Much has been made about the dearth of strong female roles in contemporary cinema, and the problematic depictions of women in many recent movies, but the past two decades have provided plenty of counterexamples. While the onus is on writers and directors to craft strong female characters, the actresses themselves bring these figures to life, and they’re often the main reason we keep being drawn back to these works.

In no particular order, our favorite — and we’d like to think the best — female performances of the 21st century.

Isabelle Huppert, “Elle”

Paul Verhoeven’s “Elle” begins with a laugh that catches in your throat: A wide-eyed cat looks off-screen to the screams of a man and woman in apparent orgiastic bliss. Then comes the cutaway, which reveals a far more nefarious incident: Middle-aged Michéle (Isabelle Huppert), in the process of getting raped by a masked assailant on the floor of her home. Once he dashes out the door, Michéle simply lies there, gazing up at the ceiling, and it’s not clear if she’s traumatized or intrigued. So it goes for the rest of this tantalizing provocation of a movie, as Huppert once again proves she’s one of cinema’s greatest living performers with a gutsy role that finds her both horrified and titillated by her rapist. While not exactly a rape-revenge movie, Michéle gets the last laugh, and that’s largely due to Huppert’s commanding screen presence — not to mention her sheer willingness to go there. —Eric Kohn

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Uma Thurman, “Kill Bill”

Popular on Indiewire

Much has been made about the characters Quentin Tarantino dreams up, but his real gift is his deep appreciation of his favorite actors and his ability to create roles that unlock all the aspects of what makes them so cool on the big screen. With “Pulp Fiction,” he already revealed the badass that was lurking underneath Thurman’s authentic quirky demeanor, but the idea that she could actually kick some ass — and to the degree she does for the entire four hours of “Kill Bill Vol. 1 & 2” — was a complete revelation. Thurman retains all that makes her such a unique screen presence by playing a woman seeking bloody revenge for unspeakable horrors, while transforming into a martial arts expert in the process. Beyond the raw physical ability and willingness to undergo intense training to learn such a wide variety of fight moves, she brings a physical grace, humor, and an unreal sense of timing to create one of the greatest action heroes of all-time. —Chris O’Falt

Sandra Hüller, “Toni Erdmann“

Perhaps not the greatest performance of all, but almost close to it, Sandra Hüller’s full-bodied and full-hearted take on the delightfully uptight Ines manages to outshine even Peter Simonischek’s amusing performance as her wacky dad. The real joy in Maren Ade’s 2016 festival hit is how she takes seemingly bonkers concepts and flat-footed tropes — a man who essentially functions as a living, breathing “Dad Joke,” and the daughter who just doesn’t get it — and brings them to the screen with nothing but exuberance and heart. Hüller grounds it all from the start, gently unspooling the (understandably annoyed) Ines as the narrative gets more and more bonkers, the center of normalcy, the soul of the entire outing, until she too has no choice to bust loose and embrace her own brand of lunacy. Few films have offered up such eye-popping high notes, from the unexpected appearance of a Whitney Houston song to the most charming nude scene ever put to film, but Hüller makes sure that every single one stays true. —Kate Erbland

Paulina Garcia, “Gloria”

As the titular star of Sebastian Lelio’s moving character study, Paulina García delivers a mesmerizing embodiment of midlife frustrations. She’s a lonely, divorced woman at a crossroads in her life — until she discovers a romantic businessman poised to help her get her groove back. But appearances can be deceiving, and as Gloria receives a brutal reality check, García imbues the character with a mixture of sorrow and yearning that sets the stage for the galvanizing finale. One of the greatest modern roles for an older woman, it continues to serve as an inspiration and a challenge for the global film industry to write more of them. —EK

Jeon Do-yeon, “Secret Sunshine“

Lee Chang-dong movies abound in stellar performances — see also Yoon Jeong-hee in “Poetry” and Sol Kyung-gu and Moon So-ri in “Oasis” — but none is as devastating as Jeon Do-yeon is in “Secret Sunshine.” Her tear-streaked turn is grief embodied, and a reminder that the kind of tragedies you imagine only befalling other people can and will eventually befall you. Jeon was awarded Best Actress laurels at Cannes for her portrayal of a grieving widow who moves to her husband’s hometown with her young son in tow after the death of her other half; though intended as a kind of homecoming, the move results in even more hardship. Jeon ensures that we feel everything she does, which proves as cathartic as it is heartbreaking. “Secret Sunshine” was highly successful in South Korea, where Jeon remains a frequent onscreen presence — if only we were so lucky on this side of the globe. —Michael Nordine

Viola Davis, “Fences“

Paramount Pictures

Davis is one of the rare performers who sizzles on the screen no matter the role. For years, the actress made a career out of bringing intelligence and humanity to characters who were hiding in plain sight, which is why it’s such a joy to see her finally unleashed as the sexy, fearless lead in Shonda Rhimes’ “How To Get Away with Murder.” Yet the true defining role for Davis — pulling together all of her acting attributes and winning her an Oscar — was playing opposite Denzel Washington in “Fences.” Davis, as Rose, is the enduring strength holding together a family in which the men are plagued by the damaging combination of pride in the face of racism. While Rose is an endlessly supportive character, her role was anything but supporting (despite awards shenanigans that designated it as such). In her big scene, when she finally puts words to the emotions buried inside — leveling a fierce Washington to quivering silence — she grabs hold of the movie and never lets go. It’s a moment that was written for the stage (and, yes, Davis did that, too), but one in which Davis empties her seemingly endless tank and transforms the words into pure emotion on the big screen. –CO

Daniela Vega, “A Fantastic Woman”

There are few breakthrough performances for trans women in the history of cinema, which makes Daniela Vega’s heartbreaking performance in “A Fantastic Woman” an essential piece of film history: As with “Gloria,” Chilean director Sebastian Lelio delivers a mesmerizing portrait of defiant femininity, this time with Vega as a woman reeling from the death of her older male partner. While his family mostly rejects her, she maintains her independent spirit through a series of hardships while figuring out a way forward, single-handedly carrying the movie on her fierce gaze. The title does not lie: In “A Fantastic Woman,” Vega gives us just that in every scene. —EK

Naomi Watts, “Mulholland Drive”

There have been countless movies made about Hollywood dreams and its harsh realities, but never have both the starry-eyed and deep despair of Los Angeles been so perfectly rolled up into one performance like Naomi Watts’ breakout role in David Lynch’s masterpiece. In what might be considered two roles — the plot is impossible to completely piece together — Watts brings to life a wide-eyed Betty, who arrives to stay at her aunt’s only to get caught up in the mystery of an amnesiac (Laura Harring) hiding in the apartment. Of course, Watts would go on to become a big star, playing characters who are often strong, steady types (like outed CIA agent Valerie Plame in “Fair Game”), but as we’ve been recently reminded with her appearance in the new “Twin Peaks,” she can go deliciously big and unfiltered, demonstrating an incredible tonal range. She has an innate ability to adapt to Lynch’s unique cinematic world and land completely authentic moments of wonder, desire, and desperation. —CO

Ellen Burstyn, “Requiem for a Dream“

Every once in a while, an actor gives the kind of performance that transcends the craft and becomes so painstakingly authentic that it’s hard to distinguish between what’s performance and what’s real life. Ellen Burstyn in Darren Aronofsky’s “Requiem For a Dream” is one of those performances. As Sara Goldfarb, an image-obsessed mother who becomes addicted to weight-loss amphetamines, Burstyn takes on her character’s mania with such rawness and vulnerability that Sara’s self-destruction is often too sickening to stomach. The character’s mental deterioration is charted with agonizing detail and precision by Burstyn. The actress gets so lost in the character’s agitated ticks and frenzied hysteria that it becomes hard to tell where Burstyn ends and Sara begins. Watching “Requiem,” you begin to fear for Burstyn. Sara was no doubt a colossal acting challenge, and Burstyn took it on with the kind of commitment that leaves you shattered. —Zack Sharf

Laura Linney, “You Can Count On Me“

Kenneth Lonergan’s melancholic debut film galvanized viewers and critics with engaging dialogue and his unique ability to paint painfully human characters with the lightest touch and sharpest of wits. The prolific playwright knows the importance of smart actors, and his films attract the very best. As single mother Sammy, Laura Linney fills in the spaces Lonergan intentionally leaves with her own unique color and depth. You want to root for Sammy, who is just trying to get through life, but her almost pathetic sadsack nature makes it awfully hard. Nevertheless, there is something charming about her, and her sweet but fraught relationship with her brother, Terry (Mark Ruffalo). It’s hard to think of a better film about the unique and strange bond between adult siblings, the years of resentment and rivalry that build up, and the special familiarity no one else can offer. Linney is able to translate Sammy’s pain with a graceful dignity. “You Can Count On Me” announced her as one of the greatest actresses of her time. —Jude Dry

Emmanuelle Riva, “Amour”

Riva was a legend decades ago, when she helped turn “Hiroshima, Mon Amour” into a piece of film history. But she proved she lost none of her talent over the years with this whopper of a career-capping performance opposite Jean-Louis Trignant in Michael Haneke’s acclaimed drama. As a stroke victim whose husband goes to dire lengths to help her live out her final days, Riva manages to be both fragile and determined, a woman keen on remaining in charge of her behavior even as her mental and physical conditions decline. It’s a resilient turn that’s simultaneously tragic and empowering, the ultimate swan song for the rare performer capable of rebuilding her iconic stature from the ground up when most people wind down. —EK

Marion Cotillard, “La Vie En Rose”

The life of iconic French singer Édith Piaf could easily sag into hagiography or made-for-TV sentimentalism, but Cotillard elevates every scene. Her Oscar-winning performance follows the singer from her bumpy rise through the devastating losses that culminated with debilitating morphine addiction. No matter her hardships, Piaf delivers a transcendent power whenever she belts out another tune, and Cotillard injects each moment with an emotional depth that speaks to the nature of Piaf’s struggle. The actress hits every gorgeous note even as her eyes register as a cry for help. As her life starts to crumble, Piaf is a figure of pure feeling, and Cotillard communes with that tradition so well she may as well be performing a seance. Few musician biopics can approach this degree of raw intensity, and Cotillard is the main reason why. —EK

Scarlett Johansson, “Under the Skin”

Courtesy of A24

Talent is rarely enough to build and maintain a Hollywood acting career; the key is finding roles to showcase it. In the case of Scarlett Johansson, the turning point was more of a completely unexpected twist, a trio of non-human characters (“Her,” “Lucy,” and “Under the Skin”), each of which played off her icy allure, but were about the humanity buried underneath. The crown jewel of the three is her work in the Jonathan Glazer masterpiece that poses the question of what it means to be human through the eyes of Johansson’s seductive alien sent to earth to probe for answers. The actress’ cool air of detachment is essential to her appeal. Constantly implying that there’s an alien beneath her human disguise, Johansson’s eyes — which in previous roles always betrayed her as being somehow removed — become a window to a unique, complex soul. —CO

Charlize Theron, “Monster“

Whenever I think about “Monster,” which is probably more often that I should admit in public, I think about the bathroom scene where Aileen is quickly freshening up in the sink. For me, this is where Charlize Theron truly transforms into Wuornos. It isn’t just the shock of seeing the stunning and statuesque blonde’s body rippled with love handles and a beer gut. Compounded in that scene is the realization of hard living, of gas station bathroom baths, of dive bars and watery beer, and hitchhiking and hooking to fill in the unbearable moments in between a buzz and a hangover. Theron is unrecognizable not just because of prosthetic makeup or how she carries herself, but because we can actually feel Aileen’s desperation and rage. The sum of her stupendous, Oscar-winning performance is tallied up in small moment like that fleeting scene, where Theron doesn’t leave any room for doubt that she has fully and truly transformed into a monster. —Jamie Righetti

Kirsten Dunst, “Melancholia”

Lars Von Trier’s spellbinding drama-turned-apocalyptic fever dream is all about Kirsten Dunst’s disposition. As the movie begins, the fierce advertising executive quickly loses patience with her family over the course of a family party that goes very wrong. Then she’s back under very different circumstances — namely, the end of the world — but as she has already survived a gloomy personal experience, she’s more than ready to embrace the occasion. Dunst’s shifting mood over the course the film’s dazzling two hours is a masterclass in performative ambiguity, and in its extraordinary climax, she demolishes the depressing aura of the earlier scenes by demonstrating a kind of spiritual tranquility towards her inevitable demise. She won a well-deserved acting prize at the Cannes Film Festival for her performance (and deserved an Oscar that she didn’t get) for bringing fresh soulful depths to the work of a filmmaker better known for cynical extremes. She’s as much the auteur of “Melancholia” as he is. —EK

Brie Larson, “Short Term 12“

Cinedigm

It’s everything that she doesn’t say that makes Larson’s “Short Term 12” character Grace so enthralling, a do-gooder with a hard-won heart of gold that has secrets of her own to spare. Grace’s job caring for troubled kids as they attempt to make their entree into the world is tough enough, but as Destin Daniel Cretton’s breakout drama slowly reveals, it’s a task made even more difficult by Grace’s own past. That she’d want to stick around and help others is just one part of her appeal, and how it effects how she moves throughout the world, so gracefully portrayed, so sensitively rendered that it nearly hurts to watch, is another. Secrets are the stock and trade of “Short Term 12,” but Larson makes you feel as if you know it all, you’ve felt it all. —KE

“Monster’s Ball” may be largely remembered as the movie that handed the first (and so far only) best actress Oscar to a woman of color and gave Halle Berry the chance to give that famous speech. Sure. But the role itself isn’t too shabby, either. As Leticia, the widow of a convicted prisoner executed by Hank (Billy Bob Thornton), Berry plays a woman drawn to a destructive relationship by pure grief and loneliness. The dreary setting is elevated by the pair’s unusually erotic chemistry, and while Thornton’s reasonably involving as the sort of bitter introvert he can play in his sleep, it’s Berry who injects “Monster’s Ball” with the fiery intensity of a lost soul suddenly allowed to unleash her fury on a fresh companion. This unfiltered shot of emotional duress is the one of the most extreme expressions of anguish ever caught on film, and it’s hard to imagine Berry — or anyone else — coming close to it again. -EK

Leila Hatami, “A Separation”

Asghar Farhadi’s Iranian tale of feuding parents in the midst of a divorce and the impact on their child may have won the director a well-deserved Oscar, but Leila Hatami deserved one, too. She plays a woman keen on escaping the country’s oppressive laws by fleeing elsewhere, and when her husband won’t budge, she decides to move on anyway. The courts stand in her way — but that’s just the start of their problems, as a showdown with hired help takes a grim turn that complicates the family’s conundrums on a whole new level. Hatami gives the movie a commanding center as a determined woman keen on taking control of her surroundings even as they slowly close in on her. She exudes desperation but never takes it to histrionic extremes; much about the success of the performance extends from frustrated glances and baffled reactions as the court and other accusers continue to heap discomfort on her life. However, her resilience adds a transcendent dimension to the role on par with Farhadi’s nuanced script. She’s the key engine in the movie’s rage against the system. —EK

Anne Marsen, “Girl Walk // All Day”

Anne Marsen doesn’t say a single word in “Girl Walk // All Day,” but you don’t have to talk when you’ve got moves like this. Elevating a feature-length music video into an irrepressible work of art that completely eclipses the album it was made to accompany, Marsen delivers a dance performance that expresses more emotion in a moonwalk than most actors could convey in an entire Oscar monologue. Her role, “The Girl,” is never intended to be more than an archetype, but her sheer irrepressibleness makes the character feel unique. It’s not just that Marsen is a (very) talented dancer, but also that she’s absolutely fearless. Manhattan is her stage, and all of the people in it can’t help but become her audience — from midtown sidewalks to department store showrooms, she transforms every space she enters, electrifyingly tipping New York City’s unique balance between public and private spaces. We demand a sequel. —David Ehrlich

Quvenzhané Wallis, “Beasts of the Southern Wild”

Fox Searchlight Pictures

Benh Zeitlin’s magisterial directorial debut is an overwhelming spectacle of surreal images and sounds, but no matter its whimsical trajectory, it maintains an undercurrent of realism for one specific reason: Quvenzhané Wallis gives a groundbreaking performance as Hushpuppy, the six-year-old Souther Louisiana resident at the heart of a dreamlike movie that inhabits her perspective. Whether dashing through the bayou with fireworks or showing off her biceps in an amusing show of dominance, Hushpuppy is a commanding presence who confronts every new challenge with astonishing confidence. Wallis deservedly became the youngest Oscar nominee in history for her performance, and while nothing she’s done since has come close matching the sheer hypnotic power of her debut, she’s still got a long career ahead of her. It’s a helluva start. —EK

Catalina Saavedra, “The Maid”

Sebastian Silva’s pitch-black comedy debut is an awesome tale of domestic competition, with Saavedra at its center as a committed housemaid who resents the additional hired help her employers bring on when she starts suffering from dizzy spells. As the woman employs one tactic after another to scare off her new coworkers, the movie transforms into a “Home Alone”-like commentary on the repressed anarchy festering beneath of the surface of the suburban dream. Saavedra brings a brilliant slow-burn quality to the story, with her judgmental stare at once menacing and serving as a key punchline as the mayhem builds up. She delivers an anti-hero for the ages. —EK

Juliette Binoche, “Certified Copy“

One of the most consistently incredible things about the films of Abbas Kiarostami is how the late Iranian master could mine bottomless lodes of emotion from self-reflexive premises that seemed to prioritize the mind over the heart. In truth, the only thing separating the two is your neck, and Kiarostami had a rare knack for knowing which actors could empower an audience to feel a story in two places at once. An astonishing puzzlebox of a movie that refracts the plot of “Before Sunrise” through the prismatic layers of “Last Year at Marienbad,” “Certified Copy” begins as a brilliant — and purely intellectual — treatise on authenticity and the performative nature of relationships. But Juliette Binoche, playing an unnamed woman who sits in on a book talk and then strikes up a conversation with its author, forces the film into more ineffably human territory. Is she really just meeting the man for the first time, or are they husband and wife? The answer is irrelevant, but Binoche makes the mystery utterly irresistible all the same, her face as moving and inscrutable as the “Mona Lisa.” Is her character in love, or is she just really good at faking it? Either way, it’s the performance of a lifetime. —DE

Kim Hya-ja, “Mother“

From her dance in that field to her impassioned defense of her son, Kim Hye-ja’s character in “Mother” more than earns the title of matriarch. Bong Joon-ho’s follow-up to “The Host” isn’t a monster movie, but there’s a primal ferocity to its heroine that ensures no one — whether detective, suspect, or otherwise — dares cross her. Bong’s best film functions as both a murder mystery and an incisive look at strained family dynamics, with Kim commanding as much attention from the viewer as she does from everyone else onscreen. She never got near the Oscars, of course, but her fiery performance did land her a Best Actress win from the Los Angeles Film Critics Association. —MN

Natalie Portman, “Jackie“

Pablo Larraín’s “Jackie” is extraordinary filmmaking by every metric, but absolutely none of it would work without Natalie Portman’s riveting performance as the former First Lady during the worst time in her tragic life, writ large for all to see. As Jackie Kennedy, Portman is operating on a wholly different level than we’ve seen her before, and that’s saying something for an actress who always seems to be giving it her all. She’s riveting, transformed, and utterly without fear. And the accent? Stop, it’s perfect. —KE

Björk, “Dancer in the Dark”

The purest and most feral of Lars von Trier’s “holy women,” Selma isn’t a complicated figure. On the contrary, this increasingly blind single mother is something of a magical idiot, graced with a childlike simplicity that allows her to zone out of her depressing factory job and daydream that her life is a musical. The worse things get, the more she disappears into her delusions, eventually singing her way to the gallows after she’s convicted of a crime she was forced to commit. It’s the rare character who could truly only be played by one person, and von Trier found her. Leaning into the role like a woman possessed (which is pretty much the way Björk does everything), our planet’s foremost swanstress mines every inch of the hyper-violent precociousness that has always defined her music. She’s an absolute force of nature, her Selma hard to believe but impossible to deny — it’s the kind of openhearted performance that recalls Maria Falconetti’s immortal turn in “The Passion of Joan of Arc,” but in widescreen and with the volume cranked up to 11. It’s also still the only movie performance that Björk has ever given, but sometimes one is enough. See her in “Dancer in the Dark” and it feels like you really have seen it all. —DE

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