My Top 20 Films of 2025
Ken Jones, OnScreen Blog Chief Film Critic
2025 is in the rearview mirror, and with that, it is time to share my thoughts on my favorite films of the year before turning the page to 2026.
I have always agonized about making an end-of-year list because, invariably, there are a handful of movies that receive a limited release in December and will not reach my area until January. I have rationalized this by telling myself that it is a snapshot in time, and I will see more 2025 films in the future, and even the rankings may shift for me over time, so this is not a “set in stone” kind of thing. As I have done in the past, I have maintained a running rank of 2025 on Letterboxd, which can be found here.
If I had to rank this year in relation to the past few years, I think it is about on par with 2024’s slate. However, both of those years would rank behind 2023 and 2022, which I believe is the best year so far this decade. I made a mad dash in December and the early days of January to find some more quality in the year, and I’m glad I did, because 8 of the 20 movies that made my list were ones that I caught after December 1st.
For my Top 20 this year, I’m going to share the one thing about the film that stuck with me:
20. Frankenstein (dir. Guillermo del Toro)
What I will remember about del Toro’s interpretation of Shelley's classic is the childlike wonder and the eventual humanity in Jacob Elordi’s portrayal of the monster. After his creation, chained in the basement, Elordi’s performance does, in fact, convey a sense of a newborn in a full-grown body experiencing and viewing the world for the first time. And that develops, despite Frankenstein’s worst impulses, and especially when the monster leaves and finds friendship in the form of the blind man.
19. Sorry, Baby (dir. Eva Victor)
I was blown away by how mature this movie was for a debut film. It does a tremendous job of striking a tonal balance that could be difficult for even seasoned writers and directors. For this to be the debut, it shows Eva Victor to be a person of significant promise going forward as a director, writer, and actress.
18. Bugonia (dir. Yorgos Lanthimos)
The last twenty minutes or so of this film take such a turn that I did not expect, but having watched most of the Lanthimos oeuvre, I should have seen it coming. It casts judgment on humanity in a way that only Yorgos Lanthimos could. I think he is in a similar vein to Trey Parker and Matt Stone, with South Park, in that they poke fun at everyone, but Yorgos Lanthimos seems inclined not just to poke fun, but to poke in the eye and provoke too.
17. On Becoming a Guinea Fowl (dir. Rungano Nyoni)
I Am Not a Witch is a brilliant, little-seen film from Rugano Nyoni that I happened to catch at a film festival. This movie confirmed that it was no fluke. It has a lot to say about the ingrained patriarchy and culture of Zambia, but also about how confronting wrongdoing is so important rather than letting it linger and go unaddressed. The ending is a metaphor for calling out unconscionable behavior and hopefully breaking that cycle.
16. Superman (dir. James Gunn)
Some people saw this and said, “Not my Superman!” And to a degree, I get that this is going in a slightly different direction than the Supermen that have come before. But the speech Superman gives Luthor about what makes him human resonated with me. It was a pop culture moment of inclusion in an America where othering the foreigner has become too fashionable. I also loved that they kept him a dorky, squeaky-clean superhero. “Maybe that’s the real punk rock.” Maybe.
15. F1 (dir. Joseph Kosinski)
I’m going to remember F1 as the best pure popcorn entertainment film of the year. It is “Top Gun: Maverick” for Formula 1, and that is a compliment. It did a fantastic job of making the racing compelling and presenting the strategy of racing to the masses without massively dumbing it down. A prime example of Brad Pitt's star power, even 30 years on, this film also serves as a vehicle to bolster and promote a younger actor like Damson Idris. This is the kind of blockbuster that Hollywood needs more of to keep perpetuating itself.
14. Highest 2 Lowest (dir. Spike Lee)
I’m going to remember Highest 2 Lowest as a great late-career Denzel performance, but more than anything, I’m going to remember Highest 2 Lowest for Spike Lee’s love for film and film history. He showed a deep love, care, and appreciation in this film for the legendary director Akira Kurosawa in remaking his film, High To Low. There are some Spike films I have loved and some I hated, but with this film I have felt convicted in my heart that I have underrated and underappreciated the man’s overall body of work.
13. Splitsville (dir. Michael Angelo Covino)
Another underseen film from the late 2010s that I happened to catch at a festival was The Climb, a film about two dysfunctional best friends who fall in and out of friendship due to betrayal over the course of several years. Well, lather, rinse, and repeat, because Splitsville doubles down on the concept, expanding into open marriage territory to hysterical results. I now want a trilogy of Michael Angelo Covino and Kyle Marvin as dysfunctional friends, similar to the Cornetto Trilogy from Edgar Wright with Simon Pegg and Nick Frost.
12. The Baltimorons (dir. Jay Duplass)
This is my quirky, mismatched romantic comedy of 2025, which will fit nicely alongside Punch-Drunk Love, Lars and the Real Girl, and Moonrise Kingdom, as it effortlessly charms and wins me over with earnestness, delivering laughs from characters who feel like real, genuine people. I don’t know if this film fits into the mumblecore genre that Duplass helped define (or not), and, frankly, I don’t care. I just loved this movie.
11. Thunderbolts* (dir. Jake Schreier)
I am hoping that I look back on Thunderbolts* as a turning point in the MCU, but for now, while I am guardedly optimistic, that is still TBD. But what I appreciated about it was the unconventional teamwork required for the Thunderbolts* to defeat their foe, because it wasn’t done through fists, smashing, and wanton destruction, but emotional support for each other as broken people, similar to what worked in Guardians of the Galaxy.
10. Warfare (dir. Ray Mendoza, Alex Garland)
The most harrowing viewing experience of the year, for me at least. There has long been a debate about whether movies about war can be anti-war or if they all inherently glorify war by merely depicting it. "War is hell" is a cliche, but this is about as visceral and close up as you can get to seeing war for the hell that it is.
9. Marty Supreme (dir. Josh Safdie)
Josh Safdie is apparently the Safdie brother who prefers putting his main characters through intense pressure cookers, often of their own making. I'll remember this movie as the arrival of grown-up Timothée Chalamet. Similar to Leo in the 2000s until The Departed, every role Chalamet has been in so far has been good, but has had the feeling of a kid playing an adult. Not this time. As Trent said about Mikey in Swingers, you're growns up, and you're growns up.
8. A House of Dynamite (dir. Kathryn Bigelow)
This tense thriller about the rapid response to an impending nuclear attack of unknown origin is a not-quite-Rashomon tale; although the perspectives of the same timeframe change, the interpretation of events remains consistent. But what lingers from A House of Dynamite is an apoplectic Jared Harris as the Secretary of Defense exclaiming about the nation’s missile defense system, "So it's a f***ing coin toss? That's what $50 billion buys us?"
7. One of Them Days (dir. Lawrence Lamont)
I am definitely going to remember this movie, not just for how funny it is, how much it made me laugh, and how it gets immediate entry into the "bad day buddy comedy" pantheon, but for how good Keke Palmer is. It is well-documented how difficult and fraught the transition from child actor to adult actor can be, and Keke Palmer made it through. Between this and Nope, she should be a star. Get to work, Hollywood!
6. Wake Up Dead Man (dir. Rian Johnson)
Rian Johnson's latest Knives Out entry is a full-throated condemnation of the MAGA-fication of religion in America wrapped up in a whodunit. What is going to stick with me out of this film is a beautifully shot scene where Benoit Blanc introduces himself to Fr. Jud in the empty church. The lighting grows darker as Blanc airs his list of grievances against the Church and what has been done in the name of God down through the years. When Fr. Jud replies, he describes what the "real" Church should be, and the sunlight begins to shine brighter. It is beautiful filmmaking.
5. Black Bag (dir. Steven Soderbergh)
Aside from the "black bag" term itself being a code for a subject that you won't discuss with someone because it is off limits, I'll remember the impeccably shot dinner scenes where Fassbender and Blanchett's married spies have guests over who are suspected of spilling state secrets. Just a masterclass of filmmaking from Soderbergh, a technical master of the craft.
4. Weapons (dir. Zach Cregger)
There are many aspects of Weapons that I think will endure; particularly, I believe the sight of the kids running with their arms out at their sides is an instantly iconic horror visual. But for me, the first thing I will probably think of is the bonkers ending. So much of the movie is tense, and there are moments of anticipatory dread that leave you holding your breath (the scissor scene, anyone?), but the ending is a cathartic release of tension that culminates in laughter.
3. Train Dreams (dir. Clint Bentley)
What a beautiful and contemplative film. The visual language of the film, created by cinematographer Adolfo Veloso, will spring instantly to mind. Whether it is a pair of boots nailed to a tree in a moment of remembrance, a shot where the camera is seemingly tied to a tree as it falls to the ground, the scenes of Joel Edgerton and Felecity Jones homesteading and building a life together, or the simple biplane ride at the end that reduced me to tears, there are images from this film that will stick with you beyond your viewing.
2. Sinners (dir. Ryan Coogler)
Simple: that song and dance scene. At the beginning of the film, we hear in voiceover, “There are legends of people, born with the gift of making music so true, it can pierce the veil between life and death. Conjuring spirits from the past and the future….This gift can bring healing to their communities, but it also attracts evil.” When Miles Caton’s Sammie finally steps up to the mic at the opening of his cousins Elijah and Elias’ club, we see this actually happen. Ancient spirits mix with those from the films' present day (1930s) and from the future for a jam session that meshes hundreds of years of music into a beautiful, hypnotic scene, figuratively burning the roof down. We see the gift. And we see why the evil it attracts wants it.
1. One Battle After Another (dir. Paul Thomas Anderson)
So many options to choose from: Leo DiCaprio’s Bob on the roof, Bob on the phone with revolutionaries unable to remember the code he was supposed to memorize, the Lockjaw walk that Sean Penn does, the satirical Christmas Adventurer’s Club. But really, what makes me want to go back and rewatch this film is the car sequence in the desert, up and down the undulating road. Apparently, this is in Borrego Springs, California, and it’s known as the “Texas dip.” The way they shot this semi-chase scene was riveting and propulsive, with the camera tied to the front of the car. My first thought was that it was like a rollercoaster, but it was really more like riding over waves in the ocean. Utterly mesmerizing, especially on the big screen in the theater.
Agree? Disagree? Let us know @onscreenblog on X.