The Year’s Top Movies

It’s a new year, and that means reflecting on the best things I watched and read (or maybe listened to) from the previous year. We’ll start with movies and get to books next week.

As has been the theme the last five years, I didn’t get to see as many movies as I’d like on account of school—but, wouldn’t you know it, I graduated this summer, and so my film viewership saw a nice uptick in the latter months.

Below, I’ve listed my top movies that were released last year that I saw in theaters or streaming as well as my top movies from years previous that I happened to see last year. The latter list is always the better one, with better movies, but I guess the former is more relevant.

For the more recent movies, I’ve opted to list five, which I’ve done a couple times in the past but always because I simply hadn’t seen many movies that year (as in during Covid). This year, I saw well beyond ten in theaters, but it was the most mediocre bunch of movies imaginable—I’m not even particularly excited, as you’ll see, about the ones listed here. I suppose that’s the nice thing about Oscar season, though, is that it will tell me all the smaller budget movies I should have seen during the year. As for the older movies, the list definitely skews dude (maybe even film bro) and decidedly Asian this year. I blame it on my friend Tommy.

My Top Movies (from 2025):

5. Superman – There’s a lot to love about this Superman reboot. It leans into the legacy of the comics as well as its 1978 predecessor; it’s got color and humor, and it really wants us to see Superman as a paragon of virtue. Still, I never really got on board with this movie. I’ve tried to articulate exactly why elsewhere, but it’s hard to do so—precisely because the movie is consistently trying to do the right thing but is failing in the execution. The best I can do is say that it falls victim to the age-old problem of showing and not telling. Again, I generally like the movie. It has all of the right intentions, and that puts it leagues ahead of something like Man of Steel. It has memorable characters and at least one great action scene. All of that is definitely worth something. Also, the Justice Gang—far and away the best part of the movie.

4. Frankenstein – I’m happy this got made. I’m happy to Guillermo del Toro got to complete his passion project. I’m happy to get a thoughtful, big-budget movie about classic literature from an auteur director. I’m happy to see one of my favorite books on screen. But, again, I was never fully on board. For one, the movie feels glossed over, not just on account of the CGI but also in some of the casting choices (notably Elordi) and in the design of Frankenstein’s monster. It’s all too shiny and pretty. There are, of course, several examples of del Toro’s eye for the grotesque and tactile, but those are overwhelmed by the smooth aesthetic of modern Hollywood. In addition, the movie seems uneven. This is sometimes in its acting and presentation, fluctuating between theatrical bombast, modern naturalism, and historical accuracy, but is also present in its characters—like, I could never tell if Victor liked his brother or not. Even in aspects where I thought the movie excelled, such as in its grandeur and sense of scale, it dropped the ball in notable ways (namely the introduction of the monster). But here’s one unreserved praise I can bestow on the movie: its painterly and dramatic coloring make for some of the most beautiful frames in cinema this year.

3. Avatar: Fire and Ash – How does he keep doing it? I’m not saying this is as good as Titanic or Terminator 2—what could be? But somehow, despite my utter disinterest in this universe, Cameron cranks out another hit. Of course, it’s because no one understands drama or action filmmaking like him. There are spectacular action set pieces and real wrenching scenes, mostly between parents and children (and also of a mutilated whale), and the newest villain is perhaps my favorite character in the franchise. But of course I have some criticisms to make: (1) the dialogue is as clunky as can be (and most of the live-action acting seems more wooden than the avatars); (2) the movie is long and feels like it retreads certain beats over its runtime; and (3) the fact that I don’t care about this universe or remember its characters’ names does suggest to me that something is not right, even if it’s a good time while I’m in the theater.

2. Sinners – Creative and thoughtful and aesthetically warm, Sinners is a real cinematic treat for 2025. It’s a delight to watch Coogler wrestle with the vampiric tendencies of religion and how music contributes, resists, and transforms those tendencies. My only criticism: that we didn’t get to spend more time in the story. (In all seriousness, the back half of the movie is the most fun but also feels the most rushed.)

1. One Battle After Another – There are few things as terrifying as those with power yielding it corruptly, when there is no court of appeals, no recourse to be had. That pervading dread, the bumbling humor, the meticulous set-pieces all coalesce into one of Paul Thomas Anderson’s strongest films. This adds to a timely commentary of government overreach, lampooning radicals, and a message about familial bonds. It’s also a special treat to be watching a scene in theaters and to know—and to know that everyone in the theater knows—Oh, we’re watching what will be regarded as one of the great finales of movie history. My only problem with the movie was that in the beginning, I never really cared for the mother character, which meant the emotional finale didn’t do much for me. Oh well, no one’s perfect.

My Top Movies (from any year):

10. Killer (2023) – This movie works great as a by-the-numbers crime flick, and it should come as no surprise that no one could capture the meticulous work and problem-solving of contract killing and engross viewers with beautiful images like David Fincher and Michael Fassbender. But there’s a little bit more going on here, even if I’m not quite sure where Fincher wants to direct our attention. The movie seems to send-up 12-Rules-For-Life-esque gurus—people spouting advice that can’t follow-through themselves—our relation with a fast economy and gig work, as well as some sort of attack on emotionless efficiency.

9. Pulse (2001) – There are some exceptionally eerie images in this movie, and the motion design/choreography are perhaps unsung heroes. But the movie clearly wants to major in loneliness, even if it feels completely unearned—the characters seem all pretty well adjusted. Additionally, the story seems a tad more scattered than mysterious (compare to the director’s other work in Cure).

8. Infernal Affairs (2002) – This is the movie, for those unfamiliar, that Martin Scorsese’s The Departed was adapted from. While it’s not as thoughtful or tight as the American remake, it’s flashy and thrilling. It’s a good time.

7. Wings of Desire (1987) – Every individual minute is either aesthetically lovely or emotionally moving. In that way, it might be too much of a good thing, but it’s hard to deny its stature as a masterpiece. I’m also a sucker for fourth-wall breaking arthouse films.

6. Hunt for Red October (1990) – They don’t make them like they use to. There’re some clunky beats, to be sure, but the atmospherics in this movie are second to none. It almost makes me want to go watch more Tom Clancy film adaptations—but probably not.

5. Rushmore (1998) – There’s a lot to love in this movie, but if I had to summarize what I found most endearing: it’s that this movie continually zigs when you expect it to zag (including the multiple points where I thought we were drawing to a close). I may be giving into cliche critiques of Anderson if I suggest that his more recent efforts lack the human component found in his earlier work, but in any case, it is plain to see that his works like Rushmore and Royal Tenenbaums are masterpieces of empathetic filmmaking.

4. Manhattan (1979) – This is a weird one to include so high. To begin, let me acknowledge what I imagine is first on anyone’s mind who is at all familiar with Manhattan or simply aware of its director—which is that Woody Allen is a creep and that some of that behavior is foreshadowed in this movie, namely his relationship with a minor. A few things need to be said about this. First, some of the relevant scenes are, indeed, the most difficult to watch in the movie, even if you try performing the gymnastics of entering into the context in which the movie was made. Yet, that is to the movie’s credit because it is precisely the intent of the movie; it is meant to be difficult. That relationship is thematically important and wrestled with (albeit to an unsatisfactory extent) over the course of the movie, which is more than can be said for other films (like, say, Licorice Pizza). I’ll even go as far as to say that if the last five minutes were taken out, the movie would approach something like a thoughtful handling of the subject. A second, moralizing comment: the movie majors on themes of infidelity and adultery, divorce, and homosexuality, and it is notable that whatever one’s religious convictions on those topics, they are not treated with the same sensationalism when discussing this movie.

Stepping back to look at the movie more broadly, it is immediately obvious why it has historically been treated as a classic. I was stunned by the humanistic depth, genuine laugh-out-loud humor, and real elegance of this film. Seriously: I cannot understate how visually beautiful the movie is. For anyone who feels up to the task of wrestling with something as morally charged and disagreeable as this, it is well worth the challenge.

3. Oldboy (2003) – Playful and frenetic, Oldboy is a pure delight. One under appreciated merit, I imagine, is how satisfying its plot development is; having previously seen The Running Man remake, I am reminded of how difficult it is to unravel a mystery or deliver on an interesting premise.

2. Sword of Doom (1966) – So much here to love. Visual symbolism, beautiful cinematography (the ambush in the woods—my goodness), Tatsuya Nakadai’s facial acting, and stoic lines like: “These men were good swordsmen, now they die like dogs. How will you atone for this?” or “The sword is the soul. Study the soul to know the sword. Evil mind, evil sword.” I was admittedly dissatisfied with how the movie resolved its plot, but I can’t be too angry that in its place, it offered a perfectly impressionistic and hellish conclusion for its main character.

1. A Serious Man (2009) – This is as funny as any Coen Brothers film—that is to say, it’s very funny. It’s also profoundly symbolic and Lacanian in its simple message that life is beyond our control or comprehension. It is not lost on me that the Coens have been telling the same story across a number of genres, but it speaks either to the underlying truth of that story or to their unmatched skill as filmmaking artists—or both—that each return to that same story represents another visitation into movie greatness.