As Captain E.J. Smith of the RMS Titanic famously said, sometime after when that lady with the baby asked him where she should go after all the lifeboats had launched but just before the band's cello player nobly froze to death with bow in hand: well, sometimes all you can do is laugh.
Long-time followers of this space (and/or my life) may recall that last year's post found my wildly, giddily optimistic, ready to grab my best of the year lists, and by extension, the year to come, by the proverbial horns. One year later, I have to admit that that bull has made like all of the year's most memorable and frustrating villains--international ping-pong boards in Marty Supreme, acne and peer pressure in The (metaphorical) Plague, the (actual) plague in Hamnet--and really knocked my ass for a loop. Call me Jessie Buckley's Shakespearean baby, because I too am ending this movie year dead (...too much? And/or spoilers? Ah, who are we kidding, you have met me and are also not going to watch Hamnet). An unrelenting string of professional setbacks, family catastrophes, and health issues have done their level best to suck the fun out of posting these lists this year, or to keep me from doing them entirely--I really don't have the time for this. Still, like Timothée Chalamet trying to decide whether or not to blow out his five-year-old nephew's birthday candles for him, thus proving that he is actually the most important boy of the day, birthdays be damned, I am going to throw caution and common sense to the winds and take my spotlight today, regardless of the consequences. Like poor Sammy's guitar in Sinners, you are going to have to drag this blog out of my cold dead hands before I don't carve an unreasonable time out of my dumpster-fire schedule to harass you about movies for an hour or two. And hey, if we're playing by Sinners rules, hands that are cold and dead can still make valuable contributions to society and have plenty of fun on the way. The Sinners vampires have their black mass, Amy Madigan's Weapons witch has her little bell and a can-do attitude, and I have this blog and a few hours to (not really) spare. Matches made, if not in heaven, somewhere where everyone still get a kick out of the proceedings, regardless of the rising body count.
As happens with suspicious frequency, the narrative of my year tends to map all too neatly onto my moviegoing year--perhaps not too suprising this year, as my "I have had too much going on and still live more than two hours away from a decent movie theater" storyline has translated into "I have not seen that many movies recently." And it's true: from last year's near-record of 101 movies at press time, I am sitting here in March on a paltry 76 movies. What's more (and more upsetting), I'm not sure how much I actually love any of them. I've got absolutely no idea which movie I'm going to name as the best of the year, but it's not like in previous years in which I've fallen in love with too many movies and can't decide which ravishing celluloid gentleman will earn my rose. This year, I just never fell head-over-heels in love with anybody. Sure, there are movies that I really admired--with reservations--and movies that I loved unconditionally--despite who they were as people. Maybe this movie year, like 2025, is one that I'm keen to put behind me. Or maybe I just missed too many movies? In my head, I might have just seen everything involved with The Testament of Ann Lee and casually slotted in the #1 spot unseen, and then I missed its one-week middle of the country pity release due to Circumstances, and have thus been left bereft and scrambling to replace the weird folk musical that I fell in love with in my head but could never match in reality. Isn't that always the way?
Still, I don't want to spend the entire time on a down note--just look at what's coming next! In 2026, I've only seen four movies, but three of them could easily feature into this year's top 20 had they been released earlier, and we've still got an embarrassment of riches coming down the pike. Steven Spielberg! Terrence Malick! Greta Gerwig! Robert Eggers! Ryusuke Hamaguchi! David Fincher! Cristian Mungiu! Jane Schoenbrun! An actual-ass Godzilla sequel! Another Christopher Nolan movie for me to preemptively claim looks dumb and bad and I hope Matt Damon has diarrhea today, just because! 2026 looks to be an absolute feast of cinematic riches that I can't wait to have in front of me, and I remain with the hope that 2026 the calendar year has the same riches in store for all of us.
...Check back in a year to laugh with me about that optimism after the coming apocalypses, I guess!
As is (now) the norm, I'll continue with my vaguely more streamlined effort, which I will have to eventually stop announcing as new; it's the way I've done it for the last four years running, which basically makes it canon from here on out. Time is precious, and I am already risking much (kind of) (how much is a PhD worth, anyway?) by taking this much of my time and yours, so I'll try to keep things a little more brief. This also means that I'll be copy-pasting my letterboxd reviews into this post, if I have them, so you are bound to see some repetition if you already follow me there. And if you don't, however am I to respect you as a person? Kidding (probably), but seriously--get Letterboxd! It's fun, breezy, and, for a social media site, delightfully light on Nazi propaganda. Make an account, find me <a href="https://letterboxd.com/jkuster/">here</a>, and spend the rest of your year weeping in joy and thanks.
So here's how we'll proceed: rather than listing all 76 movies I've seen this year (see above re: time, dire consequences), just ask if a movie you love is missing from these lists. Either I haven't seen it or I want to talk about why you liked it more than I did! I'll list my top 20 movies, the five worst ones, and the best scenes of the year, all accompanied by enough weight of enough careless typos and oversights to crush your average dissertation advisor (or so I've been told more than once). I am, despite myself and despite the ramifications of me taking the time to do all this, excited, and I hope you're excited too! If not, feel free to lie to us both about it, because you're here, which means you're in for the long haul, which means you've nothing to do but strap in and hope that whatever fresh hell I (and reality) am about to unleash upon you is at least funny.
Honorable mentions: though they didn't make my top 20, I'm still grateful for the theater kid mania of Griffin in Summer, the dead-eyed exhaustion of The Long Walk, and the full-tilt commitment and horrors of If I Had Legs, I'd Kick You.
20. Twinless (dir. James Sweeney)
Obviously, we all have spec scripts on our computers that we've written as an excuse to make Dylan O'Brien kiss us, but if I knew that someone was handing out money for them, I might have pushed mine a little harder. Maybe the kind of movie that's more rewarding to think about afterwards than it is to watch, but I have thought about it an awful lot in the months since I've seen it. And I can't be too critical of something that so perfectly captures the only two extremes of emotion (sharing a giddy car singalong with a person you love and then watching them do the same thing with someone else while you sit forlornly in the backseat).
(on hulu, rentable)
19. Plainclothes (dir. Carmen Emmi)
Really impressed by this one, the way its own aggressive surveillance of itself lashes out like a snapped piano string--a pincushion collage of a movie that refuses to let you embrace it too much, even in its biggest moments. Even that unbelievably romantic theater meet-up is followed a half-second later by a description of murdered kids and queer prosecution. Nothing gets to breathe, and why should it? A whole movie created around waiting for a grenade to explode after it's been rolled under your feet.
(rentable)
18. Sentimental Value (dir. Joachim Trier)
Compressions of time, history, and memory (but is there any difference between any of those?) that matter most when people are looking at each other, or maybe when they refuse to meet each other’s eyes. Quiet, lived-in work tempered by some bits that are slightly less so (any movie that involves an older character clutching their heart and then lunging for a bottle of pills in the first fifteen minutes earns a demerit or two, and then another for lingering on the giant metaphorical crack in the house), but the cast is on fire. Happy to say that I actually barked with joy at those birthday dvds—every child’s life can be improved with an early and enthusiastic introduction to Michael Haneke. I guess he was saving Benny’s Video for middle school?
(rentable)
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17. The History of Sound (dir. Oliver Hermanus)
Should probably come as no surprise to anyone that I was wildly moved by the queer movie about folk songs and World War One. Oliver Hermanus still one of the preeminent painters with texture and light, Josh O'Connor still wielding one of the most open faces on the screen right now, counterpointed by Paul Mescal, who looks so constantly surprised and wounded to find himself open at all. Simultaneously frail and hardy, like a recording of someone's emotions pressed into wax.
(rentable)
16. Marty Supreme (dir. Josh Safdie)2025 might go down as the (movie) year for me in which aesthetics and experience never quite lined up. There were multiple moments in this movie that had me transfixed, eyes falling out of my head at the idea that humans could make things that look and sound like this, but I honestly can't tell if I actually care about what it was all serving. Maybe? Probably? Sometimes? Hard to say. Worth noting that a) any moments of real greatness in this are heavily indebted to the score and the production design, both creating and breathing life into this world at a level that nothing else onscreen can quite reach, b) holy *shit* is this a great movie for faces, and c) it's probably best to give Timmy the Oscar now so that he can stop making his entire onscreen/offscreen persona about how desperately he needs to be told that he's the world's most special boy and can go back to focusing on being an interesting artist/occasionally exhibiting recognizably human behaviors.
(available on demand, still in some theaters)
15. The Plague (dir. Charlie Polinger)
I booked an appointment with my doctor to talk about my blood pressures ASAP after seeing this.
Moves and sounds just like the upside-down underwater ballets it stages, everything familiar becoming an alien thing in the right unforgiving light. Maybe the year's most unconventional horror movie, and another in a line of movies that makes me so glad I didn't many male friends in middle school.
(rentable)
14. Superman (dir. James Gunn)I'm fundamentally incapable of being impartial about a Superman movie for at least six months after I watched it (still cringing about how many people I told to watch Man of Steel in theaters), but this one's heart's in the right place, and it has so many soft, warm touches (you show me a scene of a defeated Superman hurting in his teenage bedroom and I'll show you what it looks like when someone cries so hard they need medical attention) that I can overlook the James Gunn-ier aspects of it all. Sure, heartbreak may feel good in a place like this, but is there anywhere better to encounter earnest, corny goodness and kindness? Largely about vulnerability in all its forms, and what a neat and important thing it is. Is my enjoyment of this movie based on the fact that ‘The Mighty Crabjoys’ is such a good/dumb fake band name? i mean, not no.
(on Max, rentable)
13. One of Them Days (dir. Lawrence Limont)
This had me at 'tumbleweave,' or, realistically, a lot earlier than that--maybe the funniest movie of the year, one that wears its heart companionably on its sleeve. More movies about friends supporting each other! More mid-range comedies with a strong premise and a great cast! I want the world for Keke Palmer, and I also want an Oscar for Keke Palmer's neon green business/party/violence jumpsuit-dress.
(on netflix, rentable)
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12. Wake Up Dead Man (dir. Rian Johnson)
Probably one of the best, most even-handed and empathetic portrayals of religion I've seen in a long time. It's refreshing to see something both make the case for why people are religious without laughing while still underlining how easy it is to weaponize those feelings. And the mystery is strong too, though it's propped up by how great Josh O'Connor is. But one thing Rian Johnson's Knives Out trilogy has always understood--and executed--that in the best who-dun-its, the why and the how are always more fun than the who. Probably the best of the trilogy? At least the most emotionally satisfying and engaging.
(on netflix)
11. No Other Choice (dir. Park Chan-wook)
Anyone who has tried to get a job post-Covid will nod aggressively as this movie's protagonists looks at his competition for a new job and starts side-eying all the things around him he could use for a light bout of murder. Hilarious, if a little on the nose, satire about getting ahead in a world that isn't terribly interested in what we owe each other, or to ourselves. Designed, shot, edited, and directed for filth--it looks and moves like a candy-striped freight train all too giddy to eat whoever's tied to the tracks. Also makes a strong case for introducing a 'best supporting plant' Oscar categort, because look at those things.
(available on demand)
10. On Becoming a Guinea Fowl (dir. Rungano Nyoni)A dazzling representative for the 'art turning rage into exceptionally dark comedy' subgenre--a thriving one in 2025. Examines the hideous and absurd pretense of covering up abuse to protect a community. It's hard to think of an angrier ending (or full movie) from this year, or one that captures that anger and its community with as much specificity and warmth as this one. You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll scream like a very specific bird in solidarity.
(on Max, rentable)
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9. It Was Just an Accident (dir. Jafar Panahi)
Maybe the real story of the cinematic year is the combination of rage and satire to create a whole movies that make you feel a little queasy? Another movie on this list (and not the last!) that tuns its discontents on the audience full-blast but still manages to make room for some lived-in absurdity amidst all the screaming. The image of a man tied to a tree and the image of a pair of security guards pulling out a credit card reader while demanding their bribe are inseparable from each other: mirror images of impossible situations that arise from trying to live normal lives in authoritarian worlds.
(on hulu, rentable)
8. Happyend (dir. Neo Sora)
Seeking a friend for the end of the world--lovely, warm, painterly with its light, subdued and optimistic about the importance of continuing to be a person as the world marches into oblivion. For as low-key and unassuming as it is, Happyend feels like a mountain by its end, the seemingly inexorable crawls of both 21st century authoritarianism and the ugly process of growing up braided into one fragile and melancholy thread.
(on the Criterion channel, rentable)
7. 28 Years Later (dir. Danny Boyle)
Flows from one moment to the next like a dream you would try to relate the next day, something terrifying followed by something half-speed and beautiful followed by a weird little detour you're going to leave out of the telling because you're not really sure what to do with it followed by something beautiful again, and then Jack O'Connell shows up in a wig and does some martial arts--typical dream stuff. But it all makes perfect sense in the moment, because the only logic it needs is the fact of its existence. Unbelievably neat that Boyle and friends took what could have been a dull-eyed cash grab and handed in something this strange, ambitious, and singular.
(on netflix, rentable)
6. Final Destination: Bloodlines (dir. Adam B. Stein, Zach Lipovsky)
When I first saw this, I assumed it would be better than one or two of the big Oscar movies this year, but I really didn't anticipate it being better than almost all of them. I was completely unprepared for this to be an actually good movie, but so much of it hits. So tightly wound and controlled with some of the best kills of the series and a nasty and incorrigible sense of humor--who knew that seeing someone's prince albert piercing get ripped out was going to bring the world the respite it needed in these monstrous times? Hell, even the human drama works. This movie is kind of a miracle, the closest thing we might ever get to a live-action Looney Tunes movie (if Looney Tunes had buckets of blood), and I feel no remorse whatsoever for ranking it above most of the more ambitious and prestigious movies this year. The heart wants what it wants, and what my heart apparently wanted was a lovely and moving swan song for Tony Todd and a subplot about poor, hapless Paco, the sweet orphaned turtle of our dizziest daydreams.
(on amazon prime, rentable)
5. Caught by the Tides (dir. Jia Zhangke)
Another miracle of a movie, filmed over the course of decades and cobbled together from outtakes from other movies. How does this work as well as it does? Never better than in its first third, a woozy stream of consciousness musical documentary(ish), before it slides into other narrative modes, but I loved it all anyway. Time, memory, and personal/national history laminated into the kind of conversation you could only have at karaoke or with a robot.
(on the Criterion channel, rentable)
4. One Battle After Another (dir. Paul Thomas Anderson)
I have gone back and forth on where to put this one more than any other--more than any movie I've ever had to place on a list, honestly. Probably the most electric movie I will ever have this many reservations about. When it hits the ground, it hits like a goddamn cannon and never stops. Staggering on a craft level, almost impossibly well-constructed with a for-the-ages ability to toggle between different tones and registers without losing a hair of its relentless, madcap pacing, wild (and wildly successful) in its passions and energies. But I'm still not sold on how it approaches some of its characters, the extent to which it understands their fears or motivations, or even wants to engage with either of those things in a way that isn't framed by what they mean for Bob. One exchange, "you think he likes black girls?" "I love black girls! What do you think I'm doing here?", presented as an applause line rather than a writer/director tipping his hand a bit. The movie has thoughts about its villain fetishizing women of color and the idea of revolution, but I still can't quite figure out how self-aware its own fetishization of those people and ideas is. An incredible movie, but makes me feel a little weird more than once.
(on max, rentable)
3. Little Amélie or the Character of Rain (dir. Maïlys Vallade, Liane-cho Han)
I came in fully unprepared for this one--which is maybe the best way to go into a movie--and it knocked me flat on my face. Such a tactile, empathetic, woozy remembrance of things past and an exploration of the ways that remembering things can resurrect them. Hard to think of many movies that approach childhood in such an absorbing and evocative way, or with this level of color and artistry. Possibly a case of the right movie finding me at the right time and punching above its weight, but this hit me how it hit me. I went in just trying to do my Oscars due diligence, and ended up with one of the best movies of the year.
(rentable)
2. Sinners (dir. Ryan Coogler)
Real lightning in a bottle (or a juke joint)--I can't even count the number of times I started smiling at the sheer audacity of it all. Special stuff. The overlays of history, memory, and generational violence draped over genre framework of a good old-fashion vampire music crime period drama siege movie. It's not perfect, but it's so unique, so searing and specific in its worldview, so immaculate in its crafts and so generous with its ensemble, that the flaws that are there hardly seem to matter. If this is the movie that 2025 ends up being remembered for, then it'll be a well-deserved legacy.
(Sidebar: I have never felt more personally called out by a movie than by the fact that one proof of characters' vampirism and newfound evil is that they're suddenly really into folk music.)
(on amazon prime, max, rentable)
1. Weapons (dir. Zach Cregger)
You know what? Screw it--in a year in which it feels like I never truly lost my marbles for a movie, a year in which I had some unshakeable reservations about even my favorite movies (including basically all of the ones on this list so far), I am gonna give the number one spot to the movie that made me smile the most. And that might seem like a strange claim about this incredibly violent horror movie about suburban America's seedy underbelly, a pitch-black satire on the surveillance we enforce on each other in the name of keeping everyone safe, a tongue-in-cheek study in the ways that the most vulnerable members of a community can be exploited to maintain and justify its worse impulses. But this immaculately goofy movie manages to do all that while still being aggressively, profoundly, and intentionally ridiculous on a minute-to-minute basis--and it's still scary! The only movie I've seen this year (or in several years) that can make me shit my pants, bark with joy, and somberly reflect on the contemporary United States in the span of about 30 seconds. It might not be as weighty or ambitious as some of the other movies on this list, but this year I reserve the right to toss weight and ambition into the dumpster in favor of shit-eating joy. And where's it say that laughs and scares can't be weighty and ambitious in the same way that drama and politics are? Or, more accurately, where does it say that those things aren't inextricably tied together anyhow?
(on max, rentable)
And there's that! (He says, actual hours later.) In interest of brevity--and all the encroaching deadlines that threaten to crush me under their gargantuan weight--let's keep moving and dive into the best scenes of the year!
Note: I'll link to a clip where possible.
Note note: I generally avoid choosing endings for this list, but I'll mention if a scene contains big spoilers.
Best Scenes of the Year
10. Call On Me-Warfare
One hell of a cold open, pop-culture kitsch bridging the gaps between sex, the American military industrial complex, and the kids who act on both of those desires. Shame the rest of the movie ends up leaving those thoughts behind. (...Also a shame that this youtuber is so passionate about their Chase Infiniti edit that it covers up the last quarter of the scene, but this is the best video I've got.)
9. Race in the Rain-100 Meters
This fairly standard sports anime decides to go absolutely bonkers with the rotoscoping and guitar for one scene, a race in the rain becoming myth for the characters' presents and futures.
8. Jonathan Bailey Gets to Meet a Dinosaur-Jurassic World: Rebirth
One recurring theme in this list is going to be not-stellar movies punching way over their weight for exactly one scene. Here, for the first time since 1993, a Jurassic Park movie made me feel an actual feeling! I could spend 100 hours watching Jonathan Bailey getting emotional about seeing dinosaurs for the first time. A rare moment of actual-ass majesty in a franchise that has largely given up on the idea of dinosaurs being something that someone would actually want to see.
7. Theater Meet-Up-Plainclothes
Impossibly romantic and woozy, both characters tiptoeing around what they can and can't--or maybe want and don't want--to say or do, coming down on the side of a quick connection right before the movie gets out. Lovely stuff.
(no clip, sorry)
6. Do You Wanna Build a Snow Man?-The Naked Gun
Heaven help me, but I do love a movie that commits to a stupid bit, and this is the most committed and stupid bit I have seen in a long time. A romantic weekend getaway in a ski chalet comes to its obvious and inevitable conclusion. Just watch it.
5. Don't Drink the Water-Until Dawn
The movie around it is kind of atrocious, but there's a perfect five minute short film in the middle, all dopey setup and big-splash practical effects payoff. Don't drink the water!
(Note: despite its contents, this isn't really a spoiler, as the whole movie's about an endless death-loop.)
(Note note: this is super bloody--click at your own risk.)
4. Vampire Black Mass-Sinners
What's better than being trapped in a warehouse by a bunch of vampires? If the vampires are also really passionate about folk music? Kind of deranged, gorgeous, and strange.
(Note: contains spoilers for quite a bit of what happens in Sinners)
3. Car Chase-One Battle After Another
With the constant queasy ups and downs of the hills, OBAA's car chase finale feels like it's unlocked something totally new, a novel way to play with cameras and the landscape for a new kind of car chase. It's good even on a laptop, but this blew my goddamn mind on an Imax.
(spoilers for the end of One Battle After Another)
2. Dinner at the Skyview-Final Destination: Bloodlines
As much suspense and joy as you could plausibly possibly cram into six minutes about dozens of people falling to their death. This movie is so playful in its setups and violence, introducing gory punchline after punchline and piling them all on top of each other like Bugs Bunny at the opera. A display of editing, sound work, and the sheer giddy rush of making movies that you'd be hard-pressed to find from most the Oscar nominees this year.
1. Conjuring Spirits-Sinners
I thought about Final Destination for the top spot, but I can't deny this kind of generational big swing. Centuries of shared culture and history pressed together and let loose, reveling in the sheer joy of creation together. It's pretty stellar work, and I hope Ryan Coogler has been getting at least 18 high fives a day in recognition.
And finally, the worst movies of the year! It doesn't do anyone any good to dwell on negativity, but but there's some giddy catharsis to be found in identifying the things that hurt you and then laughing at them together, leaving them in the Wal Mart bargain bin where they belong. So, in the spirit of moving into 2026 with high spirits and a clean conscience, let's spend a minute laughing at the movies that need to be laughed at. Note that I generally don't go see movies that are supposed to be awful (life is too short and I am too tired), so this can just as easily be seen as a list of most disappointing movies.
The Worst Movies of the Year
5. Beast of War-Whoever let the shark onto that H&M perfume campaign set is definitely going to get fired
4. Until Dawn-One perfect, gonzo scene surrounded by a bunch of glop barely piled into the shape of a movie. Fun practical effects, though!
3. Heart Eyes-totally exhausting and brainless (but not in the fun way). I like Mason Gooding and want to see him succeed, but at what cost?
2. Captain America: Brave New World-Look, I'm just saying that none of this would have happened during Uma Thurman's presidency. It is kind of nice, though, that every Captain America gets a hunky side piece to make googly eyes at.
1. Death of a Unicorn-Somehow, this is an A24 movie? Punishing in Unfortunately, someone wrote Will Poulter and Tea Leoni's names in a summoning circle with blond hair dye and I found myself transported unwillingly into the nearest theater showing this, as per the ancient rite.
And that's it for today! I will be back...sometime? to finish off the next two posts (acting/writing/directing and then craft categories). Sometime between tomorrow and two or three weeks from now, depending on how much I get done/how many more terrible choices I decide to make. Watch this space and see where my priorities lie! In the meantime, what do you think? Is my list too populist? Is Final Destination better than every best picture nominee (it is, and if you don't think so, you should be banned from theaters for the next 9000 years, obviously)? Whatever your picks are, I hope they've brought you some joy. And if this is the fresh hell I've wrought, I suppose there are worse hells (and at least a few of them are nominated for best picture).
