Top 10 Must-Watch Taiwanese Films of the Last Decade! This One Moved Countless Viewers to Tears: The Hardest Thing for a Family to Say Is Often the Most Painful

The past decade has seen Taiwan produce many unforgettable films. From weddings and LGBTQ+ families to mother-daughter relationships and midlife crises, to local political-business networks, wealth inequality, and White Terror, the stories on screen have increasingly mirrored real life in Taiwan. Some films make audiences laugh until they cry, while others leave viewers in prolonged silence. What truly moves people isn’t necessarily complex plots, but characters who reflect the parents, siblings, and life struggles familiar to all of us. Based on online reviews, here are the 10 must-watch Taiwanese films of the last decade, offering a renewed perspective on contemporary Taiwan’s families, history, and human connections.

10th Best Taiwanese Film of the Last Decade: 'Double Happiness' | A wedding celebrates joy, but the hardest part is healing the wounds left by parents

'Double Happiness' turns the familiar Taiwanese wedding into a family war on the verge of collapse. Liu Ting-sheng is about to marry his Hong Kong girlfriend, Wu Dai-xi, but due to his divorced parents refusing to see each other, he must arrange two separate wedding banquets on the same day at the same Grand Hotel. He runs between guests, ceremonies, and his parents’ emotions, ensuring the two sides never meet. On the surface, it’s a fast-paced wedding comedy, but the film truly tackles a shared reality for children of divorced families: even after parents separate, children spend a lifetime cleaning up their unresolved emotions. Through Ting-sheng’s wedding, he finally decides that his future family will be shaped by his own choices—not by continuing to play the role of a child pleasing his parents.

Many viewers initially laughed at 'Double Happiness,' but as they watched Ting-sheng rush between the two ceremonies, their laughter faded. Some said the real pain isn’t divorce itself, but the fact that children learn from a young age to read the room, relay messages, and hide truths to protect both sides. Even though Ting-sheng is now an adult about to start his own family, his parents’ old grudges follow him to the wedding, turning him back into the little boy afraid of being abandoned by either side. Yang Kuei-mei’s portrayal of the mother resonated deeply—she isn’t written as a pitiful mother waiting for forgiveness, but as a woman who spent half her life apologizing for her career and ambition, finally speaking for herself. Some viewers reflected that while a wedding symbolizes two people building a home, the real challenge is first stepping out from the wounds of one’s family of origin.

10th Best Taiwanese Film of the Last Decade: 'Double Happiness' (Image / via imdb)

9th Best Taiwanese Film of the Last Decade: 'Marry My Dead Body' | Laughing at a ghost marriage, only to cry at the love that was never spoken

'Marry My Dead Body' begins with Taiwan’s folk belief in 'picking up a red envelope to enter a ghost marriage.' Wu Ming-han, a homophobic and impulsive cop, accidentally becomes the ghost spouse of the deceased gay man Mao Pang-yu. Starting from mutual disdain, they investigate the truth behind Mao’s death while getting entangled in a drug case and police department intrigue. The film blends ghost marriage, temples, paper offerings, elders’ beliefs, and LGBTQ+ issues into a police comedy, using this absurd marriage to help Ming-han understand Mao’s love, family, and unfulfilled life. It also symbolizes a shift in recent Taiwanese commercial cinema—LGBTQ+ characters no longer appear only in tragic stories but now star in mainstream entertainment, becoming central to comedy, action, and family narratives.

Many viewers said the most powerful moment in 'Marry My Dead Body' was laughing at Greg Hsu’s forced ghost marriage and bickering with Mao, only to be suddenly struck by the father-son words left unsaid. Ming-han evolves from a prejudiced, homophobic straight man to someone willing to uncover Mao’s cause of death and fulfill his wishes. Many felt his real change wasn’t in attitude toward a ghost, but in his willingness to understand someone completely different from himself. Lin Bo-hong’s portrayal of Mao was praised for its vitality—he’s vain, affectionate, and quick-tempered, but what haunts him most is whether his father ever truly accepted him. Some said when Mao’s father finally acknowledges his son’s love, they realized Mao had waited a lifetime just to hear, 'Dad, I understand you.' The film stays lively until the end, but leaves behind a regret familiar to many families: though they love each other, they delay the most important words until it’s too late.

9th Best Taiwanese Film of the Last Decade: 'Marry My Dead Body' (Image / via imdb)

8th Best Taiwanese Film of the Last Decade: 'The Falls' | The pandemic trapped a mother and daughter, revealing the vulnerabilities families can’t speak of

'The Falls' is set in early pandemic Taiwan, depicting a single mother, Luo Pin-wen, and her daughter Wang Jing, confined for long periods in an apartment covered with blue tarpaulin due to home quarantine. Their already tense relationship worsens as Pin-wen’s emotions and behavior spiral out of control, and Xiao Jing realizes her mother has a mental illness. The mother, once the caregiver, suddenly becomes the one needing care, while the daughter is forced to grow up early, facing medical bills, work, mortgage payments, and living expenses. The film transforms the pandemic’s isolation and anxiety into a process of mother and daughter relearning how to live together, exposing the fear and helplessness many Taiwanese families feel when confronting mental illness: no one knows how to ask, and patients struggle to explain what they’re experiencing.

Many viewers were moved by Gwei Lun-mei’s portrayal of the mother. Once the strong adult who cared for her daughter and carried life’s burdens, she suddenly becomes someone who needs protection. Her loss of control and fear of burdening her child resonated with many who thought of aging or ill relatives. Some particularly liked the blue tarpaulin covering the apartment—like the home sinking underwater, mother and daughter live together, yet their voices struggle to reach each other’s hearts. Viewers also connected with the daughter’s plight—she wasn’t ready to grow up, yet had to face her mother’s hospitalization, mortgage, and living costs. Some said the film’s greatest kindness wasn’t curing mental illness, but letting mother and daughter realize they might both reach their limits, and it’s okay to admit they need help.

8th Best Taiwanese Film of the Last Decade: 'The Falls' (Image / via imdb)

7th Best Taiwanese Film of the Last Decade: 'Your Name Engraved Herein' | Only at the end do you realize love has no right answer

'Your Name Engraved Herein' begins with an insurance payout, forcing the deceased man’s wife Liu San-lian, son Song Cheng-hsi, and gay partner Ah Jie into each other’s lives. San-lian believes Ah Jie stole her husband and the money meant for her son, while the son, unable to endure his mother’s emotions, moves in with Ah Jie. All three believe they’re the most hurt and feel the others have no right to speak of love. As the story unfolds, they gradually see the tension Song Zheng-yuan faced between marriage, fatherhood, and his gay relationship. The film doesn’t rush to judge whether the wife or partner loved him more, but leaves the question to viewers: legally recognized family, shared life, or those left to bear grief—who truly counts as family?

Many viewers initially found San-lian loud and sharp, but couldn’t hate her by the end. Hsieh Ying-xuan portrayed a wife who was hidden from for years and denied even the chance to question, making her both comical and heartbreaking. Her desperate fight for insurance money and control over her son isn’t about winning, but proving her marriage wasn’t in vain. Ah Jie is equally painful—he walked with Song through his final days but couldn’t claim his identity at the funeral, with no rightful place to grieve. Many viewers said the title’s question, 'Who loved him first?' leads to the realization that no one needs to be judged as winner or loser—everyone left behind lost the one they loved most.

7th Best Taiwanese Film of the Last Decade: 'Your Name Engraved Herein' (Image / via imdb)

6th Best Taiwanese Film of the Last Decade: 'Tigertail' | Only in adulthood do you realize life didn’t turn out as you imagined

'Tigertail' focuses on four middle-aged high school classmates. Tian-zai wanted to make films but ended up producing political campaign ads and was pushed onto the election stage; Dian-feng works hard, marries, and has children but constantly doubts if he can give his family happiness; Guan-tou lives a repetitive life in a government office and, upon reuniting with his student-era crush, realizes his pure love has been distorted by reality; Bi-jie runs a paper craft shop with his grandmother, is shy and honest, and finally meets A-yue, who understands him. The four often gather to chat and drink, seemingly still the boys they once were, but reality has already pushed them in different directions. The film captures the shared struggles of middle-aged Taiwanese men: study hard, work, build a family, follow the path adults laid out—yet still end up with nothing to show for it.

Many viewers over 30 and 40 saw themselves in these four men. As youths, they dreamed together, believing one of them would succeed. Reaching middle age, they find some have lost passion to work, others don’t know how to be husbands despite marriage, and some have become the adults they once hated after entering politics. What saddened viewers most was Bi-jie—he was honest, filial, and finally found someone who loved him, but fate gave him little time. One wrote, 'When one classmate is gone, the others didn’t even have time to truly care.' Dian-feng’s line, 'I do everything seriously, but nothing turns out well,' struck many—it’s the life of many ordinary people: no laziness, no giving up, yet life still doesn’t become what they hoped.