Happy New Year!

2025 has been an incredibly busy but deeply rewarding year for me. I was able to pursue so many incredible creative opportunities both in my professional and personal life, and continued to develop who I am as an artist and a performer. More for the downside, though: I got very behind on movie reviews. The thrust of my academic/extracurricular schedule was generous in allowing me the opportunity to get to the theater regularly, but not so much to sit down and write an in-depth analysis of what I saw. You might have noticed gaping holes in my 2025 catalogue on this site throughout the year, but rest assured I still got to see almost everything. When the end of the year came around and it was time to compile my list, I realized just how many of my favorites I hadn’t talked about before, so I’ve gone a little more in-depth into my picks here than I usually would (for the few that Idid cover, I’ve linked my full reviews).

This year at the movies we saw stunning new works from both legendary directors and first-time auteurs, a seemingly endless list of sequels, remakes, adaptations, and reimaginings, some all-time-best performances, and certainly some embarrassing ones, too. Amidst it all, audiences were also blessed with a select few bold, original stories, and quite a number of them made my list. When looking through them all, it’s hard not to pick up on a common theme: art is everything. The movies of 2025 centered on art being used as a form of rebellion, memorialization, escapism, and pride. In a world that can be so volatile and frightening, it’s important that we can return to art as a way to express ourselves and experience the different perspectives and cultures around us. These 10 movies are the finest demonstration of art’s immortality. I know I’ll be returning to them again and again.

Cheers,

Jonah

Kleber Mendonça Filho’s “The Secret Agent” is one of those carefully calibrated thrillers that builds and builds until it explodes into madness in its final scenes. If you stick with it for the whole runtime, it becomes a deeply rewarding experience. Starring Wagner Moura in his best performance to date, the movie is about a technology expert named Marcelo who moves from São Paulo to Recife in the midst of the Brazilian military dictatorship in 1977. When he slowly begins to realize that his neighbors have started spying on him, and that hired hitmen are out to put a bullet in his head, “The Secret Agent” turns into a madcap extravaganza of globe-trotting proportions. And, like a few other movies on this list, it uses violence not for shock value, but as a tool, just one feature of this war-torn world. Filho’s often introspective script offers an immersive look into a country dominated by a fascist regime, split up into three ambitious chapters—the final of which contains some of the most suspenseful filmmaking of the whole year. This epic film also concludes with one of the best epilogues I’ve maybe ever seen, recontextualizing the entire narrative that just unfolded and linking this nearly 50-year-old story to modern times. I suspect “The Secret Agent” will see a wider release come Oscar season, and when it does, don’t miss it.

Christopher Nolan’s “Odyssey” may not be releasing until July 2026, but Timothée Chalamet’s odyssey came out this year. “Marty Supreme” is the finest showcase of this young actor’s talent, who already has so many strong performances under his belt. But unlike his work in other films, he’s playing to a certain level of sophistication here that he hasn’t before. Both him and the movie are the real deal. Directed by Josh Safdie, “Marty Supreme” doesn’t feel quite like any sports movie I’ve ever seen, despite combining familiar pieces of so many. It’s frantic, excited fun with superb editing and a versatile aesthetic that doesn’t seem derived from any one time period or era; instead it’s a fusion of several. This is a cinematic world that feels enchantingly lived-in, not just by the folks of the 50s but by people we know today. Marty Mauser, Milton Rockwell, and Kay Stone are all timeless characters, and versions of them continue to exist among us in 2025. You leave the movie wondering what its table tennis facade might have to suggest about the machinations of our society, despite all the entertainment value. I still don’t think everything works plot-wise, but seeing it a second time really solidified its greatest strengths, and made clear to me that this is one of those movies that will always have a place reserved in the pop culture conversation for years to come.

The black sheep of this list might be Francis Lawrence’s “The Long Walk,” but until you’ve seen it, it’s hard to comprehend just how big of an emotional punch it packs. In my lengthiest review of the year, I go in-depth into why this Stephen King adaptation isn’t just upsetting by itself, but a rattling thinkpiece about our desensitization to violence in the current state of this country. Released the same week that a shocking demonstration of gun violence shook America to its core, “The Long Walk” feels like a warning to the audience about where we might be headed if we aren’t careful. It’s also just a masterpiece of pacing (literally and figuratively), making for one of the most purely engaging movies of 2025. It’s hard to recommend it to friends and family just because of how relentlessly violent and upsetting it is—this certainly isn’t the kind of movie that you could casually sit down and watch on the couch on a Saturday night—but it’s one of the finest demonstrations of character-driven storytelling of the year and a brilliant showcase for young actors such as Cooper Hoffman and David Jonsson who have very bright futures ahead of them. I love it and despise watching it equally as much.

The mother of all science fiction stories, Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein got its own spectacular new adaptation this year, and the biggest problem with it is that most people probably watched it on Netflix rather than on a big IMAX screen where it undoubtedly belongs. This reimagined classic is perhaps the most gorgeous movie of the whole year, grounded by two remarkable lead performances. The first is Oscar Isaac as the titular Victor Frankenstein, an eccentric scientist who gets so aroused by stirring up life until he’s threatened by his own creation itself. The second is Jacob Elordi as The Creature, who delivers such a masterclass in body horror that you can’t quite blame Victor for being frightened. The synergy between the two leads is so strong in its unstable energy that the tension arises before the action even begins. Director Guillermo del Toro is known for creating unbelievable worlds on massive sets that will have you rubbing your eyes with realism. “Frankenstein” does not disappoint in this field. Populated by a vibrant ensemble of exotic personalities, and taking place amidst impossibly lush scenery, it’s a visual potluck of moviemaking magic. Del Toro’s greatest feat of all, though, is how he manages to make this legendary story incredibly engaging, despite it being around for over 200 years, and new versions of it being made practically every few months (“Tron: Ares” from this year is a prime example). This narrative has directly influenced so much of media, but remains just as spectacular on its own. It’s not a “Frankenstein’s monster” of literary pieces, like so many subsequent iterations have been. It’s just, well … “Frankenstein.”

Look for the little details in Joachim Trier’s excellent “Sentimental Value.” The fleeting looks of unease exchanged between Gustav (Stellan Skarsgård) and his two daughters Nora (Renate Reinsve) and Agnes (Inga Ibsdotter Lilleaas). The way their family home is framed, lit with an unmistakable lived-in warmth. How American movie star Rachel Kemp (Elle Fanning) grows uncertain as she reads Gustav’s latest script, contemplating whether she’s the right fit for his dream project, and how Nora reacts as it slowly begins to dawn on her that it’s a movie about herself. These small strokes contribute to the broader ones in “Sentimental Value,” which is ultimately a movie about the strong connection between the personal and creative and how our lives and traumas inform our art whether we realize it or not. It’s kind of the Norwegian version of “Jay Kelly,” another solid movie this year about an artist reckoning with their career and body of work that’s certainly more accessible but not as emotionally powerful as “Sentimental Value.” Trier understands how to keep a movie moving just through dialogue, but there are several perfect moments where characters communicate wordlessly. This is a film where one glance speaks a thousand words, and silence means everything because it’s silence. It’s also a film unafraid to explore nuances and gray areas because real people contain multitudes of them, which makes it more raw and unfiltered than any American movie released this year. The beautiful screenplay from Trier and Eskil Vogt is designed to be evocative of our personal lives. By the end, you may be so inspired to reach inside yourself and tell a new story of your own, too.

William Shakespeare’s most essential play shouldn’t have anything to do with the tragic death of his only son, save for its title and his name. When iconic scenes from the work are performed late into “Hamnet,” Oscar-winning director Chloe Zhao’s newest film, you may initially struggle, indeed, to forge connections between the painful story we’ve just witnessed and the plot and staging of the play. This won’t matter much, though, because the journey that takes us there is immediately one of the most moving of the year, not simply because of the excellent cinematography and Zhao’s maelstrom of refined details, but because of the film’s formidable demonstration of one of the most cardinal tenets of the art form of entertainment: two actors talking to each other. Simply everything about “Hamnet” is beautiful, but it’s the most quiet scenes between two characters—husband and wife, friend and friend, father and son—that speak the loudest volumes. Jessie Buckley delivers one of the most powerhouse performances of the year as Agnes, a wife and mother who’s struggling to raise a family while navigating the shadow of her husband’s successful career. It’s largely a movie about her, despite the title referring to somebody else, and William freaking Shakespeare being one of the characters. But Buckley imbues this woman with such extraordinary rage and grief that she becomes the largest takeaway. The final scene at Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre, itself, is one of the very best of 2025, as Agnes finally sees how her husband has channeled their shared grief into a piece of art that will immortalize the memory of their son for posterity. Notice the subtle changes in Buckley’s visage as it slowly dawns on her, and the crowd’s reactions around her as it happens. It’s the most poignant scene in the most poignant movie of the year.

Previous Palme d’Or winners at the Cannes Film Festival have centered on the corrupt inner workings of the social class like “Parasite,” “Triangle of Sadness,” and last year’s Best Picture winner “Anora.” This year, they chose a film that explores adjacent themes in a different way. “It Was Just an Accident” is an incredibly brave work, a form of unabashed rebellion from the characters and the filmmakers, alike. I went into it almost completely blind, which I’d reckon is the best way to watch it. So I’ll refrain from describing the plot in detail. Just know that whatever expectation you may have about the film’s set of characters at the beginning will be dramatically subverted by the end. This ragtag group is brave for defying conventional notions of governmental conformity and so is the film’s infamous director, Jafar Panahi. Banned from making movies in his home country of Iran, Panahi filmed entirely in secret around Tehran, and used mostly non-professional actors to make for a more authentic experience. His gamble was worth it. “It Was Just an Accident” doesn’t feel like any other movie released in 2025 because its characters don’t feel like characters at all. These are quite literally real people. The film’s best moments are almost documentary-like, mirroring stories we see in the news all the time, retold in an inquisitive, highly entertaining parable about how cruelty is most often responded to with cruelty. The final 20 minutes contain possibly one of the best unbroken shots I’ve ever seen in any movie, while the work from the ensemble across the board is nothing short of magnificent. This is a special kind of movie where everything seems so authentic that you completely forget you’re watching a movie at all.

Paul Thomas Anderson doesn’t make normal movies. Even when he settles on a genre, which, indeed, isn’t very often, he always adds his own signature twist. His latest project “One Battle After Another” falls perfectly in line with the rest of his filmography in this way, even if it’s not like any of his other movies at all. Without a doubt, though, this one is among his absolute best. After years of experimenting with different types of stories, “One Battle After Another” fully displays everything he’s learned as a director. After assembling interwoven narratives in “Magnolia,” detailing the exploits of a troubled oilman in “There Will Be Blood,” and exploring the hypocrisy of prestigious power dynamics in “Phantom Thread,” PTA has enough masterpieces under his belt to understand to never half-ass a central theme or cinematic idea. You can see a little bit of everything in “One Battle After Another,” and it’s all balanced masterfully—social commentary, family, political factions, violence, revolution, independence, growing up, racism, sexism, and parenthood. Nothing gets shortchanged in the way of something else. If this makes it seem like “One Battle After Another” would be preachy, it isn’t. Anderson’s razor-sharp script moves at an impressive pace, making for one of the most propulsive and purely entertaining movies of the year. The way Anderson marries insightful commentary with adrenaline-fueled action, tied up with remarkable moviemaking and some of the best performances of 2025—DiCaprio’s expectedly terrific, but the real highlights are Best Supporting Actor frontrunner Sean Penn, and emerging star Chase Infiniti—turns the film into PTA’s own form of rebellion, a battle cry of his own. In the past, Anderson thoughtfully illustrated the lives of people from different eras and cultural backgrounds. This time, he’s made a landmark movie about us and for us.

Clint Bentley’s “Train Dreams” is one of those special movies that you don’t just watch, but feel in every part of your body. The first thought I had while watching it is that it feels like a great American novel unfolding right in front of you, and yet it’s largely just about one man wandering through life, yearning for a purpose, meeting new people, searching for family, and finding personal happiness. It’s so big and so small at the same time. Life is like that, too, though, and of all the movies of 2025, this one understands that the most. Written by Bentley and Greg Kwedar (“Sing Sing”), “Train Dreams” chronicles the quiet existence of Robert Grainier, one of the loggers and railroad workers who built the foundations of the America we know today, whose pains and sacrifices allowed other people to connect with their loved ones and experience the country, but who largely went underappreciated as human beings on this planet themselves. Grainier is played brilliantly by Joel Edgerton in the kind of subtle performance that doesn’t tend to win big awards but is equally as impressive as DiCaprio’s work in “One Battle After Another” or Chalamet's in “Marty Supreme.” The film is mostly Edgerton’s one man act, although he’s at times supported by memorable performances from Felicity Jones as his wife Gladys, William H. Macy as a fellow logger he meets and learns from through his travels, and Kerry Condon as a woman who teaches him to look at the world and its many gifts in a different way. Narrated by the warm, gritty voice of Will Patton, “Train Dreams” may be quiet and, by proxy, unassuming, but it’s the most I’ve been emotionally moved by a film this year. This one’s a gem.

“Sinners” is one of those once-in-a-lifetime movies, a film so original that you’ve never seen anything like it before. What’s there to say about Ryan Coogler’s magnum opus that hasn’t already been said? So much has been written about the virtuosity of Michael B. Jordan’s duel performances as well as the whole ensemble, the uncanny fusion of horror, musical, and historical fiction, the cultural significance of the story, and, of course, that one scene—an explosion of pure creativity that will be regarded among the best cinematic sequences of the 2020s. What I think has been somewhat overlooked, though, is how many new, wonderful details you pick up on each time you watch it. I’ve seen it four times now (something I can only say about a handful of movies), and each time I’ve noticed and appreciated dozens of small, brilliant touches that I hadn’t spotted before. Cinematographer Autumn Durald Arkapaw and production designer Hannah Beachler have created an abundantly rich, warm, and sometimes dangerous world that you can’t stop returning to. Even as I write these words, I feel the intense, nostalgic urge to revisit it again as soon as possible. Listening to Ludwig Göransson’s incredibly versatile score on repeat has defined my year in more than one way, while my incessant recommending of it to everybody I know has been my newest go-to conversation starter. I don’t have anything to do this weekend. What should I watch? “Sinners.” I’m feeling sick today. Do you have any suggestions for what I should watch at home? “Sinners.” I was thinking of going to the movies tonight, but I haven’t heard of anything that’s playing. What should I see? “Sinners.” Gee, I just didn’t like “Sinners” very much. Do you have any other recommendations? Try “Sinners” again. “Sinners” is the answer to most things.