9 widely hated movies that will eventually become classics, according to film critics

Every week, IndieWire asks a select handful of film critics two questions and publishes the results. (The answer to the second, “What is the best film in theaters right now?”, can be found at the end of this post.)

This week's question: Inspired by a tweet from Matt Zoller Seitz, what widely despised (and/or financially disastrous) movie from the last few years will eventually be considered a classic?

SEE ALSO: The 50 best animated movies of all time, according to critics

Carlos Aguilar (@Carlos_Film), Freelance for MovieMaker Magazine/Remezcla

The curious case of “Me and Earl and the Dying Girl” evidences how critical consensus can shift in strange ways from festival premiere to theatrical release, and how easy it is for people to jump on the backlash train. Clearly, not everyone has to love Alfonso Gomez-Rejon’s adaptation of Jesse Andrews’ novel as much as I do, but it was shocking to see how a film that was so instantly beloved at Sundance, where it received both the Grand Jury Prize and the Audience Award, could enlist so many detractors in the months that followed.

Fox Searchlight bought “Me and Earl” for a massive $12 million in Park City thinking it was poised to become a hit, but the disappointing grosses at the end of its run didn’t even make them that money back. It’s likely that both the marketing campaign and the less favorable reviews that appeared closer to its opening day were to blame, and, undoubtedly, the fact that it was up against Jurassic World did not help its cause.

But despite the indifference the world showed towards it, “Me and Earl” remains one of the most sincere, charming, and formally audacious teen dramedies amongst an ever growing list of similarly themed projects. The scene near the end when Greg (a perfectly cast Thomas Mann) shows Rachel (Olivia Clarke), who is in her dying bed no less, the movie he and Earl made for her, wrecks me every time.

Set to Brian Eno’s music, this specific and silent moment elicits incredible vulnerability from both actors and its designed to be as visually enticing as it is moving. Such heartfelt imagery might derive from Gomez-Rejon’s own grieving process given that he made the film shortly after his father had passed. That honesty sets “Me and Earl” apart and infuses it with a real directorial voice. On a lighter note, the team’s dedication to creating a large number of the cheesy adaptations of classic films that Greg and Earl dedicate their lives to in the story is an endearing and hilarious touch.  I’ll be here waiting when everyone realizes they misjudged this gem.

Richard Brody (@tnyfrontrow), The New Yorker

I’m ignoring the “financially disastrous” part, because that’s true of most recent great movies. With the increased quality of film criticism and its rapid spread through on-line discussion, there are fewer true films maudits (“Knight of Cups” and “Song to Song” don’t really count, because they’ve had eloquent and vigorous enthusiasts from the start); I think that the last one, at a robust 19% on Rotten Tomatoes, is from the dawn of Film Twitter: “Gentlemen Broncos.” And while Jared Hess’s two most recent movies, “Don Verdean” and “Masterminds,” don’t quite reach its heights of inspiration, “Don Verdean,” at least, surpasses it in chutzpah; if it wasn’t as widely derided, it was more widely ignored. And since I’m counting on Hess–who’s not yet forty–to come through with a whole flotilla of inspired movies in the years to come, “Don Verdean” will endure, at least for diagnostic purposes.

Siddhant Adlakha (@SidizenKane), Freelance for The Village Voice

Decades from now, long after Martin Scorsese has left us, and perhaps when Andrew Garfield is old and grey, some film student will look at “Silence” on their curriculum and wonder what boring, pretentious snooze-fest from their grandparents’ generation they’ll have to sit through in week eleven. But when week eleven rolls around, they’ll join years’ worth of scholars, filmmakers and film fans who realized how wrong they were for sleeping on a masterpiece.

The film barely made back half its budget – it’s no wonder Scorsese is off working with Netflix, David Ehrlich’s favourite distributor – and it wasn’t the kind of easily digestible feel-good fare to warrant year-end awards. While heavily Christian, it wasn’t for the “God’s Not Dead” crowd either, who would likely shudder at the thought of any substantial theological engagement. It most certainly isn’t for moviegoers who prefer their morality clear-cut and their conclusions straightforward. Who is it actually for, then? Well, that’s a harder to determine without first getting to the root of what it is.

No, I don’t have an answer to that. Not yet, though I’m sure I will someday. I’ve only seen the film once, a year ago, and I haven’t managed to revisit it since (though not for lack of trying), and the reason for that is simple. It is perhaps the most challenging film I’ve seen in recent years, if not ever. It’s difficult in ways that can be hard to swallow, not thanks to some penchant for gore, but because of its interrogative nature. “Silence” is like having worldview – not necessarily your own, but the very concept of outlook – turned upside down and shaken, zeroing in on the immovable building blocks of belief as their nature is called into question. It may not be a future classic by virtue of being on the tip of everyone’s tongue, but it will most certainly be a gem rediscovered.