The Ten Best Movies of 2025
I learned something about myself and my relationship to movies in 2025. First, I was much more choosy with what I chose to watch, meaning that I saw more movies I was excited about rather than movies I felt compelled to watch simply because they were released in a certain window. And second, as good as some of 2025’s offerings were, I think I need to get back to my roots a bit. I have hundreds of Criterion Collection DVD and Blu-Rays sitting on the shelf collecting dust and my Letterboxd watchlist is in thousands – why am I not watching those?
With that in mind, 2026 will be different: I’m going to watch more old movies than ever before. When I first started writing about movies over ten years ago, all I did was catch up on “classics,” and I have to say, I miss that. And while I’ll still do my best to keep up with what’s current, I’m freeing myself of any self-imposed obligation to see any movie that I’m not excited about. If this changes the way my 2026 year-end round-up looks, so be it.
So, friends, here’s to a 2026 filled with a joyful and childlike exhuberance for movies new and old. But, of course, we can’t say hello to a new year without saying goodbye to 2025 and honoring the films I found most worthwhile. Here goes nothing…
10. Universal Language
Whether or not you find Rankin’s ice-covered and slush-ridden film as aesthetically beautiful as I do is of course subjective. This kind of thing is always a matter of perspective, but for someone like me who grew up just four hours south of the film’s Winnipeg setting (and someone who has been living in either Florida or North Carolina for over twenty years now), I personally find the dirty snow, the visible breath, and other cold weather trappings nostalgic and endearing. Where others see only harshness and inconvenience, I see the reality of my youth, and can easily remember how no one thought about the long, cold winter months in this way. They just “were.” But then again, whenever I rewatch Fargo, I find myself inwardly boasting, “Behold the enchanting majesty of the Minnesota prairie in winter!” (Do only we Northerners truly see it this way?) READ THE FULL REVIEW.
9. Weapons
With the unsated clamor still taking place outside, I saw the man peer through the head-high square window in the door, and I will never forget the look on his face for as long as I live. His expression was one of utter terror, confusion, and disbelief – and in the decades since the incident, I still have yet to see its equal up close. Zach Cregger’s Weapons put a similar expression on my face. READ THE FULL REVIEW.
8. Eddington
Eddington exists not as an endorsement of its characters’ behavior but as a biting and satirical condemnation of it. Eddington is your racist uncle at Thanksgiving. It’s white law enforcement acting without fear of consequences. It’s the comment section on your hometown newspaper’s website. It’s Twitter and Facebook, and most of social media in general. It’s the ignorant and gullible among us who are afraid of large cities and who rarely travel more than 100 miles from where they were born. READ THE FULL REVIEW.
7. Vulcanizadora
The unbelievable performances continue into the climax’s aftermath, as confusion, guilt, and PTSD are solidified into the story, resulting in self-shattering (and darkly comedic) realizations and actions that impossibly straddle the line between complete morbidity and “feel good” cinema. It’s a rollercoaster – one that will pitch you upside down and make you dizzy, giddy, and nauseous. READ THE FULL REVIEW ON PATREON OR SUBSTACK.
6. Sinners
Coogler’s “I’m sick of this shit” political stance (especially the final daytime massacre that serves as an extremely satisfying and cathartic “in case you misunderstood where I’m coming from” cherry on top) is enhanced by his brilliant emphasis on music and the importance it holds over culture and identity. This celebration of music, art, and generational connection is exemplified in a spectacular sequence that sees the spirits of struggling people throughout time converge and add power to a young bluesman’s (Miles Caton) performance. READ THE FULL REVIEW.
5. Sirât
Of all the movies I saw in 2025, Óliver Laxe’s Sirât (an Islamic term for the narrow bridge between Heaven and Hell) is easily the most difficult and uncomfortable to watch. Calling this doomed journey grim would be putting it lightly, but beneath the mental and physical torture he puts his characters through, Laxe strikes a balance between terrifying existentialism and the kinds of deep truths we all know but rarely speak aloud. It may be hard to spot, but there is meaning to be found in the dust-choked and sun-beaten hell of Sirât. The only problem is that finding may require a level of fortitude many filmgoers are unwilling or unable to tap into. READ THE FULL REVIEW.
4. Freaky Tales
I loved watching Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck’s Freaky Tales so much, I couldn’t stop grinning or laughing (seriously, I grinned so much my head hurt) – and I’m pretty sure my smartwatch thought I was experiencing some kind of unexplained heart arrhythmia. I don’t know how they did it, but this wonderful pair of directors (who also helmed 2019’s Captain Marvel, which I also loved) somehow reached into my brain, pulled out a large chunk of who I am, and then banged it down on the table as a finished anthology film. So help me this movie made me simultaneously feel just like I did when I saw Pulp Fiction in the theater with my friends, discovered Repo Man on late night TV, and heard the Blatz/Filth “Shit Split” for the first time. In other words, in total awe of what was in front of me. READ THE FULL REVIEW.
3. No Other Choice
But No Other Choice isn’t just a commentary. It’s also a profound artistic achievement. Along with cinematographer Kim Woo-hyung, Park has created one of the most visually stunning films to come along in some years. The pair’s use of innovative techniques and tilting cameras that morph into match cuts would make Kubrick and Lean spin in their graves with jealousy if such a thing were possible. Even if pitch black social commentary isn’t your thing, No Other Choice is still an astounding watch based on its visual style alone – and that it was completely snubbed by the Oscars should be considered a major scandal. My only explanation in this regard is that Hollywood doesn’t want any more Parasites exposing its shortcomings on the world stage. They are a largely self-congratulatory and cowardly bunch, after all. Shutting out No Other Choice may have been an act of self defense. READ THE FULL REVIEW.
2. It Was Just an Accident
Somehow, with just the squeak of a prosthetic leg in need of oil, Panahi builds a level of tension and mystery that will have you on the edge of your seat and desperate for answers. And it’s this seemingly innocuous sound that not only sets the film’s events in motion, but, by the end, also becomes one of the most frightening bits of audio I’ve heard in some time. READ THE FULL REVIEW.
1. The Secret Agent
Less than five minutes into this wonderfully odd, bitingly political, and skillfully crafted giant of a film, I found myself jotting down the following note: “I might love this movie already.” From the outset, Mendonça Filho establishes that the world of his film – that of 1977 Brazil, while under military dictatorship – is one filled not just with fear and repression, but also beauty and a strong zeal for life, culture, and companionship. Politically, it’s a dark place and time, but the darkness is continually outshone by the brightness of its characters and the possibility they hold for a better future. They are refugees, activists, and others the state has deemed dangerous due to the things they have seen and experienced, and so naturally, I loved every one of these rabble-rousing outcasts instantly. READ THE FULL REVIEW.
