allegory for ecological collapse, consumer culture, and the terrifying vastness of space. The result is a bleak, meditative vision of humanity lost in the void. Criterion often celebrates films that merge arthouse aesthetics with genre storytelling, and Aniara deserves recognition as a modern masterwork of cosmic despair.

7

‘Dark City’ (1998)

“This city, everyone in it… is their experiment.” From the mind of The Crow‘s Alex Proyas, Dark City is a neo-noir sci-fi hybrid that was way ahead of its time. It centers on a man (Rufus Sewell) who wakes up with no memory in a city where the night never ends and mysterious beings manipulate reality itself. The noir influences, including shadow-drenched streets, femme fatales, and pervasive paranoia, blend seamlessly with its sci-fi conceit of alien control and malleable memory. Long overshadowed by The Matrix (released a year later), Dark City deserves recognition for its originality and atmosphere.

The visuals are killer, paying homage to the paintings of Edward Hopper. Dark City‘s production design, with twisting skylines and impossible architecture, remains breathtaking, and its philosophical questions about identity and free will feel even more relevant today. As a meditation on control and illusion, the film is one of the boldest genre blends of the 1990s.

6

‘Coherence’ (2013)

“There’s some dark version of us out there somewhere. What if we’re the dark version?” Made on a shoestring budget, Coherence proves that sci-fi doesn’t need massive effects to unsettle. The film takes place almost entirely during a dinner party, where a group of friends experience strange phenomena linked to a comet passing overhead. As reality fractures, multiple versions of the characters begin crossing timelines. Naturally, paranoia and betrayal followed. Director James Ward Byrkit leans heavily on improvisation, giving the film a raw, unpredictable energy that makes every interaction tense.

Rather than undermining the tension, this lo-fi approach makes the unraveling all the more chilling. What could have been a gimmick becomes an existential nightmare. In this regard, the movie is impressively economical, really getting the most out of the limited elements at its disposal. It delivers cosmic horror and metaphysical disorientation through nothing but character, dialogue, and a single suburban home.

5

‘A Scanner Darkly’ (2006)

“What does a scanner see? Into the head? Down into the heart?” Richard Linklater‘s filmography is studded with a ridiculous number of bangers across various genres, and one of the most unique of them is A Scanner Darkly. The Before Sunrise filmmaker adapts Philip K. Dick‘s paranoid vision of surveillance and addiction with a rotoscoped animation style. Starring Keanu Reeves, Robert Downey Jr., and Winona Ryder, the film depicts a near-future where a narcotics agent becomes addicted to a mind-warping drug called Substance D, blurring his identity until he no longer knows who he is.

The rotoscoping technique perfectly mirrors the story’s themes, rendering faces and places as if they are always on the verge of dissolving. The result is a movie that works on two levels, both a cautionary tale about the war on drugs and a powerful meditation on selfhood in an age of constant observation. Its aesthetic innovation and thematic depth make it one of the most deserving sci-fi films for Criterion recognition.

4

‘Moon’ (2009)

“Gerty, we’re not programmed. We’re people, do you understand?” Moon is a return to classic, cerebral science fiction with a human heart, all of it held together by a brilliant performance from Sam Rockwell. He plays Sam Bell, a lunar worker nearing the end of his three-year contract, only to discover unsettling truths about himself and the corporation that employs him. Through him, the movie asks profound questions about identity, isolation, and the commodification of life itself.

On the visual side, Moon’s production design echoes the tactile futurism of 2001 while maintaining a grounded, melancholy atmosphere. Then there’s the memorable supporting performance from Kevin Spacey as Sam’s sole companion, an AI (which, refreshingly, isn’t trying to kill him). All this adds up to one of the great independent sci-fi films of the modern era and a model of how thoughtful storytelling can outweigh spectacle. What a gem.

3

‘Gattaca’ (1997)

“For someone who was never meant for this world, I must confess I’m suddenly having a hard time leaving it.” Gattaca is a sleek, elegant vision of genetic determinism, where society is stratified between the genetically engineered and those born “naturally.” It’s a once-speculative premise that’s rapidly becoming plausible. Ethan Hawke stars as Vincent, a man who dreams of space travel but is locked out of the system due to his “inferior” DNA. Few sci-fi films balance philosophical depth with such streamlined beauty. The aesthetic is all cold and sterile, while the characters radiate defiance, refusing to be cowed by the system.

Jude Law and Uma Thurman round out a strong cast in a story that feels prophetic in an age of genetic editing. Gattaca has grown in reputation over the years, now recognized as one of the most thoughtful sci-fi flicks of the 1990s. It belongs in Criterion as a film that examines the limits of human potential against systemic oppression.

2

‘Under the Skin’ (2013)

“Do you think I’m pretty?” Under the Skin is a work of pure cinematic hypnosis. Starring Scarlett Johansson as an alien who lures men to their doom in Scotland, the film combines minimal narrative with overwhelming atmosphere. Its imagery is unforgettable: victims sinking into black voids, alien landscapes rendered through sound and abstraction, and the eerie detachment of Johansson’s performance, of course. But beneath its surrealism lies a meditation on humanity; what it means to inhabit a body, to feel empathy, and to be vulnerable.

Basically, the movie forces viewers to see themselves as fragile creatures on the edge of annihilation. Under the Skin is weird, to say the least, and not everyone (many found its conclusion underwhelming, for example). Still, it’s fiercely intelligent and creative, easily one of the boldest sci-fi visions of the past two decades. Criterion has long celebrated films that push boundaries, meaning Under the Skin should be a shoo-in.

1

‘Children of Men’ (2006)

“Everything is a mythical, cosmic battle between faith and chance.” Simply put, Children of Men is one of the greatest sci-fi films of the 21st century. Set in a near-future where humanity has lost the ability to reproduce, society collapses into authoritarianism and despair. In this world, Clive Owen plays a disillusioned man drawn into protecting a miraculously pregnant woman, offering the last spark of hope in a dying world. Alfonso Cuarón tells his story with a mix of genre thrills and genuine depth.

Not to mention, his visual chops are very much on display here. The long takes and immersive camerawork place viewers directly into chaotic, crumbling streets, making its dystopia terrifyingly plausible. The result is a bleak vision of extinction infused with grace and the possibility of renewal. Like the best Criterion selections, it speaks both to its time and to timeless human fears. It’s a masterpiece that demands preservation as a modern classic.