It’s 2023, and movies are finally back. Hollywood has at last reached the point where the effects of the COVID-19 pandemic are barely felt, and the ensuing bounty of film has resulted in one of the best years for the movies in recent memory. This was the year of the Barbenheimer craze that occupied our collective consciousness over the summer months, the year of features ranging from the nostalgic and personal to the unsettling, the harrowing, and the deeply, fantastically odd.
That being said, it would also be inappropriate not to mention the combined writers’ and actors’ strikes over the summer, with members of the WGA and SAG-AFTRA engaging in a collective struggle for better contracts and creative protections from AI. Their labor battle is just as relevant to 2023 in film as any of the movies discussed below, and the art itself should not be separated from the class struggle of the artists and workers who create it.
The ten films listed below, accompanied by a handful of honorable (and dishonorable) mentions, represent a selection of the year’s best (and worst). Far from pretending at an objective list, these are the works that I felt the most personally affected by – the movies that, for whatever reason, I believe are deserving of recognition.
Dishonorable Mentions
Rebel Moon – Part One: A Child of Fire, dir. Zack Snyder
Before we can get to the good ones, however, a few films must first be noted for being exceptionally dismal. My thoughts on Rebel Moon have already been outlined at great length in my review, but suffice it to say that this movie is representative of everything bad within current science fiction filmmaking. It is, without going into too much detail, derivative, lacking in both plot and character, and a purely empty husk of a film. Watch any of the (many) works Zack Snyder’s script lifts material from – just don’t put yourself through this, for your own sake.
Hypnotic, dir. Robert Rodriguez
Cards on the table, I did not see this movie by choice. I experienced it as one of Regal Cinemas’ Monday Mystery Movies and came away from the theater ruminating over the strange, incoherent Ben Affleck-led riff on Inception that had occupied the last two hours of my life. What can one say about Hypnotic? What can one even think about it? It is a movie that defies perception, a movie so bizarre and yet so aggressively mundane, so convoluted and yet so brainless, so simple and yet so impossible to comprehend. Watch it for a laugh, but don’t expect to know what’s going on.
Napoleon, dir. Ridley Scott
No one expected Napoleon to be one of the best comedies of 2023. It may not live up to the expectations set by its ambitious subject matter (covering the life of the titular general and emperor from the French Revolution until his death in 1821), but watching it, it’s hard to think that matters. Ridley Scott seems to take an almost sadistic glee in slandering Napoleon Bonaparte – to such a degree that I, a committed anti-authoritarian, ended up feeling some degree of sympathy for how the film treated its leading dictator – through blatant historical inaccuracies and some of the strangest dialogue in recent memory (You think you’re so great because you have boats!). It’s unnatural, odd, a modern classic in the so-bad-it’s-good genre, and I for one am eagerly awaiting Scott’s promised director’s cut.
Honorable Mentions
Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves, dir. John Francis Daley and Jonathan Goldstein
Listen. This is, by no means, one of the best movies of 2023. It wasn’t even the best movie released in the week it came out. However, I believe it deserves a mention nonetheless. My opinion is, admittedly, biased – as a longtime player of Dungeons & Dragons, there was certainly something exciting about seeing things on the big screen (or, in my case, the airplane screen). But even besides the fan appeal, Honor Among Thieves earns its spot with solid performances, moments of genuinely successful comedy, and a feeling of sincerity and adventure that far too many big-budget modern blockbusters seem to lack. It may not be Oscar-worthy, capital-C Cinema, but it’s a breath of fresh air.
Beau is Afraid, dir. Ari Aster
I’m not sure if I can, in good conscience, recommend Beau is Afraid. It’s certainly not for the faint of heart, or the weak of stomach. It’s uncomfortable, strange, disturbing, three hours long, and made up almost entirely of Ari Aster’s anxiety. It feels almost like a cry for help on behalf of the director, the kind of film where after watching you feel the need to check in on whoever wrote it and make sure they’re okay. Still, Joaquin Phoenix delivers a powerhouse performance, and the movie has a certain surrealistic charm to it. It is, by all accounts, far less of a straightforward horror film than Aster’s other work, and more a deranged odyssey through one man’s fears. It may not make sense, and I can’t quite tell whether or not it’s actually good, but it’s far too interesting to go unmentioned.
Priscilla, dir. Sofia Coppola
Sofia Coppola’s latest film, following the life of Elvis Presley’s titular teenage bride, seems to have flown under the radar in discussions of 2023’s best releases. It’s understandable why – in a year of masterpieces, Priscilla feels a bit overshadowed – but I think it still deserves a mention. This movie is, in many ways, the much-needed antidote to Baz Luhrmann’s Elvis (2022), showing us both the human and the monstrous in a way Luhrmann mostly avoided. Priscilla is uncomfortable and personal, showcasing standout performances from Cailee Spaeny and Jacob Elordi in addition to Coppola’s signature directorial style. Its ending may feel a bit abrupt, but that hardly detracts from an otherwise solid film. Give it a watch if you want to find yourself absolutely hating Elvis, or enjoy a good stylish character study.
Bottoms, dir. Emma Seligman
Fun, dumb, and gay. Bottoms is one of those films that works for those who get it and doesn’t work for those who don’t. Its jokes may not be for everyone – comedy, perhaps more than any other genre, can be incredibly subjective – but this film doesn’t care about that, and neither should you. Bottoms is a classic horny loser teen comedy, in the vein of the early 2000s (minus the homophobia). It doesn’t take itself too seriously, nor should it – Emma Seligman knows her strengths, and leans into them with great effect. The jokes landed, the acting was on point, and I’d gladly go see it again.
10. Anselm dir. Wim Wenders
Anselm is an unusual movie to write about. Exploring the life and works of contemporary German multimedia artist Anselm Kiefer, blurring the line between artwork and documentary, and filmed exclusively for 3D, Wim Wenders’ film is easily one of the year’s most beautiful. Kiefer’s work, and by extension Wenders’ film, prods at the uncomfortability within the German collective psyche, the memory of the Holocaust, and confronts forgetfulness with stark vitriol. Anselm is slow, immersive, and monolithic – the kind of film that demands a theatrical viewing. The sheer scale of Kiefer’s artwork, and the raw emotion of it, is almost tangible through the big screen. Even the technical difficulties present at the theater when I saw it were not enough to dampen the immensity of it all – the abject horror and striking beauty.
9. Asteroid City dir. Wes Anderson
Wes Anderson’s bittersweet sci-fi comedy, dripping with 1950s country-and-western Americana, is a film that had the misfortune of releasing just before this year’s watershed Barbenheimer summer, and as such went sadly overlooked by far too many. Asteroid City has many similarities to Anderson’s other works – dry humor, pastels, and Jason Schwartzman, to name a few – but the film is steeped in such a sense of wonder and melancholy that it becomes uniquely profound. The structuring (a film-within-a-play-within-a-film) and the juxtaposition of hope (extraterrestrial life) with hopelessness (nuclear war) lends it a special quality; not necessarily unique, but certainly moving. Despite the comedic and often absurd styling, its messaging is ultimately a sobering one. At the end of the day, no matter what divinity we discover, we are all still desperately, fundamentally human.
8. Anatomy of a Fall dir. Justine Triet
What at first appears to be a somewhat by-the-books legal drama (albeit a very European one) quickly becomes far more interesting. Justine Triet’s film is almost mechanical in its examination of memory, of recollection, of how the facts are not always as we remember them, and it’s this logical approach to ambiguity that results in such a fascinating experience. Sandra Hüller, Milo Machado-Graner and Messi (the lead, the child, and the dog, respectively) all deliver powerhouse performances worthy of recognition, and as much focus is given to the complex psychology of the films’ human characters as is given to the complex interaction of fact and fiction. Ultimately, it’s this complexity that gives the film its character, and makes it stand out. Anatomy of a Fall is a clever movie, and one whose questions linger long after the two-and-a-half-hour runtime is over.
You can read Jocelyne’s review of Anatomy of a Fall here.
7. The Boy and the Heron dir. Hayao Miyazaki
The Boy and the Heron (or How Do You Live, as titled in the original Japanese) is clearly a deeply personal film for Hayao Miyazaki. As with Asteroid City, the film is bursting at the seams with both childlike wonder and a sense of apocalyptic melancholy, though the films’ similarities are few beyond that. Miyazaki’s film feels almost autobiographical – the writer and director, now in the twilight of his career, reckoning with the legacy of his life, his art, and his country. Fantasy must be set aside for reality, and the world of dreams is just that. In many ways, it’s a story of growing up. As the world crumbled in the final act, I found myself deeply moved. Miyazaki has hit on something special once again, and it’s a fitting swan song to his legendary career.
You can read Malia’ review of The Boy and the Heron here.
6. American Fiction dir. Cord Jefferson
It’s been said before, but American Fiction is in many ways two films. On the one hand, you have the satirical condemnation of the white-liberal mindset, of the pressures for Black creatives to constantly make their work about race, and of the often anti-creative demands placed on artists by the industries in which they operate. On the other, you have the almost understated family drama, the artwork trying desperately to stand on its own outside the white assumptions of what a Black story “should” look like. Cord Jefferson’s film prompts white audience members to think beyond their own racialized assumptions – Jeffrey Wright’s character, an upper-class author from Boston, has far more in common with the NPR-listening, wine-drinking, dinner-party-attending northeastern white liberals than he does with the stereotype of a Black man they expect him to be. It’s a film about art, about hypocrisy, about assumptions, and one that uses its first story to critique assumptions about its second. Give it a watch.
5. Oppenheimer dir. Christopher Nolan
What can be said about Oppenheimer that has not already been written? At this point, you would be hard pressed to find someone who hadn’t heard of Christopher Nolan’s biopic about the invention and construction of the atomic bomb, and its successes have been lauded in countless publications and awards shows. Nolan may have finally figured out how to write characters, at least in the case of Cillian Murphy’s titular portrayal of J. Robert Oppenheimer (though as usual, his female characters remain largely two-dimensional), and the film moves beyond the traditional trappings of a biopic and concludes as a monument to Oppenheimer’s guilt, to the systems that used him and discarded him, and to the sobering knowledge that the nuclear bomb is a genie that can never be put back in its bottle. It is grand and yet personal, electrifying and terrifying – a solid testament to the art of filmmaking.
4. Poor Things dir. Yorgos Lanthimos
Yorgos Lanthimos’ latest release is certainly an odd one. I’ve already explored my thoughts on the movie in depth in my review, but to sum up, Poor Things is a unique and moving odyssey of growth, self-discovery, and sexual liberation. It’s unlike anything I’ve seen before, and its thematic disassembly of the myriad forms of oppression facing Emma Stone’s Bella Baxter (a recently reanimated woman) are ever-present and ever-relevant. Poor Things is fantastical, surreal, beautiful, emotional, strange, disturbing, and oddly heartwarming – certainly not a film for everyone, but absolutely a film for me.
You can read Alex’s full review of Poor Things here.
3. Killers of the Flower Moon dir. Martin Scorsese
Killers of the Flower Moon is a monumental film. Martin Scorsese’s latest entry covers the Osage murders of the 1920s and 30s, one of America’s many forgotten atrocities, and certainly has a shot at being one of this year’s most important films. Much has already been said about Lily Gladstone’s standout performance and Thelma Schoonmaker’s editing, and for good reason – this film is packed with powerhouse turns from nearly all of its cast and creative team. The three-and-a-half-hour runtime streams by, despite the noise made about it at release, and Scorsese’s ending denouement speaks to public consciousness in a way sure to resonate with the viewer. This film is as much about America today as it is about the America of a hundred years ago, with barely a minute wasted – don’t let the length scare you.
You can read Rowan’s review of Killer of the Flower Moon here.
2. The Zone of Interest dir. Jonathan Glazer
The less said about The Zone of Interest, the better. It’s a film that lends itself best to going in without too much knowledge of its own artifice – allowing yourself to linger in the discomfort, squirm in your seat, yearn desperately for a denied catharsis, and leave contemplating your own role as a passive observer is far and away the ideal way to experience it. It’s also incredibly relevant today, as it sadly always is, in light of the ongoing genocides around the world. To anyone who comes away asking “what would I do in the face of atrocity?”, look around – you probably already know.
You can read Lilah’s review of The Zone of Interest here.
1. The Holdovers dir. Alexander Payne
First things first – The Holdovers is far from the most important film of the year. It doesn’t have any grand political statements about modern society or question our own complicity in atrocity. What it is, however, is a bittersweet and heartwarming celebration of the highs and lows of the human spirit. The film follows three characters trapped together in a New England boarding school over a lonesome Christmas break, grappling with their own demons just as they grow to respect and care for each other. Personally, it’s an immediate holiday classic – the kind of movie that lends itself well to an annual rewatch. Paul Giamatti, Dominic Sessa, and Da’Vine Joy Randolph all deliver some of the best performances of the year, and the film’s atmosphere itself is one of the most tangible in recent memory. It may not be the most topical of the year, or the most incisive, but that hardly matters. Its portrayal of the sheer humanity of its characters makes it absolutely one of the year’s most beautiful.
You can read Max’s review of The Holdovers here.