After the daring American new wave film-making of the 70s and the glittery excess of the 80s, the following decade played out like something of a compromise, with a rise in both audacious indie auteurs and flashy big-budget blockbusters. In the 90s, Hollywood grew in confidence and income, allowing for a broader spectrum of entertainment, and in 1999 it hit a new peak with a year commonly looked back on as one of the best ever, a greatest hits of what the decade had to offer. But the secret to many of the biggest 90s successes are embedded in some of the hits that concluded the decade before.

The pop phenomenon that was 1987’s Fatal Attraction – which, adjusted for ticket price inflation, made a staggering $364m (£258m) in the US – led to a subgenre of insidious thrillers that planted a nefarious outsider into a seemingly perfect vision of domesticity and then let them wreak pet-killing havoc for our entertainment. While the formula became rusty by the mid-90s, it was big business as the decade began; and some sharply crafted, highly suspenseful examples – including Cape Fear, Pacific Heights, The Hand That Rocks the Cradle and Single White Female – played on recession-era fears of losing a carefully constructed middle-class lifestyle.

The mid-budget, grown-up thriller was a staple throughout the 90s in a way that we rarely see now, with star vehicles such as Basic Instinct, In the Line of Fire, The Game, Breakdown, The River Wild, Arlington Road and A Perfect Murder all providing excitement without resorting to hollow effects. The thriller also found its way into the Academy’s favour (something it has struggled to do since) with nominees including Primal Fear and A Simple Plan and winners including Misery, The Usual Suspects and The Silence of the Lambs. The latter led to a smattering of horrifyingly effective serial killer films which went from the lurid fun of Kiss the Girls and Copycat to the nightmarish brilliance of Seven.

Julianne Moore in Safe. Photograph: CHANNEL 4 PICTURE PUBLICITY

Another vital late-80s success came from Steven Soderbergh, whose lo-fi drama Sex, Lies and Videotape won the Palme d’Or at Cannes in 1989 and kicked off a new generation of American indies. Three years later, Quentin Tarantino’s Reservoir Dogs premiered to wild acclaim at Sundance and the director’s figure loomed large over the 90s, for better or worse. While there was an increasingly tiresome procession of substandard crime pics that followed, there was also an independent renaissance with risk-taking mini-studios providing an outlet for a long line of eager, unconventional film-makers from around the world. Aside from Tarantino, the decade saw debuts from David Fincher, Darren Aronofsky, Sofia Coppola, Paul Thomas Anderson, Takashi Miike, Wes Anderson, John Singleton, Jonathan Glazer, Alexander Payne, Spike Jonze, Lynne Ramsay, Christopher Nolan, Richard Linklater, Baz Luhrmann, Guillermo del Toro, Jean-Pierre Jeunet, Nicole Holofcener and Alejandro Amenábar to name but a few. Imagine cinema today without them.

It was a decade that found room for film-making renegades to edge their way from the outskirts into plain view. Would the 80s have been so accepting of Michael Haneke’s brutal thriller Funny Games, Todd Haynes’ disturbing drama Safe, Danny Boyle’s uncompromising zeitgeist-catcher Trainspotting, Pedro Almodóvar’s thrilling heartbreaker All About My Mother and Thomas Vinterberg’s shocking Cannes hit Festen? Or would it have allowed for the return of Terrence Malick, whose soulful epic The Thin Red Line remains one of the greatest war films ever made? The rise of independent cinemas worldwide gave audiences easier access to films that challenged them like never before and shifted the system.

The late-80s growth of high-concept family films such as Big and Who Framed Roger Rabbit? also opened the doors for a decade of PG-rated films that didn’t feel patronisingly targeted. We had mini-franchises such as Home Alone, Sister Act, The Addams Family, Wayne’s World and Father of the Bride; star showcases like Mrs Doubtfire, Groundhog Day, The First Wives Club, Death Becomes Her and Hocus Pocus; and gems from Disney’s sports division like Cool Runnings and The Mighty Ducks. It was also a banner period for the studio’s animated output, with Aladdin and The Lion King alongside the birth of Pixar gifting us the Toy Story franchise.

Given the oversaturated state of the superhero genre today, it’s hard to remember a time when capes and codpieces didn’t dominate the multiplex – but in the 90s they were few and far between. Aside from a smattering of pre-Nolan Batman entries (including Tim Burton’s wonderfully grim 1992 sequel) and a few failed franchise starters, the floor was open for blockbusters that weren’t trapped in an airless cinematic universe. Audiences were gifted the groundbreaking thrills of Jurassic Park, the goofy B-movie pleasure of Independence Day, the ingenious sci-fi of The Matrix, the adrenaline rush of Terminator 2: Judgment Day, the wisecracking fun of Men in Black and the sub-Hitchcockian intrigue of Mission: Impossible. While there was an inevitable rise in CG spectacle throughout the decade, there were also enough action films that felt more grounded in their staging with Speed, True Lies, The Fugitive and The Long Kiss Goodnight all playing out with far less computer-borne sheen than we would see now.

Rupert Everett and Julia Roberts in My Best Friend’s Wedding. Photograph: PR

While the romantic comedy is now something of a loveless genre, the 90s saw charming meet-cutes all over the place. There was the advent of the Working Title Britcom (Four Weddings and a Funeral, Notting Hill), the Tom Hanks/Meg Ryan decade bookenders (Sleepless in Seattle and the charming, underrated You’ve Got Mail), the postcard-perfect sojourns (Marisa Tomei in Only You, Meg Ryan in French Kiss), the ones with the high-concepts (It Could Happen to You, The Truth About Cats and Dogs, While You Were Sleeping) and anything starring Julia Roberts (who went from charming ingenue in Pretty Woman to backstabbing villain in My Best Friend’s Wedding). It was also a peak decade for gangster films (Goodfellas, Casino, Donnie Brasco, Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels) and while the first half of the 90s was a wasteland for the horror genre (save for Bernard Rose’s haunting Candyman), Wes Craven’s groundbreaking meta-shocker Scream kickstarted a slasher revolution in 1996. Then followed Scream 2, I Know What You Did Last Summer, The Faculty and Halloween H20, all helping to make scaring people profitable again, a rediscovery that has remained vital to the industry until now.

And if anything could justify the 90s as the best decade on record, it was the year of 1999 that provided us with one of the all-time great years. Take a deep breath: Magnolia, The Sixth Sense, The Matrix, Being John Malkovich, Three Kings, Fight Club, Eyes Wide Shut, The Iron Giant, Toy Story 2, The Talented Mr Ripley, Run Lola Run, The Blair Witch Project, The Thomas Crown Affair, Buena Vista Social Club, Drop Dead Gorgeous, Boys Don’t Cry, Beau Travail, Topsy-Turvy, The Straight Story, American Pie, Go, Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai, Office Space, Audition, Rushmore, Summer of Sam, Election and All About My Mother. It was a year like no other, and one that we haven’t come close to since.

There’s a reason 90s nostalgia has been inescapable of late, and why so many of the decade’s films are being rebooted or reworked. It was a time that found room for both the arthouse and the multiplex to shine, a game-changing period that’s worth revisiting without the need for irony.

What’s your favourite film decade? Let us know in the comments and we’ll publish a selection of your highlights