The Matrix
Everything about this damn movie — the trench coats, the sunglasses, the heady fight sequences, the soundtrack oscillating between acid house and nü-metal — makes it drip with sleek, cybergoth coolness.
God, I wish I could’ve been a 16-year-old seeing this in theaters in 1999 while dissociating from a hero’s dose of salvia that my friend’s older brother bought in the back room of a Waterbeds ‘n’ Stuff, but instead I was 7 and probably just snorting lines of Pixy Stix at the lunch table because my friend dared me to.