Rankings and Lists - Reel Opinion by Eric Zimmerman

“Disclosure Day” Review – Spielberg Expertly Directs a Weak Script

Disclosure Day Poster Steven Spielberg movie 2026

“Disclosure Day” returns mastermind Steven Spielberg to the science fiction genre, once again exploring how the world may react to the revelation of extraterrestrial life. This film follows weather reporter Margaret Fairchild (Emily Blunt), upon whom aliens bestow psychic abilities, and whistleblower Daniel Kellner (Josh O’Connor) as they race to disclose the longtime presence of aliens on Earth while the government-adjacent Wardex organization attempts to stop them.

First, let’s address the cinematic giant in the room. Spielberg is my absolute favorite director. All too often, cynics deem him an exclusively sentimental filmmaker without much depth, yet when you actually examine his stellar body of work you find some of the most intellectually stimulating films ever crafted. Of course, “Schindler’s List” and “Saving Private Ryan” are frequently in the conversation as “exceptions” to that erroneous rule (though Terry Gilliam would ignorantly disagree), but Spielberg’s depth goes beyond those movies. From the 9/11 metaphor that is “War of the Worlds” to the dissection of hopeless violence that is “Munich” to the heartbreaking examination of love, apathy, and the human condition that is “A.I. Artificial Intelligence,” Spielberg has continuously pushed the boundaries. Seriously, A.I. is one of the finest films ever made. And his warmer, more populist work such as “Jaws,” “E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial,” “Jurassic Park,” and “Catch Me If You Can” all balance optimistic wonderment with the overarching challenge of human connection. All of this is to say, yes, the Spielberg schmaltz is undoubtedly a prominent element of his films, but beneath that lies immense emotional and often philosophical complexity.

Given that admittedly excessive love letter, evidently I went in yearning for “Disclosure Day” to be excellent. Yet when I read “written by David Koepp” in the promotion materials, I grew nervous. The man was great in the 1990s and early 2000’s, having written “Jurassic Park” and “Spider-Man,” but his writing skill has significantly declined since then, relying on plot contrivances rather than intelligent character-focused storytelling. Unfortunately, my fears were confirmed with “Disclosure Day,” which may be the most well directed execution of a poor screenplay I have ever witnessed.

Disclosure Day Steven Spielberg Emily Blunt Josh O'Connor Car Chase Train Scene

Most everything to love about “Disclosure Day” originates from Spielberg. While this is far from his best film of the last 20 years, it is his most brilliantly directed. In fact, this may be the most skillfully directed movie since Denis Villeneuve’s “Dune: Part Two.” Spielberg’s signature long takes, meticulous blocking, and dynamic camerawork are on full display here. The action sequences showcase remarkably fluid camera movement, particularly during a car chase in which the camera tracks backward as a vehicle crashes through a house—twice. It amazes me how effortless Spielberg makes this all seem. You certainly notice the camera but never enough to distance you from the story. Spielberg just knows how to create the optimal audience experience.

Overall the film is impeccably paced with supreme entertainment value. Cleverly utilizing a chase structure, the movie ignites from the very first frame and never stops moving. The performances are another highlight, with Emily Blunt giving her finest dramatic work since 2015’s “Sicario.” Spielberg demands a considerable amount of physically and emotionally draining tasks from her, acting as the heart of the film. She can be hilarious in one scene, an action star in the next, and heartbreaking in the last.

Yet as hard as he may have tried, Spielberg could not outrun Koepp’s sloppy storytelling. The first half of the film is generally absent of writing issues due to its dominant action-focus, but once the plot-oriented second half begins, the film nosedives. The characters make decisions that feel so out-of-place given the traits they were established as having early on, and the villains become progressively more incompetent and eventually cease to feel threatening. There are so many times when they should have been able to capture our heroes but fail for the most absurd reasons, most notably at one point when Daniel hides behind a rock 5 feet away from the villains yet they somehow cannot spot him. The film is full of unbelievable conveniences that progressively dilute the stakes Spielberg attempts to maintain.

Steven Spielberg Disclosure Day Emily Blunt Josh O'Connor 2026 Movie Film

“Disclosure Day” poses questions about present-day international conflicts and the nature of religion in the face of the supernatural, but never truly explores them. A character raises an issue for 30 seconds before the film simply moves on. If you are not going to thoroughly analyze the ideas you propose, do not bother proposing them in the first place, as they simply become disposable afterthoughts. Without providing spoilers — though sadly this film has almost nothing to spoil in it — the ending makes a bold decision that would be clever and discussion-provoking if the film had actually explored the themes prior, but because it did not, the ending feels cheap and irritating. I admire films which spur debate and utilize ambiguity, but that only succeeds if the movie has a solid foundation that invites a plethora of discussion. “Disclosure Day” lacks that foundation.

There is a great film hiding somewhere beneath the existing “Disclosure Day.” The skillful direction is certainly there; it feels like it was directed with the energy of a 25-year-old, not a 79-year-old veteran. Yet the screenplay is so contrived, so empty, so frustrating that one cannot help but feel underwhelmed. This is a Steven Spielberg film. We should be leaving the theater giddy with excitement and discussing the high concepts for hours on end. “Disclosure Day” certainly delivers the entertainment value we expect, but none of the heart or wonderment that only Spielberg can achieve.

B-

Cannes 2026 Recap #1: Hope, Minotaur, Iron Boy

After years of immense admiration for the Cannes Film Festival, which premiered such masterpieces as “Taxi Driver,” “Pulp Fiction,” “4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days,” and “Anora,” I attended the world’s most prestigious film fest for the first time this year! I saw 9 films over the 4 days I was there. This post is one within a series of three Cannes 2026 Recaps, each reviewing 3 films. The following covers “Hope,” “Minotaur,” and “Iron Boy.”

Hope (Na Hong-Jin, South Korea – In Competition)

Hope Cannes Film Festival 2026 Na Hong-Jin

The first and possibly worst film I saw at Cannes, Na Hong-Jin’s sci-fi monster flick owes more to Roland Emmerich and Michael Bay than to Steven Spielberg and James Cameron. This is a soulless, bland, and meandering enterprise that beats you into a coma with its redundancy.

The film makes no attempt to craft developed, three-dimensional characters and instead prioritizes spectacle and environment. This would be fine if the action was well executed, but alas, it is borderline catastrophic. Na Hong-Jin structures each action sequence to be completely identical, following the same boring formula: the bland protagonists run away from the monsters while shooting AR-15s, before being slapped, flung into the air, and slammed back down to the ground, only to immediately spring back up, barely dazed, as if they merely tripped on some Legos. The characters seem to have infinite HP, moving far beyond 90s video game logic into ridiculous territory neither Michael Bay nor Roger dared tread toward.

Without getting into spoilers — not that there’s anything to spoil except for the final two minutes — the film’s absurdity moves beyond the asinine set pieces. The police force in the film appears to have an arsenal equivalent to a small military, utilizing not only assault weapons but actual rocket launchers and cop cars featuring engines designed by Dominic Toretto. For whatever reason, they never call in the actual military, and somehow the South Korean government appears completely ignorant of the situation.

“Hope” also completely falters narratively. The first 45 minutes are an initially promising yet ultimately boring action sequence that other critics have erroneously and heinously referred to as reminiscent of “Mad Max: Fury Road,” when it’s anything but. The middle hour+ is boring, lifeless exposition and poorly scripted dialogue scenes that barely advance the plot, taking 90 minutes to accomplish what could have taken 15 minutes at most. The third hour is another boring action sequence that copy/pastes the first. Essentially, you’re numbed by the end of the first act, falling asleep during the second act, and fighting to stay awake during the third act. The best action films pepper great and vastly differentiated set pieces all throughout.

“Hope” is not simply one of the worst films of Cannes, but one of the worst of the year. A truly terrible monster movie unworthy of its placement into competition.

Minotaur (Andrey Zvyagintsev, Latvia – In Competition)

Minotaur Cannes Film Festival 2026 Andrey Zvyagintsev

Taking a complete 180° turn to my favorite film of this year’s Cannes, “Minotaur” is an astonishing feat of suspense, relationship drama, and political commentary. Set in 2022 Russia with the Russia-Ukraine War literally hovering over citizens’ heads in the form of enlistment billboards, the film follows Gleb, an oligarchic CEO of an unnamed company. The same time as the government tasks him with listing fourteen of his employees to be drafted into the military, Gleb begins to suspect his wife of having an affair. What follows is an edge-of-your-seat political thriller, and by far the best film I have seen so far this year. Director Andrey Zvyagintsev constructs an atypical but brilliant narrative structure. It begins as a Tarkovsky-esque slow burn, with seemingly mundane scenes of family interactions intercut with likewise subdued moments in Gleb’s office space. While the parallel plot lines at first seem irrelevant to each other, the middle of the film takes a wild turn, which not only ties the two storylines together, but lands an explosive piece of political commentary. Much like Todd Field’s “TÁR” — what I believe to be the greatest film of the decade — “Minotaur” layers so many intricate details for the audience to slowly piece together as it reaches the crescendo of a finale. The film takes a simple story about the breakdown of an upper class marriage and uses it to dissect the corruption and spinelessness of the Russian government, as well as to portray the apathy of Russian civilians forced into a war they did not choose. The seamless combination of intimate, small scale character work with enormous political themes floored me.

Zvyagintsev brings such a precise, deliberate eye to his minimalist direction. Like many Eastern European filmmakers, he utilizes long takes and medium shots to eliminate any manipulative filmmaking techniques like close-ups, in favor of immersing the audience into the unbroken discussions between characters. Each shot has wonderful intention behind it, whether it be the slow panning around a room to visually provide exposition on a character’s background, or thoroughly choreographed blocking of characters to illustrate the emotional disconnect between them. His greatest piece of direction, as well as the film’s best scene, is the extended Hitchcockian sequence in the middle of the movie, photographed and performed with nail-biting horror while maintaining the minimalist visuals.

As soon as the credits rolled in the theater, I whispered, “That was f***ing excellent.” This will certainly feature on my Top 10 of 2026 list by December, at which time I will still be unraveling the film’s moral mysteries. Such labyrinthian, thematically rich, and consistently engaging storytelling is exactly what I want to see at The Movies.

Iron Boy (Louis Clichy, France – Un Certain Regard)

Iron Boy Le Corset Cannes Film Festival 2026 Louis Clichy

“Iron Boy,” on its surface, appears quite typical and unremarkable. It follows a young French farm-boy who, after being diagnosed with a major spinal misalignment, must wear an iron back brace that imposes significant difficulties on his life at school and home. We’ve seen this type of film hundreds of times before. Yet the execution, across all levels of filmmaking, is so warm and deeply human that one cannot help but fall for the charming narrative. The animation has this wonderful watercolor style that adds a nostalgic, childlike sensibility across the entire film. Our lead character is so sweet and effortless to root for, as life strikes him with tragedy after tragedy and he triumphs over it all. The movie leaves you with a skip in your step, reminiscent of 1980s family films. “Iron Boy” certainly will not blow anyone away, but I always welcome an uplifting tale which both children and adults can enjoy.

B+

“In a Lonely Place” – Classic Film Reviews #34

“In a Lonely Place” is a 1950 noir directed by dramatist Nicholas Ray and starring Humphrey Bogart as Dixon Steele, a screenwriter prone to enraged outbursts. One night he invites a woman over to his home. The morning after she is discovered murdered, though he claims not to have committed it. As police investigate his activities, he meets and falls in love with his beautiful neighbor Laurel Gray (Gloria Grahame), who vows for his innocence as his alibi. However, as their love progresses, Laurel recognizes Dixon’s unhinged nature and begins to regret their relationship.

Alongside John Ford and Howard Hawks, Nicholas Ray has a reputation as one of Classic Hollywood’s few auteurs by the critical community, particularly the Cahiers du Cinéma filmmaker-critics of the 1950s/60s. They espouse his films, such as “Bigger Than Life” and “Rebel Without a Cause,” pushed boundaries at the time of the Hollywood Code that restricted mature content, by exploring tormented characters. Ray lets intense moments breathe more than other directors of his era, namely this film’s best scene when Dixon monologues about a fictional murder to his friend. The camera slowly dollies into Bogart’s hauntingly calm delivery, with less manipulative music than most other noirs of the era (though admittedly still excessive for my taste). Bogart excels here, giving his second-greatest performance after his turn in “The Treasure of the Sierra Madre.” His oscillating mannerisms between collected and agitated create a perpetual unease surrounding Steele, one that isn’t quite provided by the script. “In a Lonely Place” lives and dies around Bogart, and it’s all the better for it.

Ray clearly emphasized character work over noir aesthetics. The film isn’t nearly as harshly lit as the genre often demanded, instead emphasizing performance over visual expression. However, Ray remains too restrained by the Code. It’s abundantly evident that he wants more visceral violence in Steele’s outbursts and even darker self-reflection, but simply can’t push through. While Steele is certainly more unstable than most characters of the era, he remains too tight and watered down. In excessively simplistic terms, the character work is strong, but not that strong.

I also found the second act quite meandering, with too little story to fill its runtime. I think a brisk 90-minute structure would actually call greater attention to Steele’s inner turmoil. As is, the outbursts seem too spread out to efficiently accentuate his dangerous nature. While the film insists he’s a lost soul, he generally feels more like a reserved man with poor temperament, at least during that middle section.

Ultimately, I think the film’s wild acclaim comes more out of respect for Ray’s efforts than the final product itself. True, it’s certainly more defiant as a drama than most films of the era, but it remains too constrained in its maturity. Nevertheless, while the film never quite coalesces into a true classic for me, its significance in film history is unquestionable.

All Paul Thomas Anderson Movies Ranked

With the wild acclaim of “One Battle After Another,” the brilliant filmmaker Paul Thomas Anderson is on every cinephile’s mind. Here’s my ranking of his stellar filmography.

10. Inherent Vice

This is the only Paul Thomas Anderson film I’m negative on. The last of Anderson’s films shot by the magnificent Robert Elswit, “Inherent Vice” excels as a dreamlike visual malaise. From the opening shot and warm narration, Anderson and Elswit instantly make the audience adore 1970s Los Angeles as much as they do. There’s also some hilarious ’80s-style raunchy comedy here, expertly delivered by Joaquin Phoenix and especially Hong Chau in a brilliant cameo. Yet the film fails to coalesce into a powerful whole. The story is deliberately confusing and that filmmaking methodology never works for me. I find none of the characters or the central mystery all that engaging. Its excessive runtime and befuddling plot hinder any rewatchability. Ultimately “Inherent Vice” feels borderline insignificant in comparison to the rest of Anderson’s filmography.

9. Hard Eight (AKA Sydney)

“Hard Eight” is a quintessential debut film, a training ground for later masterpieces. It’s well made, has a few great scenes, and a mind-blowing third act revelation, but it very much feels like a director getting their feet wet. Like “Inherent Vice,” this film feels somewhat unremarkable. The formulaic structure makes it difficult to discuss the film beyond the simple phrase, “it’s fine.”

8. The Master

This is perhaps Paul Thomas Anderson’s most divisive work, and for good reason. On a technical level, it’s truly masterful. That boat shot (pictured above) is one of the greatest images in cinematic history. Joaquin Phoenix and Philip Seymour Hoffman deliver their career-best performances, playing two profoundly manipulative characters who are both deranged in their own unique ways, implied to be a result of postwar experiences. The processing exchange between the two of them, held in one long over-the-shoulder shot on Joaquin Phoenix’s seemingly exploding face, is some of the greatest performing you’ll ever see. However, the film is also deeply pretentious, almost deliberately messy, and sluggish throughout the second half. Anderson’s script is completely aimless and none of the characters face any real development that would justify the lack of story, so ultimately you’re left dangling on the thread of wonderful performances and camerawork. I think the film is a lot less profound than many proclaim it to be, and whatever themes it may contain fail to be elucidated.

7. One Battle After Another

On a technical level, “One Battle After Another” is immaculate. The VistaVision cinematography makes every frame a canvas, with boisterous color as expressive as the technicolor epics of the 1950s. None of this is to say every frame is a painting; on the contrary, much of the film is simply subtle close-ups and medium shots. What’s truly impressive is how Anderson always knows precisely when to use simplistic, story-serving images and enormous, breathtaking vistas to complement the propulsion. Speaking of which, this is one of the most well-edited blockbusters in recent years. This thing just moves from scene to scene, shot to shot, frame to frame. This is all to say: the movie’s a ton of fun.

However, when you remove the entertainment factor, “One Battle After Another” is deeply problematic. This is not a left-wing or right-wing issue, it is an issue of positively portraying violence. I simply cannot get behind Anderson’s choice to sympathize with domestic terrorists, no matter the side of the political spectrum. Obviously the fascist, racist military depicted in the film is despicable, but what about the several scenes of the supposed protagonists blowing up buildings and shooting innocent civilians? So while I found the film to be immensely fun, I cannot ignore my moral quams.

6. Magnolia

Anderson wanted to combine the Hollywood Epic with the Hollywood Melodrama in this three-hour behemoth and, despite several false notes, he generally pulls it off. Films with massive ensembles and parallel stories often fall into the trap of one story or one character being far less interesting than another, but impressively Anderson writes all of them to be equally fascinating. There’s so much soul, tragedy, and empathy within each, and this great humanity ties the film together beautifully, alongside meticulous editing that maintains perpetual momentum. The film never feels boring, which is another impressive feat. However, I do think the constant breakdowns and monologues and revelations become monotonous, and when literally every character is crying, each subsequent tear loses significance.

5. Licorice Pizza

Paul Thomas Anderson’s most whimsical picture, “Licorice Pizza” may not be as epic or historic as many of his other films, but it’s one of his most fun. This is an earned romance with clearly drawn leads and some of Anderson’s finest dialogue. The conversations simultaneously feel so organic and deliberately rhythmic. Alongside the dialogue, the joyous backdrop of the 1970s San Fernando Valley dear to Anderson brings so much intimacy and soul to an already wholesome story. Plus, the backwards-moving truck sequence is perhaps the most suspenseful filmmaking of Anderson’s career. The plot sometimes meanders and there’s an excessive reliance on vibe over story, but ultimately this is such a warm movie that’s always a blast to immerse oneself in.

4. Boogie Nights

It’s odd to have “Boogie Nights,” an unmitigated classic, at the number four slot, but when you’re discussing one of cinema’s greatest artists, the top spots are extraordinarily competitive. At just 27 years old Anderson demonstrated instant mastery at his craft. Though he borrows a little too much from Martin Scorsese and Robert Altman, his technical direction is absolutely astounding; the long takes give the film a wonderful energy, perfectly placed at moments of character struggle or nail-biting tension. Yes, the opening oner through the nightclub is quite impressive, but the camera holding on Julianne Moore during Amber Waves’ custody litigation and the 40-second close-up of Mark Wahlberg’s Dirk Diggler at the drug dealer’s house are even more stunning. Anderson likewise established himself as one of the great actors’ directors, with Moore, Wahlberg, Burt Reynolds, and Heather Graham all delivering the most layered performances of their careers.

Anderson brilliantly builds this sprawling world of 1970s/80s Hollywood pornography with a wild cast of characters and a thoroughly fleshed out exploration of the inner-workings of the industry, as well as the damage it levies upon those who enter it. Though the environment is initially exciting to dive into, as the film progresses we see just how destructive and vile the industry really is. There’s impeccable tonal juggling here, shifting from screwball comedy to dour tragedy. Plus, perhaps no film has as many pitch-perfect character names: Dirk Diggler, Jack Horner, Amber Waves, Reed Rothchild, Buck Swope, Rollergirl, Little Bill. Just astounding creativity across the board. What holds this film back for me is the ending: I’ve never liked the final few minutes. The resolution for Dirk’s character seems too easy, as if Anderson didn’t quite know how to complete the character arc and just decided to place him back where he was at the one-hour mark.

3. Phantom Thread

Anderson’s arthouse and character-driven sensibilities collide to craft one of the most elegant and addicting films ever made. This may be Anderson’s most visually breathtaking movie, with each shot having the right balance of gloss and deep, flourishing color. It also contains his best dialogue, by far. Every scene contains at least one all-time quotable line, each sharp as a squirt of lemon juice in the eye as Daniel Day-Lewis’ Reynolds Woodcock complains about the world around him failing to meet his obsessive compulsive expectations of perfection. “Chic? Whoever invented that ought to be spanked in public!” “Right now, I’m admiring my own gallantry at eating it the way you’ve prepared it.” “The tea is leaving. The interruption is staying right here with me.” I can spitfire these for a whole page. The constant visual splendor mixed with hilariously vicious arguments make for a tremendous thrill ride that one wouldn’t traditionally expect out of a “dress” movie. Perhaps that’s because the film is about poisonous relationships and asparagus rather than fashion.

2. There Will Be Blood

Daniel Day-Lewis delivers the single greatest performance in cinematic history as psychopathic oilman Daniel Plainview. While “There Will Be Blood” is not my favorite PTA, there’s no denying that it’s his signature film. This is the Paul Thomas Anderson picture. And for good reason: it’s the finest American epic of the 21st century, a reminder of the brilliant grand scale character dissections of the 1970s. “There Will Be Blood” is one of those very few films that are truly iconic staples in cinema history. Its exploration of capitalism eclipsing religion as the driving force of America, Biblical and Shakespearean betrayals, and astounding set pieces exemplify filmmaking at its finest. Normally a film this significant would take the top spot on any other director’s list, but Anderson has one movie that I feel is even more powerful.

1. Punch-Drunk Love

My third-favorite film of all time, the surrealist “Punch-Drunk Love” is Paul Thomas Anderson’s finest work. Adam Sandler stars as Barry Egan, a depressed businessman desperately afraid of interpersonal interactions. When Barry meets Lena Leonard (Emily Watson), he finally experiences love and gains confidence. “Punch-Drunk Love” equates anger and intimacy, adding danger to sensuality while also being oddly heartwarming. Sandler is absolutely brilliant in his subtle and career-best performance of a man so lonely that he’s become an inactive volcano, meek and timid but boiling with rage. He subtly expresses so much repression, so much pain, so much self-loathing with a mere twist of his head or jolt of his hand. Anderson’s direction is some of the best work I’ve ever seen, using sonic and visual devices to externalize Barry’s emotions onto the screen. Sonically, Jon Brion’s electronic beeping score could not be more anxiety-inducing, acting as Barry’s internal monologue whenever stressed, whereas the use of the song “He Needs Me” externalizes Barry’s happiness when feeling comforted by Lena. Visually, “Punch-Drunk Love” utilizes color better than possibly any other film. The consistent contrast between blue and red portrays the battle between loneliness and companionship in every frame. As Brion’s score, Anderson’s deliberate aesthetics, and Sandler’s Oscar-worthy performance collide, “Punch-Drunk Love” delivers an immaculate exploration of the human need for love.

Top 10 Best Movies of 2025

With 2025 now at a close, it’s time to rank my favorite films of the year. Here’s the top ten, along with five honorable mentions.

Honorable Mentions:

Anemone
The Fantastic Four: First Steps
Marty Supreme
One Battle After Another
Thunderbolts*

10. Left-Handed Girl

Director Shih-Ching Tsou, longtime collaborator of independent film legend Sean Baker (who also co-wrote and edited the film), delivers a simultaneously heartwarming and devastating story of a single mother who moves to Taipei, Taiwan with her teenage daughter I-Ann and toddler I-Jing, facing poverty. The film continues Tsou’s and Baker’s exploration of the underrepresented, dealing in class, sex work, and immigration. Shot on an iPhone in the luminous night markets of Taipei, “Left-Handed Girl” combines social realist edge with the wonderment of a five-year-old girl too young to grasp the dire situation around her. The performances are excellent across the board. Shih-Yuan Ma plays I-Ann with an obnoxious hard-edged exterior and a tragic, fragile interior. Nina Ye is the real showstopper here as I-Jing, providing a sweet and infectious soul throughout. She’s adorable in every frame, making the tragedies that strike her all the more devastating. While “Left-Handed Girl” is certainly the smallest film on this list, its intimate scale makes it one of the most powerful.

9. Eddington

Misunderstood upon its Cannes Premiere, Ari Aster’s “Eddington” is a biting, consistently centrist, and holistic satire on 2020 America. Hitting both sides of the aisle with equal sympathy and criticism, Aster crafted a film that’s simultaneously sensitive and over-the-top. By not falling into cheap one-sided attacks like all other Hollywood political satires, Aster enables the audience to actually discuss and reflect upon America’s divisiveness in a productive rather than accusatory manner. Not to mention, the film is incredibly funny, most notably the shallow Brian character who’ll go from left-wing radical to right-wing radical for love or glory, which is in and of itself a brilliant commentary on the rise of virtue signaling and decline in earnestness in political discussion. While the third act flies off the handle with Schwarzenegger 80’s action, the film remains an incredibly valuable piece of social commentary that we get almost none of in modern Hollywood.

8. Friendship

The funniest cringe comedy of the last few years, “Friendship” is a wild trip through the mind of socially inept family man Craig Waterman, played by Tim Robinson with the right combination of cocaine-fueled frenzy and inwardness. The film follows Craig as he attains a new friendship with his neighbor Austin (Paul Rudd), but when Austin friend-dumps him, Craig… loses his mind. I love stories of social outcasts and the chaos of human interaction, and “Friendship” excels in that. Watching this schlub make increasingly horrendous decisions that create the most awkward interpersonal situations imaginable is such a disturbing joy. Topping it all off, this film has what may genuinely be one of the finest jokes in cinema history: the Subway toad trip. If you’ve seen the movie, you know what I mean.

7. Nouvelle Vague

Richard Linklater’s warm and exuberant hangout film about the pioneers of the French New Wave/Nouvelle Vague during the production of Jean-Luc Godard’s “Breathless” is one of the most enjoyable films of 2025. No knowledge of this period of French Cinema is required, as the film walks the audience through the basics, though to those who do know their Nouvelle Vague, this is quite the rewarding piece. The ensemble is tremendous; not only does each actor look almost identical to their real-life counterpart, but the line delivery is sharp and unique across the board. Guillaume Marbeck in particular gives one of 2025’s most enchanting performances as the rebellious Godard. Linklater brilliantly captured the aesthetics of Nouvelle Vague films, not only utilizing their 4:3 aspect ratio and handheld black-&-white photography, but using the same font for subtitles as those 1950s/1960s movies. Most of all, I appreciated the simplicity of this film’s ambitions. Linklater doesn’t aim for an extensive historical education or a dissection of the human condition. This is simply a good time at the movies, one that’s an escapist and widely accessible treat for cinephiles.

6. It Was Just an Accident

The well-deserved winner of the Palme d’Or at the 2025 Cannes Film Festival, Jafar Panahi’s “It Was Just an Accident” is a heart-stopping indictment of the Iranian regime. The film, shot secretly and illegally by the maverick Panahi, follows a ragtag group of former political prisoners that captures a man who may or may not be their former prison tormentor and now face the dilemma of what to do with this potentially innocent civilian. Panahi captures the story in extremely long takes with biting dialogue amidst barren desert landscapes or bustling cityscapes. By situating the audience in the same shot for such extended periods, Panahi better envelops the viewers into the characters’ dangerous and morally ambiguous situation. The suspense is ever-present, as no decision will end well and the characters only become more and more distraught, all building up to a spine-tingling finale for the ages that leaves the audience questioning the line between vengeance and mercy.

After the international acclaim of the film, Panahi has been sentenced for a year in prison by the Iranian government for speaking out against the regime, only demonstrating the fearlessness and necessity of his art.

5. Weapons

It’s impossible not to be engrossed by Zach Cregger’s labyrinthian horror epic about a town coping with the sudden disappearance of a class of elementary school children. After this film and “Barbarian,” Cregger has established himself as the defining horror filmmaker of the 2020s. The clever Rashomon narrative tool of shifting between different characters’ perspectives builds an entire world for the film, one with equal humanity and surrealism. As always, Cregger’s hyper-naturalistic conversations are exceptional here, as is his ability to craft sudden jolting twists that generate gasps across the audience. The ensemble brings their A-game here, fully committing to the comedic and dire aspects of the material, most of all Amy Madigan, whose villainous turn is destined to become iconic. With “Weapons,” Cregger continues to demonstrate the very best of what genre cinema has to offer.

4. Bugonia

Yorgos Lanthimos continues his prolific one-movie-per-year streak with my favorite of his filmography in “Bugonia.” The film follows two disturbed young men, one played by Jesse Plemons in yet another outstanding performance by our finest character actor, who kidnap a CEO they’re convinced is an alien, played by Emma Stone. The majority of the movie is composed of intense ideological debates between Plemons and Stone, with Sorkinian banter and long monologues as Plemons tries to coerce Stone into admitting she’s an extraterrestrial while Stone strategizes how to talk her way to freedom. The chess game between the characters is always compelling, ratcheting up the tension until the bombastic third act where all hell breaks loose and mind-bending reveals appear every five minutes. Robbie Ryan’s cinematography is absolutely astounding: though most of the film takes place in a single basement, Ryan uses VistaVision cameras to create a large canvas with a gorgeous orange-red color palette and close-ups that look like landscapes in and of themselves. Likewise, Jerskin Fendrix’s bombastic larger-than-life score nicely contrasts the small scope, making the film feel like a science fiction epic. “Bugonia” is a textbook example of how to combine maximalist and minimalist filmmaking.

3. No Other Choice

South Korean auteur Park Chan-wook’s “No Other Choice” is a riotously entertaining satire on capitalism and the hyper-competitive job market. The film follows Man-su, a family man who loses his job and after a year of failed applications, he resolves to murder his core competitors in the market, leaving him as the only hiring option. This premise, which is my favorite of 2025, enables Park to write staggeringly unpredictable twists and turns that build up to a chaotic yet neatly cohesive whole that ties together the many quirky characters and story beats. This is all peppered with over-the-top, often slapstick, humor that had my audience roaring with laughter as Man-su found himself in ludicrous situations. Overall, this is a highly intelligent film with some damn fun pulp entertainment value.

2. If I Had Legs I’d Kick You

Rose Byrne gives the performance of the year in Mary Bronstein’s stress-fueled heart attack of a movie about an overwhelmed mother experiencing a mental breakdown. Combining a grounded guerrilla style of extreme close-ups and handheld camerawork with trippy visuals, Bronstein envelops the audience into an almost unbearable nightmare of one stressful situation after another. Byrne has so much demanded of her here. She’s in almost every frame, with the film told exclusively from her subjective perspective (the face of her child is never shown, so as to illustrate her disillusionment with motherhood). Her character is sweating, screaming, crying, and/or running in practically every scene. This is an unvarnished look at the tribulations of motherhood, especially when neglected by one’s spouse, told with riveting and unrelenting momentum. Plus, it has Conan O’Brien playing the world’s worst therapist. Great film.

1. Hamnet

I have never heard more weeping by an audience than in Chloé Zhao’s heartbreaking family drama “Hamnet.” Combining natural realism with surrealism, Zhao delivers what is by far her greatest work. Fictionalizing real-world events, the film follows Agnes and William Shakespeare (Jessie Buckley and Paul Mescal) as they fall in love and build a beautiful family, only for it to collapse after tragedy strikes their son Hamnet, influencing Shakespeare’s iconic play “Hamlet.” When I first heard of this film, I was incredibly apprehensive. A period piece about Shakespeare sounded so esoteric and bland, but I could not have been more wrong. In execution, this is really a universal story of loss and how art not only reflects life, but can be used to heal and reckon with tragedy. Zhao directs the film with a surrealist edge emphasizing the natural world, as if spirits perpetually loom over the characters. The script, which Zhao co-wrote, is truly brilliant, with methodical storytelling that takes its time to make the audience fall in love with the family and wholly grasp the pain of Agnes and William. Zhao’s ethereal and traumatic work is amplified by Max Richter’s intimate score and Łukasz Żal’s cinematography that’s always gorgeous without calling too much attention to itself. Each element of the film works primarily in service of the story… something too few films remember to do.

Most of all, this film has the greatest set of performances of the past several years, with each actor delivering the finest work of their careers. Paul Mescal is phenomenal as Shakespeare, playing him with enough humanity to make him feel like a relatable human rather than a pop culture behemoth, while maintaining enough restraint to build a character whose solitude is his own worst enemy. Jessie Buckley is the bleeding soul of the film, portraying so much anguish through both subtle gazes and animalistic screams to the heavens. Much like Rose Byrne, this is a physical, guttural, brutal piece of expression. Topping them off, Jacobi Jupe plays their titular 10-year-old child with such endearing warmth that compounds Buckley’s pain. While “Hamnet” is no easy watch, it’s the kind of film that demonstrates cinema’s status as the most emotionally engaging art form.

“Superman” (2025) Review – New DCU Off to a Rocky Start

“Superman” was written and directed by comic book movie veteran James Gunn, intended as the kick-off to his new DC Universe of film and television. David Corenswet stars as Clark Kent/Superman, the most powerful metahuman in a world of many — too many — metahumans. He faces off against tech billionaire Lex Luthor, who plots to destroy Superman’s reputation and eliminate him with the government’s approval. The movie features an enormous cast of side characters, including shapeshifter Metamorpho and the Justice Gang, a superhero team comprised of Mr. Terrific, Hawkgirl, and the Green Lantern Guy Gardner. Not to mention Superman’s super-powered dog Krypto.

If there’s anyone who desperately wanted to love this movie, it’s yours truly. I grew up on the DC animated shows like “Batman: The Animated Series” and “Justice League: Unlimited,” which spurred my love for storytelling and cinema. Reel Opinion would not exist if it weren’t for those wonderful DC characters and their exciting stories. Plenty of critics and fans have compared Gunn’s Superman film to those shows, and that comparison is completely inappropriate. Those shows were far more mature and character-focused than “Superman,” which I’m saddened to say is a mess. A mixed bag, one that has so much potential and reverence for the characters, but indulges in spectacle and accelerated pacing that ultimately makes for an overall enjoyable yet deeply flawed piece.

Starting with what works, David Corenswet as Superman and Rachel Brosnahan as Lois Lane are perfect casting. Ultimately, the main element this film had to get right was those two characters, and thankfully it succeeded with flying colors. Corenswet is easily the best Superman we’ve had since Christopher Reeve, one who takes us back to the hopeful, fun-loving, animal-saving hero with genuine decency. Corenswet’s Superman lives to protect people, always prioritizing the civilians in harm’s way over battling the foes. Plus, he looks and sounds exactly how one would expect from reading the comics; he’s also helped by having the best cinematic Superman suit yet. Likewise, I adored Brosnahan as Lois Lane. She nails the feistiness and boundless energy, and has great chemistry with Corenswet.

I also appreciated the genuine heart and soul of the film. This never felt like another one of the formulaic, corporate superhero flicks which plague movie theaters. The film emanates love for the source material, with a warmth and tone matching the titular character. There is an exception with the film’s horrific take on Superman’s parents, but I won’t delve into spoiler territory. Even with that asinine decision, you can feel Gunn’s encyclopedic comic book knowledge come through. There’s an excitement to the movie, as if made by someone who’s dreamt of making the film for decades. “Superman” explodes with energy, playing out as a series of wild adventures that make for a supremely entertaining experience. The action sequences are incredibly inventive and over-the-top. This is a roller coaster ride of a film sure to keep general audiences engaged.

Unfortunately, that fun time is accompanied by a sloppy screenplay which accomplishes the entertainment value through plot holes, rushed pacing, and an overwhelming number of characters, twists, and action sequences. I cannot emphasize this enough: the pacing is schizophrenic. Not a single moment is allowed to breathe. The film has an “and then, and then” structure that leaves no room for depth or meaningful emotion. We barely have any deliberate scenes of Clark and Lois in the Daily Planet office. Without sufficient downtime, we don’t get enough knowledge of Superman, and the narrative ultimately becomes shallow. This isn’t helped by the excessive number of characters, a result of Gunn’s indulgent love for ensembles. Superman is often pushed aside in favor of other heroes or creatures, namely the overused Mr. Terrific. This film should have been a straightforward, standalone Superman story smoothly introducing audiences into the new DC universe, but Gunn couldn’t resist his worst tendencies. He also refuses to explain the backstories of many characters, assuming the audience doesn’t care. For instance, Metamorpho and his child suddenly appear in the middle of the film and we never learn their origin. Nor do we ever learn the backstory of Mr. Terrific, Guy Gardner, or Hawkgirl.

Superman Guy Gardner Green Lantern Nathan Fillion

Gunn also skips over massively important elements of Superman’s life. For instance, the film immediately starts with Lois knowing Superman’s secret identity and dating him. Why should we care about their relationship if we don’t know what inspired it? It’s less satisfying if we never see the build-up of Lois gradually discovering his identity. Likewise, why should we care about the Justice Gang or Metamorpho if we know so little about them? Gunn would likely say something along the lines of “We’ve seen enough origin stories” — a growing sentiment I despise — but knowledge of heroes’ origins and motivations are integral to superhero film storytelling. In large ensemble shows like “Justice League: Unlimited” with 50 characters, sure, you don’t require everyone’s origin, but live-action film is a different medium with different needs. Gunn’s indulgence and inability to leave behind his reliance on ensembles and chaos proves that, despite his clear love for the character, he was likely the wrong choice to direct a Superman movie.

The film’s problems do not end with Gunn’s script. Firstly, Lex Luthor is a mediocre villain. Nicholas Hoult underwhelms in the role despite being a great actor. He has a screechy voice and immature demeanor; Lex should be the calm, quiet type, not the loudmouth. I also took issue with the technical team Gunn surrounded himself with. To put it bluntly, cinematographer Henry Braham is truly amateurish. The film has an offputting greenish hue and frenetic, irritating camerawork. I actually found the CGI to look quite convincing, but Braham’s poor visuals worsened those visual effects. Likewise, John Murphy and David Fleming’s score was completely unremarkable.

The majority of this review has focused on the negatives, but I want to emphasize I’m only harsh because I know the gargantuan potential of these characters which have long been precious to me. I expect the very best. In James Gunn’s “Superman,” you won’t believe a man can fly.

“The Life of Chuck” Review – Life Explored Through Death

“The Life of Chuck” was written and directed by Mike Flanagan, based on a short story by Stephen King. It follows the eponymous life of everyman Chuck Krantz, whose death coincides with the end of the universe. The film is divided into three acts played in reverse chronological order (for instance, the first segment of the film is called “Act Three” and takes place at the end of the story when the universe collapses). Thus, we go from Chuck on his deathbed to Chuck as a child, the thesis of the film being how the whole universe is in one person’s mind.

Movies with such pronounced act structures often have one act outshine the others, making for a disjointed piece, and “The Life of Chuck” somewhat falls victim to this. The first segment is easily the best, a truly haunting piece of filmmaking that may be the best work of Flanagan’s career. It is 40 minutes of increasing dread, seen through the eyes of schoolteacher Marty Anderson (Chiwetel Ejiofor) and his ex-wife Felicia (Karen Gillan), who face the universe collapsing as billboards and light projections of the unknown Chuck Krantz appear everywhere, confounding them. Ejiofor is absolutely phenomenal in the film, giving a quietly solemn performance as he watches the world around him collapse. First the internet dies out. Then sinkholes swallow the ground. All the while suicide rates are skyrocketing and people jointly come to the only reasonable conclusion: the world is ending. And while it’s a horrifying watch — especially in one moment as Marty and Felicia watch planets erased from the night sky — there’s a great sense of humanity. Flanagan uses these 40 minutes to confront the audience with the worst possible outcome, yet spends the scenes focusing on a handful of characters adjusting to their fate by reuniting with loved ones and reminiscing on the beautiful moments they’ve been able to experience.

The Life of Chuck Chiwetel Ejiofor Karen Gillan

This warmth continues and grows throughout the rest of the film as we transition away from Marty and focus on the life of Chuck, played by Tom Hiddleston as an adult and a few actors as a child. What binds all three segments is a tasteful sentimentality that brings joy to the otherwise tragic and mellow life of a cancer-ridden man. This dichotomy between dour story beats and an optimistic tone complement each other far better than they should.

Dance is the core visual through-line representing Chuck’s whimsy, and thus the visual metaphor of the joys of life that the film promotes. The character falls in love with dance as a child and it remains in his soul until his final days. There’s an incredible dance number in the middle of the movie which, as told by the narrator (Nick Offerman), symbolized the meaning of life to Chuck. Another interesting mechanic of the film is how the core thesis that a universe is all in someone’s mind is slowly revealed through the use of reverse chronology. When we first see the mysterious projections of Chuck and how his death coincides with the end of the universe, it’s a mystery. Yet as we move back in time and learn Chuck’s spiritual experiences, we slowly understand what it all meant, eliciting a beautiful “ah-ha!” moment.

However, I must reiterate that “The Life of Chuck” takes a noticeable drop after the first segment. The rest of the film is always interesting but never as emotionally overwhelming. The narrative becomes deliberately unremarkable in favor of directorial and thematic whimsy, and while that worked to forward the themes and concept, Flanagan sacrifices narrative momentum. The film, though never boring, certainly meanders the more it goes along, and I left the theater more impressed by the scenes without Chuck than those with him. Ultimately, Chuck is not all that interesting of a character, so it becomes challenging to latch onto a story with a bland protagonist.

“The Life of Chuck” is an ambitious and mostly successful endeavor, one that envelops the audience in rich emotion and has a wonderful life-affirming nature that too few movies have these days. However, it suffers from disjointedness that often hinders the entertainment value.

B+

“The Phoenician Scheme” Review – Wes Anderson Can Do Better

“The Phoenician Scheme” is the latest film from auteur director Wes Anderson, starring Benicio del Toro as Zsa-zsa Korda, a wealthy businessman and the target of never-ending assassination attempts. As Zsa-zsa pursues his latest enterprise — the titular Phoenician Scheme — he appoints his daughter Liesl (Mia Threapleton), a novice nun, as his heir. Accompanying them on their adventures is Bjorn (Michael Cera), Zsa-zsa’s insect tutor and administrative assistant.

Wes Anderson has developed into a love-him-or-hate-him director in recent years, with his projects and quirky style becoming increasingly divisive. I’ve always been a fan of Anderson’s, especially of his masterpiece “Fantastic Mr. Fox,” one of my all-time favorite films. Simply put, “The Phoenician Scheme” will not convert any doubters into Wes Anderson fans. Not because it’s more stylistic than his most esoteric works — it isn’t — but because the film is generally unremarkable. This is a classic good, not great movie.

“The Phoenician Scheme” shines where all other Anderson films likewise succeed: the technical prowess. Every shot is beautifully orchestrated and, when edited together, create that staple Wes Anderson precision. You feel squarely in the hands of a visual master, a filmmaker who consistently knows how to frame his subjects in the most compelling ways possible. The visuals are so well choreographed that not a second of this film feels dull; the entire piece is consistently engaging. Additionally, this is one of Alexandre Desplat’s finest Anderson scores, with an operatic quality that makes the film appear more epic than it actually is.

Also characteristic of Anderson’s filmography is his ensemble cast, consisting of enormous stars like Tom Hanks and Scarlett Johansson, although the main trio (del Toro, Threapleton, and Cera) are the true focus. Benicio del Toro is obviously a brilliant actor, one who delivers 110% no matter the role, and here he does his best with the limited character writing he is given. More on Zsa-zsa’s lack of character depth later. Michael Cera has been singled out by many reviews as a comedic standout, which he certainly is, although the third act takes a radical turn with his character that eliminated the humor, a decision I fundamentally disagreed with. Nonetheless, he was perfect casting and matches Wes Anderson’s style beautifully. For me, the true standout was Mia Threapleton, who absolutely nails the cold Anderson delivery with each of her scathing lines; she is the true heart of the film.

Where this film falters is its simultaneously overdeveloped and underdeveloped screenplay. Overdeveloped in that the narrative rushes through a million plot points and creates a confusing narrative, and underdeveloped in that it fails to have any dramatic or emotional weight. Zsa-zsa simply is not compelling as a lead, and since the film lacks both an interesting protagonist and the emotional depth of films like “Fantastic Mr. Fox” and “The Royal Tenenbaums,” there’s nothing for the audience to latch onto. Zsa-zsa’s mission to reconnect with his daughter feels so lifeless because Zsa-zsa scarcely has any memorable character traits. He’s just a calm businessman. There’s nothing comparable in his character to the immense guilt of Steve Zissou or the incredible comedic timing of M. Gustave or the blind impulsivity of Mr. Fox.

When people complain about Anderson, they may think the problem is his radical style, but the real issue plaguing his lesser films are scripts lacking compelling character dynamics to thrust the story forward in an emotionally gripping manner. Without the necessary character depth, the film falls into style over substance, not because the style necessarily overwhelms the substance but because the substance is simply inadequate. “The Phoenician Scheme” fundamentally fails to create a memorable character.

Thus, Wes Anderson has crafted a flawed but ultimately good film in “The Phoenician Scheme.” His direction, humor, and quick pacing create a consistently entertaining movie, but the insufficient character writing prevents the film from being particularly unique. I know Anderson can do better because he has done far better. If he can just write a script with compelling character dynamics like he did in his prime, then his next film will excel.

“Captain America: Brave New World” Review – Who Cares?

“Captain America: Brave New World” is the not-at-all anticipated follow-up to Disney+’s disastrous “The Falcon and the Winter Soldier,” and stars Anthony Mackie’s Sam Wilson as the new Captain America. The film follows Wilson uncovering a sinister international plot that could disrupt the new world order, all tied into the new POTUS Thaddeus Ross, played by Harrison Ford. And then Red Hulk shows up at the end… hooray.

As one could easily gather from that synopsis, I could not be less excited for this film. I thought the aforementioned Falcon show was the single worst piece of superhero content ever created. No entertainment crime is greater than a series marketed toward children that actively supports terrorism. Beyond and including that series, the MCU has crumbled beyond recovery. Brave New World‘s franchise stakes are all compounded by this movie’s impossible challenge of following up the greatest comic book movie trilogy of all time in the original three Captain America films, the second flick “Captain America: The Winter Soldier” being not only my favorite MCU film but one of my all-time favorite movies period.

So, was “Captain America: Brave New World” the apocalyptic abomination I anticipated? No, not at all — but it remains a misfire nonetheless. Let’s start with its strongest feature: Harrison Ford’s truly first-rate performance. Ford’s Ross is a surprisingly layered and decently written character, a man whose past mistakes have yielded both massive triumphs and devastating personal consequences. His time as America’s most aggressive general won him the presidency, but also disintegrated his relationship with his daughter. Ford brings a sense of overwhelming pain and guilt to Ross, making for one of the MCU’s most tragic characters. He hits all the emotional beats: the quiet broken solitude, the infuriated screams, and even full-on tears. This may be Ford’s best work since “Blade Runner 2049,” maybe even further back. I was bewildered by his commitment.

That said, the rest of the movie is hundreds of meters below Ford/Ross in terms of quality. Firstly, the abysmal action boggles the mind. Since this is a formulaic popcorn flick, one would assume the filmmakers would at least get the action right, but these fight scenes are shockingly incompetent. Director Julius Onah is completely out of his depth, filming the combat sequences in close-ups and/or shaky cam that prevents the viewer from identifying anything onscreen, all worsened by the quick-cut editing. The sloppy visuals go beyond the fights too; this may be the weakest looking film of the MCU. Onah’s addiction to close-ups is absolutely infuriating, making for an utterly awkward movie… not to mention the plethora of both out of focus shots and hilariously awful green screen. In short, “Captain America: Brave New World” looks utterly disgusting.

Then we have the groan-worthy script. While the plot is generally less convoluted than most MCU films of the past few years, the dialogue is easily the worst of the entire franchise. I have not heard more obvious, clunky, ear-grating exposition in quite a long time. Thaddeus Ross must have repeated the line “We need this treaty” about 20 times — this is not hyperbole, I promise. Every character has at least one scene where they dump these appallingly lazy lines delivering information that the characters themselves already know, so it could not be more obvious that the dialogue exclusively serves to educate the audience on whatever gobbledygook drives the plot.

Plus, the film continues the Isaiah Bradley storyline from “The Falcon and the Winter Soldier,” which is as close to a war crime as a movie can get because that character is truly overdramatic and odious. Equally if not even more odious is the new Falcon played by Danny Ramirez, whose exasperating quips make you want to shatter the screen.

Captain America Brave New World Sam Wilson Cap

Yet the film’s greatest flaw is its most simple: Sam Wilson. What an insipid protagonist. He has never been less interesting. This is a wooden, bland, dopey, pathetic, forgettable character who doesn’t hold a candle to Steve Rogers. Wilson lacks any personality or identifiable characteristic other than his self-righteous lack of superpowers. Ultimately, because our protagonist is so suffocatingly dull the movie succumbs to monotony alongside him. We have no one to relate to or root for. I could not care less about this guy. At the end of the day, these movies are held together by the lynch pin that is their superhero lead. We no longer have Iron Man or Black Widow or the actually compelling Captain America in Steve Rogers. Now we have Mr. Plank of Wood Sam Wilson.

What amplifies this film’s many, many flaws is the fact that it’s part of a truly legendary Captain America franchise. The Winter Soldier has some of the most exhilarating action sequences in cinematic history, held together by a mature tone and adult themes about the loss of innocence and classic patriotism in post-Iraq War America. None of that film’s brilliance reaches Brave New World. Not a speck. So, despite Harrison Ford giving the movie his blood, sweat, and tears, he cannot save the audience from this grating tedium. At least this film is a step up from most Phase 4/5 MCU projects, but that’s not saying much.

D+

The Best Movies of 2024

2024 has come to a close, so it’s time to rank my favorite films of the year. Before we begin, I must note that like every year, I have not seen every movie released in 2024 (e.g. “The Wild Robot”), so this list is not quite comprehensive.

Honorable Mentions: A Different Man, Gladiator II, Juror #2, Kinds of Kindness, Love Lies Bleeding, Small Things Like These

10. The Seed of the Sacred Fig

Fearless auteur Mohammad Rasoulof was forced to flee his country of Iran in danger of incarceration for making this uncompromising condemnation of the totalitarian Iranian government. “The Seed of the Sacred Fig” was made in secret (an astounding accomplishment), and follows the daughters and wife of a government official put in charge of ordering death sentences for civilian dissenters. Over the course of the film, we see both fictional representations of Iranian atrocities and real footage of the government’s crimes against humanity, much of which literally took my breath away out of sheer horror. There is one scene in the middle of the film in particular that’s my pick for the best scene of 2024: an unbroken long take of a young woman having buckshot extracted from her bloodied, shattered face. Rasoulof captures a plethora of shocking images meant to stick with you long after you’ve seen the film, and this is one I’ll remember forever.

Rasoulof is also a tremendous scribe of dialogue. The first two hours of this nearly three hour motion picture take place almost entirely in a single apartment, so it’s heavily reliant on conversations between characters, and luckily Rasoulof maintains a constant sense of tension, danger, and dread just through what’s said — and what’s not said. Now, this film dramatically falters in its third act, which devolves into an out of place slasher-esque campfest that disrupts the grounded tone and makes the film end on a soft and generic note. If the final 45 minutes were as phenomenal as the first two hours, this would easily be in the top five films on my list. Overall though, “The Seed of the Sacred Fig” is a tremendously harrowing film which should be seen by all Western audiences. This is the most devastating movie I’ve seen in quite some time, despite its sloppy and disappointing third act.

9. Dìdi

I’ve always been a sucker for coming-of-age movies, and “Dìdi” is a great one. The film follows 13-year-old Chris Wang in the 2000s, and is a love letter to this era of AOL and YouTube’s early emergence. I love how the movie portrays Chris as a deeply flawed, almost unlikable person without judging him, contextualizing his selfishness as a result of aimlessness and peer pressure. Chris is one of 2024’s greatest characters, someone full of insecurities and uncertainties who self-isolates from those who truly love him in efforts to find his place in the world. Joan Chen gives one of the year’s best performances, providing a deeply sympathetic and warm portrayal of Chris’s struggling mother. “Dìdi” is a beautiful and universally relatable story about how impossible it feels to be a teenager, especially in the Internet era.

8. The Apprentice

Yep, the Trump movie is on this list. I’m surprised as you probably are, but this is a really solid film and I’ll staunchly defend it as one of 2024’s best films. To those apprehensive toward the movie, I recommend you approach it as if Donald Trump and Roy Cohn are just fictional characters rather than real people. “The Apprentice” is an entertaining and accessible story about corruption, greed, and the excesses of capitalism which I feel anyone can enjoy if they have the right mindset. While there are some historical liberties taken (one of which is understandably blasphemous to fans of Trump), this is a surprisingly nuanced and largely faithful portrayal. The first half deeply humanizes young Donald before it shows him devolving into a morally bankrupt 1980s businessman, to an astounding degree. He’s initially presented as a struggling entrepreneur with a verbally abusive father and a genuine desire to construct gorgeous buildings for the city, only to turn into a sex-crazed manipulator when he’s corrupted by Roy Cohn’s teachings. This is not a hit piece nor a puff piece; it is exactly what it should be, which is a captivating and balanced look at this complicated man’s rise to power under the tutelage of Roy Cohn.

Ali Abbasi was the perfect choice to direct the film, as he isn’t an American and thus lacks political bias, and also because he brings a wonderfully frenetic energy to the film that otherwise isn’t there in the screenplay. The performances in “The Apprentice” are what truly make it pop. Sebastian Stan is perfect. He completely nails all of Trump’s mannerisms but brilliantly chooses not to mimic the future president’s voice, instead using his own voice but with a New York accent. That way, he feels exactly like a young Trump without falling into irritating SNL caricature. Jeremy Strong is likewise outstanding as Roy Cohn, with zombie-like body movements and a snapping turtle facial posture. Strong especially wowed me toward the end of the film playing the broken AIDS-stricken Cohn, coming to terms with his inevitable demise and isolation.

7. Nosferatu

Robert Eggers’ 2024 “Nosferatu” remake is a one-of-a-kind horror spectacle. Despite being based on the 1922 film of the same name and being a product of hundreds of predecessor vampire flicks, Eggers made this Nosferatu take entirely his own thanks to his visceral gothic style that I’ve always found highly engrossing. Eggers creates these deeply disturbing, fantastical experiences that pushes the art form forward. Lily-Rose Depp gives one of 2024’s best performances as the lead character Ellen Hutter, a woman haunted by the lust of a generally terrifying Count Orlok/Nosferatu in Bill Skarsgård (he would be scarier without the Lorax mustache Eggers’ team confoundingly put on him). While not as accomplished as Eggers’ previous two films “The Lighthouse” and “The Northman,” “Nosferatu” certainly gets the job done, with a plethora of chills and skin-crawling images that make for a fantastic horror movie.

6. A Real Pain

“A Real Pain” is one of the most easily lovable films of 2024, a classic dramedy akin to Alexander Payne’s works. It follows two mismatched cousins David and Benji Kaplan who reunite for a Holocaust tour in Poland to honor their recently deceased grandmother, a survivor of Hitler’s genocide. While this is certainly a dour backdrop, Jesse Eisenberg’s immaculate screenplay (potentially the year’s best) impeccably flows between drama and comedy, providing some of the biggest laughs and tear-jerking moments of 2024 cinema. Eisenberg (who also stars and directs) gives his best performance since “The Social Network” as David, a man who prides himself on having his act together while being deeply insecure. Kieran Culkin is also great as Benji, the unstable and humorous depressive. Although Culkin is being wildly overpraised by awards circles, there’s no denying he gives a damn good performance. Best of all, the film is a glorious 90 minutes. You’re in and out quickly, but when you leave, the characters, themes, and clever-as-hell title stay with you for weeks on end.

5. The Brutalist

Writer/director Brady Corbet’s three-and-a-half-hour historical epic about a Hungarian architect immigrating to America in the mid-20th century is a sumptuous cinematic experience. “The Brutalist” harks back to the lengthy American epics of Old Hollywood while aiming even higher, taking massive swings with its grand twist-and-turn narrative that almost entirely worked for me. I loved how unpredictable the film was. It features an outstanding cast, with a heartbreaking Adrien Brody as the protagonist László Tóth, featured in almost every scene. Brody bears all here and is tasked with carrying the entire film on his shoulders, and he never takes a false step. I also adored Felicity Jones’ vulnerable performance as László’s equally broken wife Erzsébet.

The film is all about the painful journey of the artist toward accomplishing their goal and whether or not said journey is worth it, painting this subject on the backdrop of the American Dream and dissecting this capitalist staple as a potential myth. “The Brutalist” is a deeply moving film which somehow flies by and feels an hour shorter than its actual length, and I cannot recommend this elite motion picture enough.

4. The Substance

This indie body horror mind-boggler took pop culture by storm, and for good reason. Coralie Fargeat’s gloriously maximalist filmmaking features some of the most exciting cinematic flourishes of the decade. That head-bopping score, grotesque makeup, obscenely colorful cinematography, and breakneck editing all mesh perfectly to create an experience like no other. Fargeat has immediately established herself as a unique visionary here, someone who merges the accessible genre flick with the thematic arthouse film. Nothing about “The Substance” is subtle, and while usually that’s a cinematic crime, the hit-you-over-the-head nature of the film works to its credit here, converging toward a thrilling horror masterwork full of originality in style and story. The titular Substance is a brilliant on-the-nose metaphor for the quick-fix beauty schemes pushed on women by Hollywood, and watching Demi Moore’s Elizabeth Sparkle (stellar character name, by the way) spiral out of control as her body morphs into a self-imposed monstrosity is simultaneously exciting and heartbreaking. This film may not be for everybody, but it certainly appealed to me. I had an absolute blast both times I experienced “The Substance.”

3. Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga

George Miller proves once again that he can make it epic. “Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga” is one of the best prequels of all time: a gas-guzzling powerhouse of a movie with immaculate worldbuilding and action set pieces that very few directors can pull off. Miller had a lot to live up to after “Mad Max: Fury Road,” and I honestly believe this latest entry into the “Mad Max” franchise is the best one yet. The film grabs hold of you and doesn’t let go for two-and-a-half hours, with the pacing and vibrancy of the many great engines on the fury road. This is easily the best written film of the franchise, with a fleshed out screenplay giving proper context to the world introduced in the previous movie while always maintaining strict focus on the core narrative of Anya Taylor-Joy’s Furiosa exacting her vengeance on Chris Hemsworth’s Dementus. Speaking of the latter, Hemsworth deserves an Oscar nomination for his work here. It’s certainly a loud performance, but it works perfectly. He has never been so unhinged and dangerous on screen. Dementus steals the show in every one of his scenes, especially in the shockingly dialogue-centric finale, and he may be 2024’s most memorable villain. It is an absolute tragedy that this film bombed at the box office, given just how rich and precise in detail it is on every level from the worldbuilding to the masterful direction to the layered performances. Plus, it has some of the best camerawork in the history of cinema. This film floored me.

2. Dune: Part Two

Denis Villeneuve is my favorite director working today and flat out one of the best filmmakers of all time in my eyes, so given my adoration for both him and the first film, I entered “Dune: Part Two” with stratospheric expectations. Yet I had faith it would live up to them, and alas, it did. This is a spectacular film, a true cinematic event which demonstrates the power of The Movies. As with the first film, “Dune: Part Two” is a technical wonder. The sound design, editing, visual effects, and cinematography — my God, that mind-blowing Greig Fraser cinematography —is top of the line, all the best of 2024. In fact, it’s pretty safe to say at this point that Villeneuve’s “Dune” series may be the most technically accomplished films in the history of cinema, or at least prominent in the conversation. His direction is out of this world (literally), bestowing audiences with unforgettable goose-bumping sequences such as the worm ride and Paul’s show-stopping speech to the Fremen.

“Dune: Part Two” isn’t just an audio-visual wonder, however; it has immense thematic and emotional substance, which is what makes it so powerful. It brilliantly flips the hero’s journey on its head, presenting a hero who may actually be the villain in the long run. Paul Atreides exploits a struggling people through religious prophecy to attain great power, at the eventual detriment of millions of soon-to-be lost souls. Villeneuve demystifies and warns of messianic figures with his “Dune” saga, making for a grand sci-fi epic with real depth.

1. Anora

Although this is supposed to be a more joyful and positive article, as a critic I must acknowledge that 2024 was a dark chapter for cinema. So many mediocre and terrible films have supplanted this as potentially the worst year for motion pictures in my lifetime. But “Anora” restored my hope for the art form. As soon as I left the New York City screening in October, I knew this was something extraordinarily special. No film this year has been more riveting, more hilarious, more emotionally devastating than writer/director Sean Baker’s Palme d’Or winner about a sex worker’s Cinderella story gone-wrong set in Brighton Beach, Brooklyn.

Everything about this film is at or near perfection: the frenetic editing, the luscious cinematography, the ambitious screenplay, the adrenalized direction, and the best ensemble of the past decade. Mikey Madison gives the greatest lead performance of the year as the lovably feisty title character, and Yura Borisov gives the greatest supporting performance of the year as the socially awkward Russian henchman Igor. The film is a gloriously thrilling roller coaster ride in the pacing and the tonal shifts between screwball comedy and dour neorealism. Not a second is wasted. All of the film is thoroughly engrossing, through the lightning-fast first act, heightened and hysterical second act, and overwhelmingly tragic third act.

“Anora” is a masterpiece. The next great cinematic landmark. The best film of 2024.