Musings & Reviews

Movies! Films! Cinema! Being that this is my first real post here on the new blog, allow my to impress upon you just how much I absolutely love movies. You probably know that about me, but if you didn’t… now you do! The gist: I’ve loved movies from a very early age, obsessively re-watching and exploring new things and going to the cinema as much as possible. Blockbuster Video was a second home to me throughout my childhood. In the late 90s, when I was a little bit older, I saw a few movies that really rocked my world and illustrated to me me how movies are more than just entertainment… they are perhaps the most pure art form, combining the best of the visual and aural arts alongside narrative storytelling. Movies may not be my one true love (I’m an equal opportunity appreciator of the various arts) but I have certainly put the most time into them. I went to film school. I’ve worked on sets. I spent a few years as a paid film critic. I love to analyze, critique, ponder, and obsesses. Movies, man! The movies.

So, here’s the deal. I’m not the arbiter of taste. I’m not going to sit here and say, “these are the best movies of the year!” I’m not that bold. These are simply my favorites. The ones that moved me, that inspired me, that tickled me the most. As you’ll see, the selections fall in a wide array of styles and genres and that’s really what I’m taking away from 2023. Despite the strikes, for the first time since pre-covid 2023 felt like a complete year of cinema. There were quality offerings coming from all different directions, a robust slate of movies to enjoy far beyond just the 25 I’m listing here. I don’t buy into the notion that cinema is dead or that there can be a bad year for cinema. (Don’t get me started on the amorphous nature of time!) If you put in the time and look all around you, there’s usually always something worth seeing. Was 2023 a great year? How does it compare? Only time will tell. However, there were certainly a large amount of films I enjoyed, and I am excited to celebrate and share many of them with you below.

A few notes:

1. As I alluded to above, there are far more than just these 25 movies that I enjoyed from this year. Films of all genres, from drama to horror to superhero to musicals to young adult adaptations to foreign films to studio comedies to legacy sequels. Wonderful concert films and theatrical pro-shots that I didn’t even consider for this list. A film not being on this list does not necessarily mean I didn’t like it! It hurt me to leave off so many other enjoyable films.
2. For the most part, the ranking herein is arbitrary and purely for presentation and academic purposes. In a few years when I sit down to watch or discuss any of these films the ranking it had on this list (or even that it was on this list!) won’t matter at all. This is about passion and celebration, not the obsessive details of list making
3. I haven’t seen everything that I wanted to, not even close!* But, I set a mid-January goal in my mind to publish this and I’m sticking to it. There are many films I wish I had time to see and many that I wasn’t able to access in 2023, and that’s just how it goes! This is simply reflective of my movie watching year.
4. *Some of the films that may have played a factor that I haven’t had a chance to see include: The Zone of Interest, Monster, Origin, Falling Leaves, Perfect Days, and The Taste of Things (I’ll count this as a 2024 release based on its overall theatrical release.)

All of that being said, here we go…

(25) Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mutant Mayhem (Dir. Jeff Rowe)

It would be foolish to ignore the fact that this film likely only exists because of the success of Into The Spider-Verse, but boy am I glad that’s the case. Some animation studios in 2023 were content to just let whatever major intellectual property they were working with rest on their laurels and craft the most middle of the road movie possible, and although the box office proved potent the end results did not. Sony Animation, on the other hand, working with director Jeff Rowe and Seth Rogen/Evan Goldberg’s production team, allowed these teenage turtles to soar. Uniquely animated with a stunning handmade look, imbued with genuine youth and freshness, this film is an absolute blast. It’s gross and hilarious, the characters are crafted with heart and joy, the action is well designed and choreographed, and Reznor/Ross’ score rocks. Any film that can allow me to feel like a kid again without pandering is an absolute win. Plus, NYC has rarely looked so cool in a movie.

(24) American Fiction (Dir. Cord Jefferson)

This is Cord Jefferson’s first film, and there are definitely elements of the work in which that is clear. The ending takes an ambitious approach that doesn’t fully land, and there are issues in the way the film balances its various narrative elements. With that out of the way, the elements that do work in the film far outweigh those that don’t. This is a sharp, incisive, at times brilliantly funny satire of the way race is portrayed in the media and the sort of stories about Black people that white people eat up – and what sells. The film delightfully doesn’t pull its punches. “The dumber I behave, the richer I get” says Jeffrey Wright’s Monk. Monk is the sort of curmudgeonly, sad sack character that Paul Giamatti often plays – in fact, in some ways this movie reminded me of Sideways. Wright is brilliant, so rich and sardonic, and his relationships, both familial and otherwise, round out the movie with deeply rooted humanity. As a portrait of a family falling apart, the film hits notes both tender and relatable, and Sterling K. Brown and Erika Alexander deliver terrific supporting performances.

(23) Bottoms (Dir. Emma Seligman)

Humor is arguably the most subjective element in all of cinema, so when I tell you that Bottoms made me laugh more than almost any other movie this year – you’ll just have to believe me. Director Emma Seligman and writer/star Rachel Sennott find themselves working together again after the fantastic Shiva Baby, and though this is certainly a broader film it possesses the same razor sharp wit and approach to female anxiety. This film utilizes an outlandish and absurd tone perfectly, through which it satirizes the nature of violence, societal treatment of women, and, most cleverly, itself. This film is as smart as it is ridiculous, anchored by perfect comedic turns from Ayo Edebiri and the previously mentioned Sennott. The film’s not-so-secret MVP, though? Marshawn Lynch. The dude is hilarious.

(22) How to Blow Up a Pipeline (Dir. Daniel Goldhaber)

As intense and compelling as any action movie, this is a thoughtful work of climate change agitprop that excels as an ensemble heist thriller. The cast is excellent, both in performance and construction. Each character has a unique and vital perspective and motivation, which allows the film to illuminate the myriad ways in which climate change and our government’s inability to take necessary steps can impact the lives of everyday Americans. The film is tautly and smartly composed; the score, framing, and pacing add raw intensity. It threads a delicate needle so as to never become too preachy. This reminds me of some of the great thrillers of the 1970s, with a little dose of Soderbergh in there for good measure.

(21) John Wick: Chapter 4 (Dir. Chad Stahelski)

What is there to say about the John Wick series at this point that hasn’t already been said? Well, Chapter 4 is an action opus of the highest order. A grand symphony of incredible stunt work and action choreography, composed with gorgeous lighting and camera work. Stahelski and his team continue to try new and increasingly grand approaches to their brand of action cinema, and certain sequences in this film, such as the top down apartment fight, are instantly iconic. The world building, ensemble (Donnie Yen!,) and deliciously melodramatic narrative are a joy to watch unfold. Nobody in America is doing it like John Wick.

(20) Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse (Dirs. Joaquim dos Santos, Justin K. Thompson, and Kemp Powers)

Into the Spider-Verse blew almost everyone away in 2018, showing an approach to both American animation and comic book cinema that felt truly fresh. This sequel continues on that path, expanding the world and taking ambitious swings that pay off beautifully. This film is a stunning work of modern art that stretches the boundaries of animation with immense artistry, imagination, vision, and music. Any frame or sequence from this film could be hung up in the MOMA and it would fit right in. The storytelling expands the world and the ensemble of characters in thrilling ways, telling a deftly written tale of sacrifice, identity, and self-discovery. I can’t wait for the continuation, whenever it may come.

(19) Asteroid City (Dir. Wes Anderson)

By now you should know if you vibe with Wes Anderson or not. I find him to be one of the most delightful and singular filmmakers of our time, and Asteroid City is another visual and aural gem in his ever expanding oeuvre. Immaculately curated in thought and aesthetic, the film’s nesting doll structure is so clever, allowing one of the most emotionally potent narratives of Wes’ career to unfold. It is of course so rich and funny, with an incredible ensemble including many returning Wes Anderson bedfellows and new delights such as Tom Hanks and Margot Robbie. It is Jason Schwartzman, though, who truly shines, and anchors this beautiful exploration of existential dread, grief, and aliens.

(18) The Killer (Dir. David Fincher)

The Killer is a fascinating meditation on David Fincher’s approach to work, his career, and his unique proclivities. It is also a meticulous, calculating, and darkly funny action romp with a hugely charming lead performance from Michael Fassbender. The brilliant sound design and lighting serve to create a hypnotizing tone as the film plays in the John Wick sandbox. I can just imagine Fincher saying, “I can do that too!” In the battle between planned perfection and unintended chaos, it is the audience that ultimately wins. Plus, you know, Tilda Swinton is always a plus.

(17) The Boy and the Heron (Dir. Hayao Miyazaki)

If this truly is Miyazaki’s swan song, he has left us with a work that beautifully passes the torch, suggesting that if enough care, compassion, and empathy are used, younger generations may just be ready to take control. This is one of the most surreal and allegorical films of Miyazaki’s career, and also one of the most mature and beautiful. It is elegiac, gorgeous, and delightfully odd, exploring the nature of time and identity. This film creeps up on you, until it is too late and it has found a place under your skin. I suspect repeat viewings will illuminate even more hidden details and meanings.

(16) Killers of the Flower Moon (Dir. Martin Scorsese)

Although it runs for over 3 and a half hours, I was never able to look away from the screen when I saw Killers of the Flower Moon. It is intoxicating in its darkness and storytelling, and although there are some lingering questions about its perspective and approach, when all is said and done this is a complex and chilling epic from a master. Part western, part crime drama, the film explores a dark rot in America and asks tough questions with integrity. The ending is one of the most brilliant and introspective sequences of Scorsese’s career, perhaps then answering those lingering questions about perspective, or at least making a strong point about them. Every element of the film is terrific – the editing, cinematography, the score, the performances – but it is Lily Gladstone, her expressions and subtle control of every scene, that I will never forget.

(15) Are You There God, It’s Me Margaret? (Dir. Kelly Freemon Craig)

This is a gorgeous adaptation that deepens the characters from the novel, filled with warmth, empathy, and intelligence. A paean to the struggles of adolescence, exploring religion, and understanding identity. Kelly Fremon Craig has cemented herself as the master of the coming of age movie between this and The Edge of Seventeen. There are of course elements I can’t personally relate to, but I found them portrayed with such insight and understanding. Feelings are universal even if the causes are sometimes more specific, and Craig never alienates any audience member from being taken by her film. The entire cast is wonderful, but Rachel McAdams? She brings so much humanity, depth of feeling, and magic to the film.

(14) BlackBerry (Dir. Matthew Johnson)

In a year with multiple films about the creation of products and commercialism, BlackBerry‘s humor, sharp writing, and electric energy won me over in a big way. With both a smart understanding of nerd culture and a deft handle on the “men in suits yelling in offices” subgenre, in many ways the film mirrors Fincher’s The Social Network. It is hugely compelling, with a verisimilitude to the filmmaking craft that allows the film to get away with the ways in which it doesn’t necessarily fully reflect what actually happened. This is a work of fiction inspired by the true story, after all, and co-writer/director Matt Johnson (who also effectively plays Doug Fregin) expands the truth in clever ways that maximizes the film’s intensity and hilarity. It is Glenn Howerton as Jim Balsillie that runs away with the film, a genuinely classic rage-fueled film performance that shows Howerton’s Juilliard trained genius – and his note perfect comedy. It is a devouring, exceptional performance.

(13) Priscilla (Dir. Sophia Coppola)

Priscilla eschews the traditional biopic approach (of course) in favor of a film that puts emotion and a singular perspective first. This is entirely told through Priscilla’s eyes. It’s not a narrative so much as it is a series of vibes, like a cinematic memoir. A classic coming of age story about a woman trapped by love. Cailee Spaeny as Priscilla is sensational, and Jacob Elordi as Elvis is chilling. Coppola’s aesthetic, refined over the last 20 years, and her thematic interests, are perfectly suited to tell this story. Is it accurate? Does it matter? It captures the intangible. It has such rich feeling. It’s beautiful but it just may break your heart.

(12) Dungeons and Dragons: Honor Among Thieves (Dirs. John Francis Daley & Jonathan Goldstein)

Let me get this out of the way right off the bat – I’ve never actually played Dungeons and Dragons, so it’s not even the case that I was in the bag for this movie. That fact in and of itself should serve as a testament to just how damn enjoyable Honor Among Thieves is. In an era when so many big budget tentpole movies seem designed by committee, enter Daley and Goldstein (whose Game Night is one of the best modern studio comedies.) They have crafted a genuinely old fashioned comedy adventure film, filled with a terrific ensemble of lovable rogues and charming villains, a story with actual stakes, well designed and shot action sequences, and a merrymaking, hilarious, and emotional quest through a fantasy land with great world building. This is a classic adventure movie that fires on all cylinders, and I believe it can hold its own with the best of the genre. A joy.

(11) Anatomy of a Fall (Dir. Justine Triet)

Winner of the 2023 Palme d’or (and the Palme dog) at the Cannes Film Festival, Justine Triet’s Anatomy of a Fall is a meticulous and endlessly compelling legal procedural. With every passing second a new piece of information reveals itself, which begs the audience to contemplate the very nature of truth. And what is the truth, particularly in a time where everyone and everything is watching? We can record everything. The news and social media is always watching. We are addicted to true crime stories and attempt to be our own sleuths, sure that we are the only ones that have it all correct. But there are no easy answers, particularly when a marriage is rotting from its core and only those who were actually present can see the little interactions and expressions that may finally illuminate what actually happened. Suddenly, what seemed like a simple French procedural reveals itself to be a psychological thriller with no easy answers and no obvious truths. Sandra Hüller and Milo Machado Graner are riveting, making sure work of the immense amount of dialogue and talking they are tasked with. You cannot look away. You have to know the truth. But at the end of the day, the truth is what lies inside of you, and what you take away from it may be the most personally revealing thing of all.

(10) May December (Dir. Todd Haynes)

May December is Todd Haynes doing his best Almodóvar. I love Todd Haynes, even though I don’t necessarily think that was his intentional approach. Still, the film’s use of melodrama and dark comedy, that almost veers into camp, would fit beautifully alongside films like Volver or All About My Mother. There is a level of discomfort running throughout the film that at times makes it hard to watch, and yet I could not stop. The film rendered me helpless. Haynes and his actors thread the needle perfectly. A character study that becomes a game of cat and mouse, as 3 unique souls circle each other to learn, to manipulate, to question their past choices. The pain method acting can cause. Haynes’ filmmaking is remarkable, the use of mirrors, the framing of faces, the visual metaphor of butterflies, the bold choice to base the score on Michel Legrand’s The Go-Between. Natalie Portman and Julianne more are expectedly fabulous, but it is Charles Melton who steals the film out from under them. A child who was never able to grow up stuck in an adult body, the physicality and emotion bubbling under the surface, a 36 year old finally, perhaps, coming of age.

(9) Oppenheimer (Dir. Christopher Nolan)

It seems so clear that everything Christopher Nolan has been working on in his career has been leading up to Oppenheimer. It makes a fascinating counterpoint to The Prestige and in both character and structure owes a debt of gratitude to Milos Forman’s Amadeus. The film is an emotionally and structurally complex tale of the depths and consequences of human intelligence – and obsession. Immaculately performed with Cillian Murphy and Robert Downey Jr. leading an ensemble for the ages, it is a historical drama paced like a thriller. Conversations are the action. It crackles with intensity, Ludwig Göransson’s stunning score, and unforgettable imagery. It is also delightfully and vitally Jewish, an aspect I’m glad was handled so well. I wouldn’t blame you if you need a drink and a smoke after watching the film. It will sit with you, haunt you, and leave your mind buzzing with the implications of human creation, the potential weight of new technology, and the consequences of violence, death, and war.

(8) The Holdovers (Dir. Alexander Payne)

Almost 20 years ago, Alexander Payne and Paul Giamatti worked together on Sideways (the 2nd mention of that film on this list!) a film I love deeply. Now, in The Holdovers, the two have teamed up again for a film similar in both tone and spirit. It’s hard not to see at least a little of Miles in Paul Hunham, the pedantic, sardonic, and angry lovable loser that Paul Giamatti so perfectly creates in this film. He is matched quite equally by newcomer Dominic Sessa and Da’Vine Joy Randolph, who brings immense empathy, warmth, and palpable grief to her role. The 3 form an unlikely but vital trio as the holiday season and classic 70s tunes and period detail fill the frame like a cozy blanket. But! The film is also sharp and cutting, with an amazing array of witty barbs, bon mots, and foul language. Perhaps, though, we are all just hiding our pain and loneliness underneath a sarcastic surface. This is one I think will fold very nicely into many people’s Christmas movie rotation.

(7) Rye Lane (Dir. Raine Anne Miller)

I have often reflected on how the romantic comedy is all but dead in modern cinema, at least the very traditional romantic comedy (think Meg Ryan or Julia Roberts) and thus when a good one comes along it is cause for celebration. When a great one comes along? One that serves not only as a great romantic comedy but a vivid, fresh, contemporary, delightfully alive work of moviemaking? Hand me the confetti canon – it’s time to celebrate. Rye Lane is that movie. The amount of sheer, overwhelming joy this movie brings me is nearly unparalleled. It takes as much inspiration from Before Sunrise as it does Notting Hill, while also exploring a neighborhood and a culture that feels relatively untapped in cinema. Its depiction of two young Black people walking and talking in South London, getting to know each other, exploring their past breakups and their dreams, is almost revelatory. Raine Allen-Miller instills such verve and energy to the film. The stylistic approach manages to be both patient and zany, with a winking all-knowing approach to the humor and visual gags that is absolutely hilarious. And rest assured, this film is visually stunning. But ultimately it is the performances of David Jonsson and Vivian Oparah that make this film soar. They are so natural, so empathetic, and so charismatic that they feel like real people that you and I might know. It is the absolute lack of artifice in their chemistry and their choices as actors that allows the magic of Rye Lane to linger in your head for days, producing a massive smile that simply refuses to quit. 

(6) Godzilla Minus One (Dir. Takashi Yamazaki)

This movie knocked me out. Don’t get me wrong, I thoroughly enjoyed 2016’s Shin Godzilla, Toho’s most recent live action Godzilla movie, but when I sat down to watch Minus One I had no expectations and a clear mind. What a pleasant way that is to watch a movie, especially one you end up falling in love with. On the surface, this is a thrilling and rousing kaiju film, with excellent sequences of monster mayhem and destruction. It manages to make Godzilla terrifying again, something I haven’t felt in a very long time. Couple that with a terrific use of score and sound and superbly executed and shot action, and you already have a winning formula. But Minus One has far more on its mind. The film draws its characters so well and through them explores the after affects and trauma of war and the nature of survivor’s guilt. It is emotional and invigorating, led by a solid lead performance from Ryunosuke Kamiki, and brings to mind films as far and wide as Jaws and Dunkirk. Godzilla was originally created as a metaphor for nuclear weapons in World War II and in this film, the Japanese government and its treatment of soldiers and assets during the war is directly critiqued. It is a fascinating intellectual through line from the original Godzilla in 1954 to where we are today. Who knew a Godzilla film could or would make me cry?

(5) The Iron Claw (Dir. Sean Durkin)

A punch to the gut. A single leg takedown. A suplex. The Iron Claw. This film, written and directed with immense control and raw emotion by Sean Durkin, hits as hard as the best wrestling moves. The story of the Von Erich family is absolutely devastating. They were cursed. They suffered unimaginable pain and loss. The film explores the tragedy of the American dream and the detrimental impact of toxic masculinity. “I used to be a brother,” says Kevin Von Ehrich, so remarkably portrayed by Zac Efron. He of High School Musical fame, who I have always enjoyed, is authentic, vulnerable, powerful, and absolutely jacked. It is the performance of his career thus far, and suggests that there are still untapped layers inside Efron. He is complimented by a fantastic ensemble that sell the honesty and pain of this film in a uniquely powerful way. This movie is fun until it isn’t, and illuminates the wrestling world in a way no other narrative film I can think of has. It doesn’t pull any punches, nor should it. An existential, deeply sad, exhilarating sports story that immediately enters the canon of similar classics.

(4) All of Us Strangers (Dir. Andrew Haigh)

I sat in my seat as the credits began to roll and could not move. The weight of what I had just witnessed began to take hold. Tears quietly streamed down my face. Andrew Haigh, whose Weekend is such a seminal work of modern queer cinema, returns to that well once again, taking inspiration from Taichi Yamada’s 1987 novel Strangers. The film is gorgeous, devastating, and immensely intimate. It explores the profound nature of love and grief, and how we cope and remember. Memories are fleeting and fascinating, and there are always ghosts around us. Andrew Scott has to portray so many different facets, tapping back into childhood wonder, into love and grief and longing, into loneliness and romance. It is a performance that could’ve been false or artificial in the wrong hands, but Scott is simply perfect. Under the immaculate control of Haigh, he takes audiences on a vast emotional journey. Paul Mescal, Jaime Bell, and Claire Foy are exquisite as well, lending strength and support. This broke me apart, and perhaps gave me the strength to put myself back together again.

(3) Barbie (Dir. Greta Gerwig)

When Barbie released over the summer, I saw the film 8 times in theaters. I wrote an article about it on my old blog that utilized thousands and thousands of words. Here, a snippet of my introduction: “… There’s far more at play than just the gorgeous practical sets and effects, the fabulous use of colors, the sharp self-aware humor, the performances, and the musical numbers (!). As if that wouldn’t already be enough? Dayenu! This is a film rich with theme and feeling, and one that has had me evaluating and contemplating societal standards and expectations, the nature of my own identity and the identities people ascribe to themselves, the way humans treat other people, gender roles, and the disappointing fact that more movies don’t have their actors break into song. It has left a profound emotional impact on my soul, a fact that I’m still reckoning with considering this is a film based on a children’s doll.” It’s also a damn great comedy, and perhaps the most purely entertaining movie of the year.

(2) Past Lives (Dir. Celine Song)

The intimacy that can be achieved through glances and subtle moments. The impact of using silence as a cinematic tool. So much can be said without anything being said at all. Every frame is injected with a palpable sense of longing and the notion of “what if?” Playwright Celine Song’s debut film sat with me all year. It resonated on a nearly primal level. It feels so specific, with so many cultural South Korean details and such a great understanding of a very particular academic New York. The Korean notion of In-Yun, whereas there is an element of fate to our lives inspired by past lives we have lived and what we may have meant to each other in those past lives, is an oddly comforting notion that resonated profoundly within my own worldview. The trio of actors at the center (Greta Lee, Teo Yoo, and John Magaro) seem almost as one, their approach and tone so connected and personal. Our faces convey our truths, whether we like it or not. We cannot hide. The film feels so authentic, allowing the specific to become universal, and that makes for an overwhelmingly passionate and romantic experience. But what if? What if, what if, what if? What if we had made different choices? What if we had dated someone else? What if we hadn’t moved to this city? How different would our lives be? The best art leaves us with questions that sit with us and make us reflect inward. Past Lives is grace and love and longing, and it won’t soon leave my mind.

(1) Poor Things (Dir. Yorgos Lanthimos)

What defines our humanity, both on an individual level and as an entity trying to fit into society? How can we achieve both intellectual and body autonomy? Is our sense of self-identity created and forced onto us by others or are we able to go on our own personal journey and actually find ourselves? How does sex and pleasure play into all of this? Bella Baxter, fearlessly played by a never better Emma Stone, is the character of the year. She is a creation, but she is allowed to find herself. Her coming of age, as it were, is an overwhelming voyage, written with immense clever wit by Tony McNamara, crafted with imagination and vibrancy and a bold steampunk inspired aesthetic by Yorgos Lanthimos, and produced and guided every step of the way by Stone. No film this year delighted or tickled me more, made me laugh harder, inspired as much introspection. It is bawdy, joyous, glorious. Every aspect of the production is immaculate – the score, the production design and cinematography, the performances of the ensemble – but when all is said and done, I will still be laughing about wanting to punch a baby, and wondering how exactly I intend to define my own sense of self and fit into the world. What a thing.