Best Films I Watched This Year - 2025
I watched a lot of movies last year.
Fueled in part by my wife being deep in the grad school grind (Nurse Practitioner, thanks for asking), as well as the settling in of a bunch of habits, barely a day went by in which I didn't watch some film. I have to imagine part of it is a distraction from the insanity of the broader world in which I find myself. While I'm far removed from the direct effects of the white-grievance fueled regime in the US, it's had an indirect effect on my optimism and hope for a better future, which are low in the best of times. Movies offer another view of the world, a window inside of its workings and how it could work and how it should work. Social connection and engagement provides these effects better, of course. But when left to one's own devices, it's easy to be consumed by dread, which is why doomscrolling has become America's pastime.
To that end, between my home viewing and theater trips and a few festivals, I watched 540 feature films in 2025. As in previous years, new releases made up more the a third of that: 212 watches, across 185 distinct films. As that implies, I've been rewatching films more than ever before. For new releases, it's often to firm up my opinions before making my top ten, or even for my own gratification. But I've also endeavored to give old(er) movies another chance, or to investigate if they really were as bad (or good) as I recalled them being. It's been quite rewarding: who doesn't love the validation of your memory proving correct, or the joy of finding a new favorite that you'd previously dismissed?
Of those, here are my top twenty-five favorites (and five runners up)! They can be new or old, first time watches or familiar faves. I've been doing this for a few years now, starting on Letterboxd in 2021 and 2022, then moving to my blog in 2023 and 2024.
Let's get to it!
The List
This list is a bit more straightforward than the year end wrap-up list. It’s just a top 25, with five runners up. No need to go negative here: we’ve too much ground to cover! For each one, I link my Letterboxd (or full) review, and also put some thoughts here, too.
Note that most of those Letterboxd reviews include spoilers. I’ve marked all of them as such, so when you visit the link, you won’t be shown the review by default (although you can click a link to unhide it). I recommend ignoring them if you have any intention of watching the film.
Runners Up
Five films falling just outside the top 25. Not every film can make the cut, so there are some absolutely incredible films here. But I’ll only write a sentence or two, so I can focus on the ones which did get top honors.
30. Broadcast News (1987)
Incredibly funny, characters so well fleshed out and impeccably performed that they stand as unique yet recognizable, and some of the most compelling storytelling through of people being damn good at their jobs and working as a team. It's a romcom like no other, and it pains me to put it this low.
29. The Circle (2000)
I finally caught up with Iranian director Jafar Panahi's pre-ban movies, and they're as vivacious and fascinating as you might expect. The Circle is an anthology film depicting the experience of women under the regime, told in an incredibly fresh and energetic style, whose entertainment and warmth make the darkness that encroaches that much more palpable.
28. The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920)
I will forever be in awe of a film that retains its power and influence more than one-hundred years after its construction. The tale of a powerful man gone mad in the hunt to conquer death is timeless, the boldness of the production design is hard to overstate even after endless parodies and references, and the skillful use of shadows would not be equaled until the noirs of the 40s.
27. Strawberry Mansion (2021)
On a rewatch, the depth of its critique of the world in which we find ourselves struck me much more strongly, as it compliments both the crushing despondency of our protagonist, and the exuberance of stepping outside the cage of capitalism. Its aesthetic is wonderful, and its hybrid retrofuturistic tech is an absolute marvel.
26. The Wolf of Wall Street (2013)
Scorsese is a master at playing out the life of some loser in a kinetic and enthralling way that simultaneously shows you how they made it as far as they did while never losing site of the horrifying consequences of their actions on those around them. If you think this movie glorifies Jordan Belfort, then either you didn't pay attention, or you're telling on yourself.
Top 25
The cream of the crop! The bulk of them were released this century, but the effort I put into watching more pre-2000s movies resulted in three making the top ten, including my number one. Additionally, four of them are documentaries, which is surprising given how few I tend to watch. Although the share of non-English language films left something to be desired, as does its almost complete lack of queer films (Sorry, Baby has some queer characters, but that's mostly incidental). But despite the shortcomings of the list, I cannot recommend these films highly enough.
25. Eephus (2024)
The premise of Eephus is terminally boring on paper: watch some random schlubs play the last baseball game at a field about to be torn up to make way for a school. But director Carson Lund gets away with it because it's not about that. It's about the bonds they've formed over the years, about what it's meant to them, and about the myriad impacts of the unyielding march of time. And it's uproariously, naturalistically funny from start to finish.
24. Universal Language (2024)
There's a distinct magic underlying Matthew Rankin's feature debut, in which he mixes an unmistakable Wes Anderson influence with a yearning for the Winnipeg in which he grew up and a deep faith in people. Its humor and strangeness disarms you so thoroughly that you never see the gut punches coming until they're on top of you.
23. The Last Picture Show (1971)
I began the year with this heartbreaking film about the tragedy of allowing your life to slip into monotony, leaving you grasping for any shred of connection to a more hopeful time. Its gorgeous black and white photography emphasizes the bleakness of their town, adding to the gravity that prevents its residents from escaping to chase their dreams, or even to attain them within its walls. It's devastating, yes, but so well-observed that it pulls you in nonetheless.
22. Hale County, This Morning, This Evening (2018)
It's not at all surprising that the debut film of the man who directed Nickel Boys is comparably innovative and fresh. It's poetry in motion as he chronicles the lives of a few black families in Alabama through some of the most interesting and insightful framing you'll ever see in a documentary. Such a loose approach that never insists on any structure or formality gives it a special energy, especially when we casually hear RaMell Ross speaking to someone off camera while recording another. And the use of hand-written title cards to converse with the viewer and even make jokes is revelatory.
21. A Night of Knowing Nothing (2021)
Another minimalist, impressionistic doc about social issues from a director nominated for an Oscar in 2025. Payal Kapadia's debut blends one side of a secret correspondence between two college lovers with footage of the widespread university protests that were taking place concurrently, taking time to ensure every single word we hear and disturbing action we see from government thugs has time to sink in. What's most remarkable is how, by the end, we feel like we've experienced their little story, despite seeing none of it.
20. Casablanca (1942)
All that I could possibly say about this movie has been said before. For my money, what makes it is Bogart's performance, perfectly capturing both the man Rick is now and the man he once was, and the never-ending struggle in which they engage every time he's presented with a difficult situation.
19. No Other Land (2024)
It's truly mind-boggling that anyone could watch this film and still defend Israel's actions in Palestine. To watch a genocide in progress is stomach-turning and infuriating, especially as we witness the effect of giving the worst people permission to brutalize their neighbors. That so much terror was being carried out before the "escalation of tensions" gives me nightmares about how much worse it is now than then, and than we hear about.
18. Sorry, Baby (2025)
I already wrote about it in my 2025 wrap-up list, so I'll just say John Carroll Lynch's one-scene performance is astounding and hilarious, and makes me start bawling every time.
17. The Shawshank Redemption (1994)
A film the late Rob Reiner supposedly called "the best film Castle Rock has ever released", and it's not hard to see why. It takes its time, as patient as its characters, slowly building their personalities and relationships and their sense of slowly impending doom, until its core concern is that very passage of time, and how the world tends to leave behind those on the inside. It's powerful and sickening and ultimately deeply meaningful, eschewing or undermining all the tropes of movies about prison, especially in the early 90s.
16. Sing Sing (2024)
A24's frustrating release strategy for this film meant I only caught up with it at the beginning of the year, rendering it ineligible for my 2024 wrap-up. Which is a shame, because its emotional story was superbly performed by a cast largely made up of formerly incarcerated men who'd graduated from the acting program the film is about, and had me in tears for much of the film.
15. Sound of Falling (2025)
A beautiful meditation on the confines of gender roles across time. But this appeared in two of my festival wrap-ups and my year-end top ten, so read about it there!
14. Hamnet (2025)
I've been surprised by the reaction to this movie from some critics I respect. The exact ways they bounced off it are fascinating. But I loved it, so read about it on my year-end list!
13. High and Low (1963)
I'm woefully underseen on Kurosawa, and this just proves it. As with so many others, I watched his 1963 masterpiece in preparation for Spike Lee's new interpretation, and was absolutely floored by his ability to communicate so much through simple background details. The film feels so alive that you hardly notice the first half keeps you confined in a single room! And the second half does a wonderful job morphing into a police procedural while not shying away from the fallout from the first half. It's the kind of classic that continually earns that label, retaining its power into the modern day.
12. The Maltese Falcon (1941)
Speaking of eternal classics...
While presenting a compelling story of deceit and riches and intrigue and double (no, triple!) crosses and murder, all surrounding this object of questionable provenance, what we're really investigating is the darkness that lies within men's (and women's) souls. The use of shadows and contrast is absolutely stunning, and along with Citizen Kane, would go on to shape the look of every single noir in the 40s and 50s. It's fitting that the prop itself is the subject of similar confusion and men obsessed with status.
11. The Hustler (1961)
With the exception of Cars, I had never before seen a Paul Newman film. The Hustler was a perfect education in what makes him special. He so expertly wields his charm and energy throughout, dialing up and down his energy level with ease during his marathon matches with Minnesota Fats. Which are themselves spellbinding, owing in part due to the special effect of "Newman and Jackie Gleeson are damn fine billiards players". Even the middle, where the action slows down and meanders as he navigates life with Sarah (Piper Laurie) while trying to work his way back to a rematch, is compelling due to his aura and the nuanced character portraits that emerge.
10. Inside Llewyn Davis (2013)
Even after watching every Coen brothers movie over the past year, Inside Llewyn Davis remains my favorite. Something about it speaks so directly to my soul, even as Llewyn is a contemptible character in a lot of ways. The kindness he's shown while trying to make a name for himself as a solo act after the death of his musical partner contrasts directly with his arrogance and entitlement and impatience to ascend the mountain of greatness. His skill is undeniable, but it's proving to not be enough, a situation exacerbated by his unpleasant demeanor. Most of all, it's funny from start to finish. Small ways like Jean (Carey Mulligan) cursing him out on a park bench through gritted teeth, and big ones like everything involving Roland Turner (John Goodman).
9. Sinners (2025)
Despite coming out a full nine months ago, Sinners has never left the conversation. It was instantly embraced by the moviegoing public, and loved by critics. Essays on its meanings and influences became so common that claiming they're overthinking it emerged as a defense of the movie for some, who claimed they were intellectualizing what was really just a damn good time and a tight, satisfying story. The film moved people, in ways they didn't always understand, making it one of the small number I feel comfortable calling "a triumph". And the people were rewarded with a record shattering number of Academy Awards nominations (16!).
Director Ryan Coogler blends a wonderful, emotional period drama about community with a vampire story infused with music and a tale of the struggle of minority groups in America. It's funny, it's sexy, it's tense, and it's pitch perfect from start to finish. He even gives his discovery Miles Caton a chance to show off one more time for everyone who stuck around through the credits. Incredible.
See my year-end list for more.
8. The Conversation (1974)
Releasing between Francis Ford Coppola directing two of the best regarded films in history means The Conversation is sometimes overlooked. Not disregarded, per se, just not often talked about, or only mentioned in passing. Which is a damn shame. Tense from its first moments, a paranoid thriller with deep moral quandaries at its core and an electrifying performance from Gene Hackman as a quiet guy who wants nothing more than to be left alone, I was enraptured the entire time. It started to drag a bit at the end, only for Coppola to demonstrate his intentionality by an ever quickening ramp to a masterful, extended sequence of frenzy. Outstanding.
7. 28 Days Later (2002)
This was one of the first R-rated movies I saw in the theater, so it's always held a special place in my heart, despite never rewatching it. The famous scene of Frank (Brendan Gleeson) character looking up just in time for a drop of blood to doom him rattled around in my head since, as did the ending and general vibe. But this rewatch highlighted how much I'd forgotten, or just plain missed.
Re-releasing this film in theaters, shot on a consumer grade video camera in the early days of digital filmmaking, was bold. But it drove home the whole point; the imperfection of memories formed while trying to process a drastic change in your world, and the insane hyperreal images that come with hyperfocus. Director Danny Boyle captures the feeling of an empty London, and persists it even when the action moves to the country. That this is Cillian Murphy's film debut is insane; he's asked to shoulder so much of the burden, and he does so perfectly.
6. Oppenheimer (2023)
Two more watches in 2025 land Oppenheimer as my most seen movie in years, given my general tendency to pick unfamiliar films over comfort watches. Across each one, it's retained its power, while deepening my appreciation of each facet of the incredibly deep cast of characters, revealing new details each time. The most recent time, on New Years Eve, it occurred to me that the incident with the apple is an analogy for his journey over the rest of the film.
5. Soundtrack to a Coup d’Etat (2024)
Having previously been exposed to the collage films of artists like Rodney Ascher, Craig Baldwin, and Negativland, it didn't take long for me to dial into the energy and flow of Johan Grimonprez's essay on the involvement of the US in the Congo and its affairs in the 50s and 60s, culminating in the assassination of Lumumba and installation of Mobutu. Structuring not only around Kruschev's energetic speech to the UN condemning the hypocrisy of the US, but also the whitewashing of American geopolitical meddling through the "deployment" of jazz musicians, is a brilliant demonstration of the power of this form of visual art. Through this juxtaposition, Grimonprez captures the vibe of the many, chaotic world events of the time. The structure allows him to jump around, emphasizing the parallel execution of the threads, and building to a sustained fever pitch that could only ever end one way. It's as exhilarating as it is infuriating.
If you have the chance, I'd recommend following it up with Craig Baldwin's RocketKitKongoKit, his own thirty-minute collage film about the installation of Mobutu and much of what transpired afterwards.
4. One Battle After Another (2025)
Maybe the only film that's sparked more conversation and backlash than Sinners, PTA's latest entry was immediately (and rightly) hailed as a classic upon its release. It's easily one of the funniest films of the year, and introduced audiences to a young talent almost certain to light up the screen for years to come in Chase Infiniti. It's not perfect, and its nakedly political and racial commentary meant it was certain to whip up a firestorm. A number of those conversations and essays have been insightful in their own right, even serving (whether intentionally or not) to deepen the text.
It's officially the #1 film I watched last year. However, I got to rewatch another 2025 release in the first few days of 2026, which has replaced it.
3. Jaws (1975)
I will never cease to be floored by Jaws. Being called "the first blockbuster" inevitably means comparing it to modern blockbusters, which is laughable. The artistry and restraint and storytelling on display from start to finish is indicative of Spielberg's career to come. The patience gives us plenty of time to get worked up, and the colorful characters ensure we care at every moment, so we feel every failure and every death, because they feel it. Not to mention Clint's introduction is arguably the most iconic and best in the history of the art form.
2. Resurrection (2025)
I suspected that giving myself another chance to process Bi Gan's contemplative phantasmagoria of the senses would bring it to the top of my year-end list, and I was right. However, after catching it at a film festival in November, it didn't get a chance to see it again until the first weekend of the new year, after which I'd already set my ranking in amber. Oh well, at least Criterion already announced its release on Blu-ray.
It's such an overwhelming experience across so many dimensions, I found myself on the verge of tears multiple times, always in response to some moment of extreme beauty. The execution is stylish beyond belief, and its anthology format gives Gan a chance to stretch his legs across many subgenres. Across each one, the score provides a dream-like soundscape, mixing electronic music with classical riffs, resulting in an aesthetic like nothing else.
1. Princess Mononoke (1997)
The thing about being friends with a bunch of anime nerds is that it colors your perception of the art form. I'd hear about all the weirdest shows, and combined with the unfamiliar tropes and archetypes that filtered to me, I just didn't have any interest. The result was that I never sought out Hayao Miyazaki's work despite its towering reputation. So when his first new film in a decade played at my local theater, I was completely unprepared for how bowled over I was. The stunning animation, the sophisticated storytelling, the depth of emotion: all of it combined to land on that year's top ten list, despite going in with none of the reference points.
And yet, in the years since, I hadn't gotten around to watching any more. Then came the theatrical release of a Princess Mononoke restoration early last year, which had an even more profound effect on me. Despite the protagonists being children, the story is heavy and mature, and it doesn't shy away from brutality (both of people and of the natural order). The imagery is like nothing else, and the world that Miyazaki creates is endlessly compelling. The characters are simultaneously mysterious and relatable, despite the unrecognizable world they inhabit.
Maybe most striking is the movie's patience. As much as I love Western animation, it's frequently deployed as a genre for kids, so the energy is kept high at all times for fear of letting boredom creep in. When allowed to be art, that concern melts away, and you get slow, deliberate, gorgeous scenes that transport you to a fantastical place. Since seeing it ten months ago, I have not stopped thinking about the first appearance of the Forest Spirit, where the frame silently pans across a swamp to land on a sun-drenched break in the trees, where we watch deer casually walk across until the deity stops, slowly looks up, and holds eye contact with our protagonist. Magnificent.
I proceeded to watch all of Miyazaki's features over the next month or so, and although I love many of them, none surpassed Mononoke.