2025 Year in Review

Did anyone have a good 2025? I certainly didn’t, nor did anyone I know, as far as I can tell. But I did some work that I’m proud of, talked with a lot of wonderful people, and saw quite a few movies that I dug.

Below are links to the highlights of my work at Entertainment Weekly this year, and below those is my top 25 movies of 2025 recap. Included are interviews with Jeff Bridges, Eddie Murphy, Rian Johnson, Kathy Bates, David Fincher, Keke Palmer, Pete Davidson, Dave Franco, Bill Skarsgård, Bobby Moynihan, Paul Walter Hauser, Bobby Lee, Russell T. Davies, Ncuti Gatwa, Domee Shi, Madeline Sharafian, Jason Ritter, Skye P. Marshall, Jennie Snyder Urman, Tony Kaye, Vito Schnabel, Matt Selman, Debbe Dunning, and The Wiggles.

Thanks for reading as always, and may 2026 bring better things.

The Top 25 Movies of 2025

Weird year for movies! A lot of my favorite directors and actors made projects that were surprisingly disappointing in one way or another, which leaves my list of 2025 favorites looking very different than I anticipated at the beginning of the year. Ordinarily I group these into pairs or trios but I’m working with 25 movies this year…so here’s five groups of five.

If I Had Legs I’d Kick You / Train Dreams / Bring Her Back / Sirât / Die My Love

Five of 2025’s most emotionally engrossing and viscerally upsetting movies are heartbreaking parenting sagas, hinging on protagonists driven to despair after enduring extreme hardship and tragedy. These movies are each harrowing in their own ways, forcing you to sit in the discomfort of beholding desperate parents on the brink of collapse.

Mary Bronstein’s second feature casts Rose Byrne as the mom at the end of her rope. That’s really all there is to it, apart from elite supporting performances from Conan O’Brien and A$AP Rocky. I cannot remember the last time I was this stressed out by a movie (complimentary). It renders motherhood as an experience that’s more intense and terrifying than anything in a horror movie. Byrne delivers the performance of a lifetime not because of any specific standout emotional moments but because she’s so unafraid to be an unsympathetic mess, and because the the movie is also perfectly in sync with her energy. She can be cruel, self-destructive, and selfish, but we’ll never fully lose her sympathy because her circumstances are so exhausting and demoralizing to experience alongside her.

This one is a swift, beautifully photographed portrait of a rapidly changing world through the eyes of one pretty simple dude. I found it more entrancing than basically anything else I’ve seen this year. Its images are basically all sunsets and lush forests and family photos, which means basically every frame is as pretty as can be. The Bryce Dessner score and the Will Patton narration both elevate those images with a poetic sense of wonder, and the steady pace with which the movie moves from moment to moment feels a lot like Boyhood, in that every leap forward brings a pang of loss for the chapters that have closed for both the main character and the broader world that he inhabits. The underlining and bolding of every emotional beat might not hit for some, but as a sucker for basically anything about the passage of time, this totally worked its magic on me.

After the Philippou brothers threatened to give me several heart attacks with their debut Talk to Me…they did it again with their second movie, which centers on Sally Hawkins as a mom embarking on a horrifying quest to resurrect her daughter. I watched more of this movie through my fingers than anything else in recent memory. It’s full of incredibly upsetting imagery and unpleasant atmosphere throughout, with several excellent performances from very young actors completely selling the pain, tension, and desperation of the quickly worsening circumstances.

It’s best to enter Sirât with as little information as possible. It has two modes: hypnotic hangout drama and harrowing thriller. I am not sure how well it weaves those two modes together, but I suspect that the tension between them is not an accident, and the broad strokes of both modes successfully capture the tense unpredictability of contemporary life. The cast, mostly of non-actors, delivers stellar performances across the board, too.

Lynne Ramsay (We Need to Talk About Kevin, Ratcatcher) returns with a skin-crawling exploration of post-partum depression. She consistently builds an oppressive atmosphere, and seems to view people as bizarre animals driven by inexplicable instinct and sudden swings in motivation. Jennifer Lawrence has never been better than she is here, as her unpredictable performance brings out the latent darkness that’s lurking under the surface of her previous work. She basically always plays an aggressive smartass, but here her usual sarcasm and clapbacks signify a fundamental disconnect with humanity. And she’s utterly transfixing in her nonverbal scenes, often feeling more like an untamable force of nature than a human being.

One Battle After Another / The Secret Agent / It Was Just an Accident / Kiss of the Spider Woman / Avatar: Fire and Ash

This set of films all grapple with the consequences of revolution and resistance, as their characters’ righteous acts come back to haunt them, often after years of paranoia and anxiety. They’re also all reflections on how political action and interpersonal relationships are fundamentally and messily intertwined.

(This blurb first appeared in EW’s Top 10 Movies of the Year list)

After making five period pieces in a row, Paul Thomas Anderson returns to the present day for the first time since 2000’s Punch-Drunk Love, and it’s hard to imagine a studio film more attuned to the dynamics of living in the United States in 2025. The movie follows an ex-revolutionary (Leonardo DiCaprio) who desperately tries to reunite with his teen daughter (Chase Infiniti) after an old enemy (Sean Penn) reemerges to tie up some unfinished business. Anderson pits his heroes against white supremacists, immigration raids, right-wing militias, and crappy cell phones as they struggle to reconnect. It’s a propulsive, timely thriller in which every performance is memorable, every scene is wildly entertaining, and every character is driven by a distinct balance of love and ideology. Life!

The latest from Brazilian auteur Kleber Mendonça Filho is a lovely and heartbreaking portrait of a pretty good guy at a pretty bad time. It builds a beautiful community of dissidents and refugees against a backdrop of a lively, colorful city where danger could be lurking around every corner. Wagner Moura gives a brilliant performance as an unassuming man who’s slowly consumed by an oppressive regime, and basically all of his anxiety and dread is communicated through silence and stillness. And Evgenia Alexandrova’s cinematography is among the prettiest of the year.

Jafar Panahi’s Palme D’or-winning drama is an urgent, thoughtful exploration of morality, revenge, and cyclical violence in the wake of extreme cruelty. It’s primarily concerned with one of the most universal ethical questions — what is right after we have been wronged? — but also has immense specificity and a degree of empathy for everyone involved. It does eventually clarify one extremely important detail that it seemed like it would leave ambiguous, and I’m not entirely sure what to make of that decision after first watch. But its purpose is clear and the performances are uniformly great.

A romantic movie musical set during a revolution that, fittingly, is about the thorniness of romance, movies, musicals, and revolutions, as well as the messiness of all of those things colliding. There’s an immediate tension to the stark contrast between the grimy prison drama of the main story and the oversaturated musical sections, not all of which is intentional — the movie-within-a-movie scenes all feel somewhat off-kilter when compared to the era of classic Hollywood musicals it’s trying to replicate, though it has a decent excuse for their wonkiness since they’re a more modern memory of those kinds of setpieces rather than a straightforward recreation of them. (Also, I commend Bill Condon for shooting all of them in such a way that clearly shows all of the choreography!! Why is this so hard for so many others!!) But all of that tension, both intentional and unintentional, makes the movie more involving, and only adds to its complicated relationship with the idea of movies as opiates for the masses vs. the power of escapism and representation. Jennifer Lopez is good and Diego Luna is GREAT. I appreciate how many big questions this movie is willing to ask without providing clear answers.

I was not into The Way of Water because I don’t really care about painstaking efforts to create digital water (congratulations, it looks like water), but this third Avatar totally landed for me, and I can’t really explain why. There’s just so many ridiculous details and ambitious thematic ideas stuffed in here that I can’t help but respect it. The work of a madman who wants to make sweeping, confounding statements on colonialism, race, environmentalism, spirituality, and family while also delivering insane sci-fi spectacle that includes tattooed whales, crab mechs, trans-species evolution, flammable organic balloons, and the best blue-beam-in-the-sky standoff of the last 20 years. And I suddenly really love Jake Sully, Spider, Quaritch, and basically everyone else after feeling largely indifferent toward them in the previous entries.

28 Years Later / Wake Up Dead Man / Superman / Sinners / Presence

As American studios continue to prioritize franchise filmmaking and genre movies, many of our finest living directors are increasingly working within those confines to create some of their most personal work while simultaneously delivering populist crowd-pleasers. These were the most exciting action/horror/mystery movies of the year, and they all speak to our contemporary moment and reflect the concerns and priorities of the filmmakers who crafted them.

Danny Boyle’s zombie sequel 28 Years Later is the kind of thing everyone should aspire toward if they’re in a position to make a franchise movie. The cinematography is among the greatest in recent memory, with countless stunning compositions and beautiful color grading — and the audacious choice to shoot on iPhones gives every sequence a strong sense of immediacy and urgency. The editing is also bananas, with rapid-fire cutting that includes archival footage that makes the whole thing feel like scrolling through social media (in a good way). And it’s all in service of a profound, unusual story about death, survival, and empathy that builds several distinct fascinating worldviews within the wasteland.

The latest in the Knives Out series might be the strongest entry so far. This is the first time that Rian Johnson has imbued one of his cinematic mysteries with a degree of emotion and thematic thoughtfulness that matches the complicated puzzlebox construction of the murder itself. It’s a solemn, earnest investigation (ha) into the ways that faith can tear people down and lift them up, and how communities can be joined together by either approach. Out of the three Benoit Blanc movies, this one is best equipped to address contemporary American life because it dives into the complexity of the dynamics at play — assholes manipulating their followers into melting their brains with fear and distrust, while better people quietly try to hold society together — and maps those dynamics onto a small community rather than literally depicting an Elon Musk stand-in. This might be Johnson’s most powerful work, largely thanks to Josh O’Connor’s ridiculously charismatic and nuanced performance.

This achieves something that should be impossible: it’s simultaneously the superhero movie that feels the most like reading a comic book (in terms of tone, pacing, and sheer volume of insane events occurring that seldom faze the characters, leading to a sense that anything is possible) AND the superhero movie that feels the most concerned with the real world as it exists in the moment that the movie was released. We’ve got evil billionaires pulling the strings in strikingly familiar international conflicts (and slightly less evil billionaires arming the “good guys”), a persistent awareness of the internet and its effects on public opinion, a handful of principled journalists struggling to be heard in a fearmongering media landscape, and flippant risk-taking by a select few that threatens the entire world for almost no reason. It’s also heartwarming to witness the arc of James Gunn’s career (and maturity) as he went from juvenile edgelord to surprise off-the-wall blockbuster mastermind who maximized the potential of D-list characters but often undercut his strong emotional storytelling impulses with ill-timed comedy — and then finding the underdog/outsider angle to the most mainstream prototypical superhero by emphasizing the radical goodness of the protagonist and letting the most earnest moments ring out triumphantly.

After making three excellent franchise blockbusters in a row (Creed and the two Black Panthers), Ryan Coogler returns with his first original movie since his debut Fruitvale Station, now with all the bold, maximalist spectacle that he picked up from his time elevating the Marvel sandbox and the Rocky universe. It’s a vampire-blues-thriller-romance-horror-musical drama that doubles as a thoughtful meditation on artistry, legacy, assimilation, and community. It’s got tons of nuanced characters, a propulsive soundtrack, a gorgeous visual aesthetic, and one of the best one-take scenes I’ve ever seen in my life. And it plays even better on second watch! Coogler should do whatever he wants for the rest of his career, which I hope is incredibly long.

A formal exercise that proves its worth within about five seconds. Steven Soderbergh’s dip into horror takes place entirely from the point-of-view of a ghost haunting a family home, and that POV gimmick is more than enough to hang a stage-y little horror movie on, with dizzying camera operation that forces the audience into a level of personal investment into the proceedings that’d be otherwise impossible. It calls the inherent voyeurism of watching movies into question, putting viewers in a unique position to reflect on the ethics and discomfort of peering into other people’s lives while also embracing the thrill and catharsis of feeling like we’ve somehow affected the outcome as we root for some characters, against others, and whisper “don’t go in there!” under our breath. And the thorny family dynamic on top of the whole thing makes for a particularly fascinating character tension that isn’t too common in any genre, including horror.

The Wedding Banquet / Sorry, Baby / Splitsville / Is This Thing On? / Black Bag

These five movies all revolve around the messy, beautiful complexity of relationships, both romantic and platonic. They all adeptly manage their tones, with unique configurations of off-kilter humor, nauseating dramatic tension, and unexpected moments of sweetness and pathos as the central figures struggle to live with each other and themselves.

Andrew Ahn’s remake of Ang Lee’s rom-dram centers on a lovely, multifaceted friendship between two queer couples (Kelly Marie Tran and Lily Gladstone + Bowen Yang and Han Gi-chan) that takes several potentially life-changing turns that could bring them together or force them apart. I can’t remember another movie with this many poignant conversation scenes where the characters continually surprise you. Tran and Gladstone both give astoundingly natural, emotive, complex performances that builds to a bold climactic confrontation that has to be seen to be believed.

Eva Victor directs, writes, and stars in their feature debut, which revolves around an ambitious academic processing the fallout of a horrifying sexual assault. It’s one of the most sensitive movies I’ve seen in years, as its central trauma is handled with gentleness, patience, confusion, and frustration, embracing the non-linear progression of healing and finding countless ways to still appreciate the beauty of everyday life. Victor is incredibly honest (and funny!) in front of and behind the camera, and all of the supporting actors are consistently charming and low key. You wouldn’t expect a movie about this subject to be so lovely.

This ridiculously goofy rom-com from Michael Angelo Covino and Kyle Marvin stars the filmmakers as competitive friends whose lives implode several times over when one of them sleeps with the other’s wife. It mines a ton of stupid, laugh-out-loud humor from complicated people being both sweet and terrible to each other, with several great performances, snappy dialogue, clever structure, and, bizarrely, one of the best fight scenes of the year.

After the dismal disappointment of Jay Kelly, I’m glad somebody made a good Noah Baumbach movie this year. Despite being marketed as a movie primarily concerned with the plight of standup comedians, Bradley Cooper’s third directorial effort is actually a thoughtful, honest, well-written marriage drama, featuring a solid Will Arnett and an excellent Laura Dern struggling to salvage their on-screen marriage and pursue professional passion. It’s also fascinating to see Cooper intentionally trying (and kinda failing) to become a less self-conscious artist but still adding layers of in-your-face quasi-prestigey flourishes…and playing a character named Balls.

Steven Soderbergh is the only director with two entries in this year’s list (see also: Presence), and it’s absolutely preposterous how high-quality his output is considering he makes an average of two movies per year. This one is a tightly-executed thriller that also plays out like modern-day Clue set in the world of British espionage. It boasts brisk, energetic work from everyone involved — a near-perfect little machine of a movie playfully grappling with morality, loyalty, and manipulation as people’s personal and professional priorities can’t help but intersect.

No Other Choice / Highest 2 Lowest / Cloud / Caught Stealing / Marty Supreme

Each of these crime thrillers is headlined by an exceptional lead actor playing a crafty antihero who continually tries to con, muscle, negotiate, or stumble his way through the city in relentless pursuit of a nearly-impossible goal. All of these movies contend with how greed, class, and ego inform questionable decisions with devastating consequences.

Park Chan-wook maintains his status as one of the greatest visual stylists alive, and here deploys his in-your-face visuals to craft perhaps his funniest movie to date: a pitch-black comedy about a family man who decides that he must arrange a series of murders to advance his career in the paper industry. Lee Byung-hun is incredible as a sociopathic doofus who nonetheless brings a degree of empathy to his protagonist’s ridiculously awful misdeeds, and every member of the supporting cast leaves a memorable impression with multiple moments to shine. It’s a hilarious and heartbreaking send-up of contemporary capitalism that highlights how competition and automaton are melting everyone’s brains. And it has the courage that most contemporary crowd-pleasers lack to leave you feeling icky about its characters, and even indicts the conditions necessary for artists to thrive.

In its finest moments, this reinterpretation of Akira Kurosawa’s High & Low is electrifying as anything Spike Lee and Denzel Washington have ever been involved in. It puts its characters into difficult moral positions, and the questions it asks and the conclusions that it ultimately draws are pretty confounding. I’m not sure this movie even knows what it’s saying (or what it wants to say) about wealth, power, class, and morality, but its confusion compels me. And these guys combining their powers can seemingly turn any material into pure cinematic poetry. The power and rhythm and magnetism of Denzel’s line delivery coupled with Spike’s stylistic indulgence and visual experimentation — there may not be any greater alchemy in contemporary film, to the point where it transcends whatever the content or message of the material may be.

Kiyoshi Kurosawa’s latest starts as a slice-of-life drama about a painfully mediocre reseller who barely experiences an ounce of joy and shrugs off the potential moral questions of his middleman business. About halfway through, it suddenly segue into a propulsive, surprisingly violent thriller where there’s an entire league of dudes who have it even worse than the protagonist and have been radicalized by persistent misfortune. It’s a pretty damning exploration of the ways that the digital economy has transformed the world to create new ways to pit fairly normal people against one another that seems to sympathize with everyone without actually justifying anyone’s extreme decisions, leading to a gripping shootout where you don’t actually want any of these guys to suffer or die (except for one, I guess). I think we need to unplug the internet forever.

Darren Aronofsky’s least-self-serious movie to date is still far darker and heavier than its marketing might have led you to believe. Basically all of the humor is in the trailer, and every other moment is much grimmer and more upsetting than you’d expect from the advertising (in a good way!). It’s an extremely tense chase caper where basically every character is memorable, every location has a rich sense of dingy charm, and every scene has at least one very clever detail that either sets up or calls back to another moment without making a big deal out of it. And it’s all anchored by what I believe to be Austin Butler’s first actual movie star performance, where his character reflects his natural charisma rather than forcing him into a transformative character actor performance like his previous roles. Just as the real Butler presents himself, his performance/character here is extremely sensitive, passionate, and soulful (and really loves his mom), which puts him in sharp contrast with the grit and cruelty of the rest of the movie — and that tension between the character and his context feels like the entire point of the movie, not some mistake or miscalculation in casting.

This gonzo ping pong thriller-dramedy is a pretty perfect union of leading man and filmmaker. It’s the closest Timothée Chalamet has come to giving a Movie Star performance because the character is so consistent with (and in conversation with?) his recent off-screen persona of laser-focused, hard-working, out-of-the-box-thinking young man whose relentless ambition and braggadocio makes him simultaneously admirable and annoying. That star persona slots pretty flawlessly into Josh Safdie’s fixation on self-defeating semi-charismatic dirtbags making enemies all over town in an attempt to score. That combination effectively makes the film’s table tennis feel like a not-so-subtle analogue for artistic pursuits, and all of the challenges that Marty faces seem pretty similar to the roadblocks impeding young artists: constantly making concessions to survive, taking crappy gigs that you don’t believe in, sucking up to financiers, struggling to convince the world that your pursuits are valid and worthwhile. And Daniel Lopatin’s score might be my favorite of the year.

Other movies I enjoyed this year: Predators, Good Boy, Roofman, Predator: Killer of Killers, KPop Demon Hunters, The Mastermind, Blue Moon, Nonnas, Friendship, The Naked Gun, Drop, Companion, Together, Eephus, Weapons, The Phoenician Scheme, No Other Land, Sentimental Value, Thunderbolts, Mission: Impossible – The Final Reckoning, Final Destination: Bloodlines, After the Hunt, Freakier Friday, The Smashing Machine, Tron: Ares, The Long Walk, Last Breath, Bugonia, A House of Dynamite, Bugonia, and Hedda.