Wednesday, December 31, 2025

2025 Retrospective

All right, here's the idea: rather than a "ten best" or "ten worst" list, I'm ranking every new piece of visual media - movies, seasons of TV shows, specials - I watched this year from my least favorite to my most favorite. For the rules lawyers out there, I'm only ranking media I finished, and TV show season dates will be based on when the last episode dropped or aired.

To be clear, this isn't remotely everything I watched, only everything I watched that was released in 2025. I saw 246 movies this year, but most of them were more than a decade old - I won't be subjecting you to that kind of a list, nor will I be subjecting myself to the torture of attempting to rank a silent film from the 1920s against a made-for-TV Christmas movie from the '00s.

At least not this year. God, that sounds like an interesting exercise and an opportunity to explore the underlying meaning of "favorite," as well as what preference means when considering a piece of media's academic interest compared with its entertainment value in a--

NO! STOP! GET BACK ON TRACK!

Wait, there's a track here? Ah, whatever. Look, the point is I'll only be looking at movies released in 2025. Well, released in the U.S. in 2025. See, release dates are kind of nebulous things in today's interconnected world, so I'll be making some arbitrary judgement calls, which will be called out in write-ups, and...

You already stopped reading and skipped to the ranked list, didn't you? If not, why not? I never read these intro bits on end-of-year lists. We all understand the concept of a ranked list, and we mostly just skim them to see where we agree with the writer or to see if the madness that was 2025 caused them to lose their goddamn mind and include multiple Star Wars things in their top five.

But if you are still reading this intro for some weird reason, I'll warn you upfront there are MANY movies and shows I didn't get around to. Predator: Badlands, One Battle After Another, and the new season of Only Murders in the Building stand out as potentially significant. I also only saw the first few episodes of the new season of Phineas and Ferb, which I thought lived up to the originals (which I love), so it's weird I never found time to stream the rest. Bet that would have ranked pretty high!

The point being, these lists are never complete. There's a strong possibility this will change as I catch up on more movies and shows released this year or just as I mull this over. But a deadline's a deadline, so let's get started.


57. The Electric State

This clearly wanted to recapture the magic of Spielberg's AI, but instead it winds up reminding me of numerous SF movies whose names I've ironically forgotten. That gets at the heart of the matter: The Electric State isn't so much awful as completely forgettable. It's the shell of a movie going through the motions of a template we've seen a hundreds times before, and the emotional beats ring hollow. There are some cool visuals, as you'd expect from a movie costing 320 million dollars (that's eight Glass Onions, for those of you wondering where your Netflix subscription dollars have been going). Whether that's enough to justify a watch comes down to your genre preferences and how much time you have on your hands. For what it's worth, I used to sit through worse back when I was younger and sci-fi movies were scarce. But contrary to what this movie would have you believe, this is no longer the mid-90s: we've got better options now. 


56. Captain America: Brave New World

This isn't quite my least favorite MCU movie - that remains Multiverse of Madness, which just leaves a rotten taste in my mouth due to its lazy treatment of female characters. But I'd be lying if I said there was anything in Brave New World a tenth as interesting as the visuals in Multiverse of Madness, so it's not like the ranking is clear cut.

At any rate, at the time I'm writing this, Brave New World is resting in the coveted spot for my second least favorite MCU movie. For those interested, that still places it ahead of Black Adam, Wonder Woman 1984, and The Flash, when comparing this with DCEU installments. And everything I just mentions outranks Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, but that should go without saying. I'd rank Brace New World below Suicide Squad and Justice League (either cut).

So, bad. It's a bad movie. Which means the MCU is over, and has failed as an experiment.

No, wait, it doesn't mean either of those things. It just means this movie didn't work artistically or commercially. And that's fine. Hell, it'll be fine if the MCU actually ends up dying - we got more out of this franchise than we ever had a right to expect. I'm still hoping for the best, but if that's not in the cards, it's hardly the end of the world.

Back to Brave New World. There are things to like here, starting with Anthony Mackie's performance. He sells both the iconography and Sam's feelings of inadequacy in the face of that iconography extremely well. Giancarlo Esposito is likewise great here and everywhere else. He deserves so much better than being in this and The Electric State in the same year, and yet... he manages to walk away from both with nothing to feel embarrassed about. That's a hell of a feat.

There are also a handful of decent moments and set pieces here, but frankly the ratio of cool action sequences to dull, poorly staged fights isn't great. Still, I liked the Falcon/Sidewinder fight quite a bit, and I appreciate the movie pitting one of the franchise's lowest powered heroes against a Hulk. I'm a believer one of the core aspects of the superhero genre is that power levels, while defined, aren't what determine outcomes. I'm not saying that fight was well shot (it wasn't), but I actually like how it was written.

Unfortunately, that's more or less the only thing in the movie I thought was written well. The dialogue throughout was awkward and contrived, the jokes were missing any energy, and the drama lacked tension.

Again, bad movie. Fingers crossed for the next Avengers, though - I haven't given up on these characters yet.


55. Prep & Landing: The Snowball Protocol

After a fourteen-year hiatus, you'd think Disney would put together something more interesting than a couple shorts masquerading as a special. The larger issue is those shorts are somewhat inexplicably not in the right style, tone, or genre for the property, and this isn't a case where a new direction makes sense. The gimmick behind Prep & Landing was to treat Christmas elves like secret agents and tell an action-packed adventure story that's also a heartwarming holiday special. The original pulled that off, as did the "Secret Santa" short. Depending on who you ask, you might hear a favorable opinion of "Naughty vs. Nice" as well.

But even those of us who weren't entirely smitten with "Naughty vs. Nice" (it's a decent if underwhelming installment) can't deny it was at least in the same ballpark in terms of premise. "The Snowball Protocol" just drops the secret agent stuff entirely and uses the characters as fodder for generic cartoons that are, at best, fine.


54. A Chuck E. Cheese Christmas

This benefits a bit from low expectations, but it also conversely takes a hit just for being... well... an exercise in IP management. As I said in my review, I couldn't engage with this on any meaningful level simply because I couldn't get over the knowledge I was watching a Chuck E. Cheese special. I've seen others who had an easier time with that speed bump, and some of their reactions were much more favorable. That doesn't surprise me - this was an unusual case where I could tell on an intellectual level that some of the jokes were funny objectively (to the very limited extent that term makes any sense in the context of a review). I think there's a very real possibility I'd have had a different reaction to the same humor if the characters weren't brand mascots.

I still wouldn't have thought much of the animation, however. And, more to the point, I'm not trying to make an objective list here, anyway, so... here's where it lands. But for the record I liked it better than the new Prep and Landing because I expected more from that and even less from this.


53. In the Lost Lands

For all the Post-apocalyptic/ Western/ fantasy/ horror/ romance/ melodrama/ superhero/ whatever-other-genres-I'm-forgetting this is playing at, it's ultimately just a Paul W. S. Anderson movie, which is another way of saying it's full of characters saying really stupid dialogue in front of green screens surrounded by cheesy visual effects that feel lifeless. A knockoff World of Darkness movie should be cooler than this. Alternatively, an unofficial Resident Evil sequel set centuries later should also be cooler than this (I couldn't settle on just one synopsis - it's actually kind of weird how well either works).

That said, a couple sequences are kind of neat as mini music videos, and Milla Jovovich is always fun in stuff like this, so it's not a complete loss. Close, though. Really close.


52. Wolf Man

This feels incomplete. The movie is ostensibly based on relationships, but it fails to develop those relationships before shifting into the usual genre stuff. The emotion lacks weight, so we're ultimately left with the effects and action to carry the movie, and that stuff...

Some of it's pretty good. The "wolf-vision" sequences are cool and creative, and several of the horror sequences succeed in selling the danger. But the creature design looks a bit ridiculous - I respect the attempt to do something a little different, but the end result looks like an extra from the Lord of the Rings movies walked on set with their makeup halfway done.

This wasn't awful, but it just didn't work for me.


51. Death of a Unicorn

A great concept that really needed somewhere - anywhere - interesting to go... and just couldn't find its way. That's a shame: the cast is great and I like the creature design, but the script meanders too much, the characters are underdeveloped, and not enough of the jokes land. Add in a nonsensical ending, and this mostly just leaves you feeling disappointed.

That said, there's a sequence where Richard E. Grant seems to be channeling Darwin Mayflower, and I'm not going to pretend I didn't love that. But this is one of those movies that pales in comparison to its own trailer.


50. Play Dirty

Well, it's better than The Predator, but still another miss from Shane Black. In addition to the uneven tone, this needed someone other than Mark Wahlberg in the lead. His Parker feels like an empty, unlikeable, unintimidating void.


49. Paddington in Peru

It's hard not to compare this unfavorably to its two superior predecessors, particularly since those have Sally Hawkins and this (with all due respect to Emily Mortimer, who does good work despite having an impossible task) does not.

To its credit, Paddington in Peru manages to be a solid, enjoyable kid's film. It's got several good jokes and enough of the heart parts one and two had to feel like a genuine installment in the franchise, rather than an imitation.

But at the same time, this is coming on the heels of two improbable masterpieces. Paddington in Peru is good, but it's not in the same league.


48. Eyes of Wakanda, Season 1

The last episode is buying this A LOT of goodwill. It's not that the first three were bad - they were fine - but the decision to effectively have Wakandan technology and culture static for the last three thousand years kind of dulled the fun you'd expect from showcasing these kinds of adventures through history. 

On top of that, well... Marvel feels kind of stale to me these days. Yeah, yeah, I'm late to the party, though for what it's worth I'd rather be later - it's more fun to enjoy things.

The last episode was an improvement, thanks to its more outlandish time-travel premise. Sure, it was a bit reminiscent of the "what happened to Darth Vader's lightsaber" era of Star Wars novels, but silly lore or not, it was entertaining.


47. Daredevil: Born Again, Season 1

This had some ups and downs, but it deserves credit for ending on a high note. Everything about the last episode was a blast, particularly the Punisher stuff. Frank battling police coopting his symbol is something I think the world needs right now. It's probably naive to even hope any real-world cops using that icon get the message and rethink some things, but I still appreciate the attempt.

I liked most of the early stuff, too - it was mostly the middle where things got uneven. The two Muse episodes felt underdeveloped and badly constructed to me, like the parts of the Netflix shows that failed to come together. I also kept wanting more with the city's other vigilantes, but maybe that's coming in season 2.


46. Jingle Bell Heist

If you're going to get one thing right in a heist movie (or even a romcom cosplaying as a heist movie) make it the soundtrack. Set the right mood with music, and viewers will forgive quite a bit. Though, to be fair, this gets more than just one thing right: it's a quirky, fun little romantic adventure. If they'd taken the time to stage the planning sequences in ways that don't constantly feel like there are a dozen extras listening in, I'd probably have ranked this higher. Granted, that's not an unforgiveable sin, but it grated on me throughout and served as a reminder that the genre elements were mostly surface level, despite a handful of solid payoffs. Likewise, the late addition of a benevolent mastermind who solved the hard problems and reduced the suspense didn't do this any favors. Still, I had fun with this one.


45. Novocaine

A solid action/comedy hiding a bit of a holiday romcom beneath the surface. The catch is if any of those genres don't interest you (or if brutal violence is a deal-breaker) this isn't likely to work for you: it really is a package deal. But if you're open to its particular blend of styles, the end result is worthwhile. Not spectacular, mind you, but enjoyable.


44. Gabby's Dollhouse: The Movie

There's a lot about this movie that's weird: Kristen Wiig basically reprising her role as Cheetah, the movie taking a cue from Spider-Verse and animating some characters at different rates, the fact this is clearly set in a universe with a cat-based economy....

But my only real issue is this has the wrong ending for its story. This is building towards a House at Pooh Corner reckoning, and instead it takes the easy way out. I'm not saying this needed a tragic ending, but it ended without a price. Kid's entertainment or not, that's kind of weak.

Aside from that, this is about as cute and fun as you can reasonably expect from a toy commercial masquerading as a movie. It's colorful, sparkly, and funny. I enjoyed it, and I'm not exactly the target demographic.


43. Murderbot, Season 1

I feel like this would be better if I hadn't read the books. 

It's still good, mind you, and I love several choices made, starting with committing to cast Sanctuary Moon like a standard streaming sci-fi show and give it a completely different color palette than the rest of the series. I also thought the cast was fantastic - I started out skeptical of Alexander SkarsgĂ„rd, but damned if I didn't come around. 

The issue is the show didn't deliver a lot of surprises, given it mostly (though not entirely) followed the plot of the first book. The twists, characters, and even dialogue were either taken directly or deviated in immediately evident ways, to the point it didn't have much more to offer beyond being a well executed adaptation of a really fun book.

That's not at all a bad thing, obviously. But in a sea of seemingly endless options, it's not enough to make it into the top tier of my list.

Though, for what it's worth, it is enough I'm planning to watch the next season - again: this was still good!

I wish I connected with the show as completely as a lot of its online fans do, rather than landing in the like-but-don't-love bucket, but that's a better description of where I'm at. I also disagree with the consensus the show was wise to mimic a 30-minute sitcom in terms of length, rather than the more typical hour long template popular for genre fare. I'll admit a lot of this is likely conditioning: I'm used to shows like this lasting twice as long, so I found the end credits jarring again and again. But I do think there's a reason for this: 30 minutes just doesn't give us time to get fully invested in this kind of setting. I really think half as many episodes that were twice as long would have been a better overall experience.

Though, for like the tenth time, the experience this offered was still good.


42. In Your Dreams

This was a solid, if unremarkable, animated movie, the rare animated movie that goes right to Netflix without it seemingly like a mistake. This isn't another Nimona or K-Pop Demon Hunters where you're left thinking the studio (usually Sony, which also handled the animation here) flushed hundreds of millions of dollars down the toilet because they're incapable of comprehending the possibility they actually made a really good movie. At the same time, this isn't at all bad for what it is. There's some clever design, a few gorgeous sequences, and the fact it's playing with difficult family dynamics without offering easy answers is admirable, but....

Here's the thing: there's just so much of this now. Honestly, it doesn't matter what aspect of the movie I'm referring to: serious emotional journeys rendered through a prism of CG animated wonder? There's so much of that coming out these days Pixar doesn't even have a monopoly on it anymore. Cartoon movies about dreams with beautiful, occasionally sad twists? I think we've gotten one or more of these premiering on Netflix alone annually for the last three or four years (my favorite was the criminally underrated Orion and the Dark). The point is, this is a crowded sub-subgenre, so you either need to stand out or....

Or you can just go to Netflix. Which, again, this did. And it's pretty good there if you're looking to kill 90 minutes. Probably even better if you're watching it with preteens. If your family is going through a rough patch, maybe it's even perfect. 

But overall it's just kind of passable, which (let's face it) is more or less Netflix's operating model.


41. The Gorge

An enjoyable creature-feature with a side of romance and some notably cool designs. I like the barrage of visual surprises, though some of the story reveals were a bit underwhelming. When the nature of the threat is explained, it seems like they're trying too hard to differentiate it from what I assume were the movie's influences (Stephen King, right?), which is understandable, but... well... dimensional portal or evil fairies or something would have been more fun. Likewise, the ending feels backed into a corner where there's no great way to wrap this up. They land in a pretty good place, but I'm not sure anything would have been 100% satisfying.

Still, it's impossible to be upset with a genre entry this packed with weird monsters and gorgeous cinematography reminiscent of '80s horror/adventure. This is good stuff.


40. Conan O'Brien Must Go, Season 2

Calling this a "season" is somewhat misleading: at three episodes, this is really more a collection of specials or arguably a miniseries. It might be more accurate to say it's Conan getting HBO Max to pick up the tab for him to go visit fans who called into his podcast, and also do a bunch of country-specific comedic bits while he's there.

That's not a criticism - I like Conan a hell of a lot more than I like Discovery (or whatever corporate umbrella they're under these days), so I'm more than happy to see them covering his expenses. I'm also more than happy to just watch more Conan. I was in middle school when his first late-night show was taking off: I thought he was hilarious then, and I still think so now. While aspects of his personality are of course amplified on air, I absolutely believe he's obsessed with making people around him laugh. More than that, he does so in a deceptively ethical manner, framing every interaction to ensure he's the punchline while the person he's interacting with - regardless of whether that's a celebrity, a fan, or a random passer-by - either comes off seeming clever or reasonably annoyed by foolish antics. That style hides a depth of kindness beneath an illusion of immature arrogance.

The downside to having enjoyed this stuff for most of my life is even the surprises aren't exactly surprising anymore. But I'm still consistently entertained and impressed.


39. Love Death + Robots, Vol 4

Like any anthology, weighing the good from bad installments is a bit exhausting. I'm dropping this here, but keep in mind its placement is essentially an average: there are absolutely episodes far better, just as there are some I'd rank lower.

As a whole, I like that the series seems to be backing away from requiring sex and violence present in every episode. I'm perfectly happy to see that stuff when it's appropriate, but the first few volumes felt like there was some sort of quota being imposed. Here, the content seems calibrated to the story and art style, which is a major step up.

The downside is that it feels as though the creators are running low on stories to adapt that fit the parameters of the show. A lot of these felt rushed or underdeveloped, or perhaps based on ideas that don't translate well to the screen. Still, enough of these delivered something special - be it story, animation, humor, or all of the above - to make it worth watching.

Normally, this is where I'd stop and move on, but for some weird reason I took notes this time. So here's a ranking within a ranking of every short in this volume, from the one I liked least to most:

Close Encounters of the Mini Kind: Am I misremembering, or did they do something in a similar style in an earlier volume? It's an undeniably cool animation style, though the humor really doesn't land for me. Still, this is a case where style over substance is partly redeemed by exceptional style.

Can't Stop: A few things jump out at me about this. First, it's weird seeing what's ultimately a music video presented as a short film, all the more so because the band featured in said video - The Red Hot Chili Peppers - is from the era when music videos were an actual thing. Second, the faux puppetry makes for an odd choice - actual marionettes would be more fun than CG ones. That said, it's an impressive music video, and I appreciated the visual gags around the strings (particularly the mishap with the lighter). It's a neat little video, but ultimately it left me asking, "Is that it?"

Smart Appliances, Stupid Owners: A series of shorts (so basically an anthology within an anthology - and NO, I will not be ranking those individually) connected by the same idea: it's a clever concept, though even at 8 minutes it overstays its welcome. Apparently, this is digital animation mimicking stop-motion - for what it's worth, I was fooled.

Spider Rose: Decent little story elevated with some gorgeous computer animation. Feels a bit rote, but it's more than pretty enough and well directed enough to stay interesting. Still could have used more of a point.

The Screaming of the Tyrannosaur: Not entirely sure how I feel about this one. On one hand, it's kind of rad and metal, in an absolutely ridiculous sort of way. But the absurdity of the thing, coupled with its self-serious tone and juvenile fixation on nudity and gore, makes the whole experience a tad embarrassing. But then that's the series in a nutshell: an updated Heavy Metal, for both good and bad. I'm dropping this around the middle, because - despite my reservations - it's still extremely cool.

Golgotha: Hey! Live action! Nice little short film. Nothing groundbreaking, but I enjoyed it quite a bit.

400 Boys: Stylish and emotionally charged. I'm not sure it managed to convey much of a theme (mostly due to the time constraints), but GOD what a ride.

How Zeke Got Religion: Despite the seemingly whimsical title, this is the creepiest installment in the volume so far. Good stuff.

The Other Large Thing: Ridiculously enjoyable dark comedy in the vein of Pinky and the Brain. This is one of the better uses of the format I've seen to date.

For He Can Creep: Easily the best of the season, and one of the best installments in the series to date. The story is a perfect blend of off-beat dark comedy, fantasy-adventure, and just a pinch of horror. On top of all that, the animation style is gorgeous, recreating the look of antiquated charcoal sketches in a 3D environment, similar to the way the Spider-Verse movies reference their sources in every frame. Someone should greenlight an adaptation of A Christmas Carol in the same style.


38. Black Bag

Like most movies I've seen directed by Soderbergh, Black Bag was quite good. The film was intricately crafted, with a distinct style and an incredible attention to tone. Soderbergh is able to assemble a phenomenal cast, who are naturally able to deliver phenomenal performances. Like I said: good.

Where things get complicated is substance. Note the word I used was "complicated," not "bad." I realize the former is often used as a euphemism for the latter, but this time I mean it. There are a few ways you can look at this movie; some lead to a positive impression, while others are a tad disappointing.

Let's start on an optimistic note. Black Bag is a romantic thriller disguised as a spy thriller disguised as a romantic thriller disguised as a spy thriller. Honestly, the spiral may go a layer or two deeper. It's not merely a mashup, but rather walking a tightrope between subgenres in order to leave the viewer in the dark as far as where it's ultimately going to fall. All of that's really neat, really compelling, and really... well... good.

But ultimately it does need to choose a side, and the place it falls is... well... not so much bad as inherently Soderberghian. To put it plainly, once everything was revealed, I wasn't at all surprised.

Which isn't to say these things need to be surprising, but an interesting twist makes me more forgiving of underwhelming characters. That's admittedly a slightly unfair summation - the characters in Black Bag are intentionally difficult to read (they are spies, after all). And there are thematic reasons for having them come off as unlikeable most of the movie, though that raises an additional question.

Are the themes here any good?

The movie is primarily about relationships and trust, and taken on its surface the main theme seems to be a straightforward (and surprisingly aggressive) endorsement of monogamy. Part of me finds that a bit old fashioned as a thesis. On the other hand, there's something refreshing about a spy movie incorporating that theme, all the more so because it includes a former Bond actor in the cast. Context matters, after all. But depending on how you look at it, Black Bag either feels like regressive moralizing or a clever indictment of a childish genre.

Either way, it's still a tense, compelling drama, but the difference in how you interpret its subtext mean the difference between a cool, forgettable thriller and a modern classic.


37. Thunderbolts/New Avengers

Which title are we sticking with? And does it really even matter? As soon as I saw the asterisk, I had a pretty good idea where they going with that (though I thought "Dark Avengers" was more likely). Good thing, too, since it was spoiled for me months before I got to the movie.

I mostly enjoyed this one. I really liked the third act and how it deviated from the usual superhero beat 'em up. And I had fun with the comedy throughout.

I was a bit disappointed to see the movie execute [redacted] right off the bat. It's not that I particularly liked the character, but I'd hoped they'd find a way to make them interesting, rather than just eliminate them unceremoniously.

Maybe that left a bad taste in my mouth, because while I enjoyed the rest of the film, I never felt like I was watching a new favorite or anything. It doesn't help that I'm extremely skeptical we'll be getting more than a few brief moments with this team in the future. Even if this had made enough money to justify a sequel (which it didn't), it's hard to imagine Marvel fitting it in with whatever's going on post Avengers 5 and 6 (which will most likely pivot into a reboot, anyway). That doesn't mean this is any less good as a standalone, but it does mean it's less exciting as a springboard into new stories. I'm still enjoying these as episodic installments, but - even when they manage to do something novel, as Thunderbolts to its credit pulls off - the novelty of the brand wore off a while back.

It's still possible for these to surprise and delight me (this isn't the highest ranking MCU thing on here), but it takes a lot more than it used to. And the declining box-office receipts on these suggest I'm not alone in that respect.


36. Havoc

I said more about this over at the Christmas site than I'm going to here, but to sum up I thought this was good as a highly stylized action flick with an abnormally strong cast (at least as far as Netflix releases are concerned). Clearly, this is copying off John Wick's homework, but as long as you don't hold that against it, it's a fun, weird little genre entry.


35. Dog Man

Taking a step back, I really like the degree to which the current philosophy governing CG animated movies is to create the aesthetic, setting, and physical reality of the film based on the material. Spider-Verse is (accurately) regarded as the turning point for the industry embracing this approach, but it's worth noting that The Peanuts Movie deserves credit for proving it would work (artistically, if not financially). The Peanuts Movie is particularly significant here, as Dog Man borrows quite a bit of its approach from that project, designing 3D characters but (mostly) committing to filming them from angles matching their original designs.

It's effective here, creating a sense of comical whimsy that keeps the movie's surprisingly dark and mature themes from becoming too dismal. This is a movie about loneliness, depression, and abandonment, and - for all the wacky hijinks and cartoon mayhem - it takes those themes and emotions seriously.

The reason I'm not ranking this is even higher is that while the movie's funny, it's not quite as funny as I want it to be. Several side characters, in particular, are fairly one-note and outstay their welcome. If the humor had been punched up, I feel like this could have been an instant classic.

As it is, it's still a very good family movie, well worth watching with or even without kids.


34. Frankenstein

The second best Guillermo del Toro movie released this year after that video of him saying, "Fuck AI," Frankenstein is something of a double-edged sword: an achievement in visual design and cinematography that lacks the subtlety to form a fully satisfying experience.

I'd argue this dichotomy between visual storytelling and writing has defined virtually all of del Toro's work, though his first few films managed to turn this into a positive in ways his later Hollywood productions generally haven't. Even movies like The Shape of Water (which I love) struggle to construct characters with more than two dimensions. His worlds are rich and evocative, but the people inhabiting them and the stories set within them... not so much. It's long been a trade-off, but Frankenstein is the rare del Toro film where the flaws start to rival the merits. I don't think they quite overtake them - or even equal them - but they're harder to disregard than usual.

I still liked this one, incidentally. The movie looks gorgeous, and that's enough. But between the fact he keeps returning to the same themes and archetypes without adding depth would constitute a problem even if this weren't one of his weaker scripts.


33. The Bad Guys 2

It's a little weird just how fast and how completely this franchise pivots into an animated Fast & Furious pastiche, but that's not necessarily a bad direction. I enjoyed the Moonraker stuff, too (quite a bit more than I ever enjoyed Moonraker, incidentally).

Still, this is all good stuff, not great. It's fun, the third act is gorgeous, and the characters are enjoyable... but there's not all that much more here. There were a few moments when the movie felt like it had something more meaningful to say, but I didn't feel like they were fleshed out enough to elevate the movie above standard kid's fare. But, hey, it's still pretty good kid's fare, so that's something.


32. Troll 2

This was a worthy successor to the 2022 film, Troll, a solid little Norwegian kaiju/folk adventure film that feels closer to the recent Monsterverse movies than the Japanese originals. This is all in good fun, despite the rather heavy themes of sacrifice and the consequences of environmental destruction (maybe there's a touch of the Japanese movies in the mix, after all). Still, for all the heavy dramatic moments, the selling point is the sheer joy of watching a two-hundred-foot troll run amok.

I won't pretend I'm above enjoying such pleasures. Actually, if I'm being completely honest, they got me with some of the Spock and Superman stuff, too, as transparent as it all was. What can I say? I'm a nerd and a dad - I'm not immune to this.

But the need to consolidate effects means a lot of low-rent Indiana Jonesing, which gets old pretty fast in these things. They did a better job than many monster movies in terms of distracting you during the sequences they can't afford to have the monster onscreen, but some of these sequences still outstay their welcome.

On the whole, I had fun with this.


31. Good Boy

Good Boy is something of a contradiction, in that the thing that makes it fascinating and worth watching is also what keeps it from connecting as a horror movie. The entire premise of the movie is centered around its POV character, a dog. And, as media outlets covering the film were quick to point out, this is a real dog being filmed by his owners over the course of three years. He doesn't know he's in a horror movie, and while director Ben Leonberg finds ways of creating frightening images on film, it's pretty plain to see Indy is really just displaying normal dog behavior.

That's reassuring to those of us watching. Leonberg isn't tormenting his star to get a "realistic" performance - he's playing with his dog and finding shots he can recontextualize to create the effect he's going for. And it's all incredibly impressive.

But the movie can't overcome the hurdle of making you forget that you're seeing footage of a very real, perfectly content dog looking a little confused, as opposed to experiencing a terrifying supernatural ordeal. Because Indy's still wagging his tail. He's not cowering or shaking. He's having a good time.

Again, that's a good thing. If Leonberg had actually traumatized that animal, my tone would be much harsher (assuming I'd even finished the film). Likewise, if this had been accomplished with a CG dog, it wouldn't have been worth watching at all. The value in Good Boy is that it was made this way, that it's a well constructed film, and that the handful of effects shots featuring supernatural elements look fantastic (as does the whole movie, really). 

But for better or worse, you wind up feeling like you're watching a feature-length experiment in filmmaking centered on editing, more than a traditional movie. And that's certainly neat - the point of this is to exist as a piece of art exploring the boundaries of the medium and highlighting the Kuleshov effect (my guess is this is about to go on syllabuses in a thousand film studies courses). And, watched in that context, it makes for a fascinating study of how movies are edited to convey meaning. It's also just fun to look at an adorable dog for an hour and change. But what it can't quite do is pull you into the reality of the story, because as good a boy as Indy is and as much meaning they're able to imply through editing, Indy isn't an actor (no matter how many awards he's given playfully).

You never really forget you're seeing a dog edited into the lead role of a horror movie. Again, this isn't a bad thing, but it does place a cap on how engrossing the experience can become. Still, "impressive" counts for a lot (and even more when you consider its budget). This is fascinating to watch and think about from a technical standpoint, but it doesn't pull you in the way something like Flow does.


30. The Merchants of Joy

It isn't easy to rank documentaries - usually I don't bother trying, but I liked this enough to want to include it.

I'm not sure what else there is to say about this. Really good Christmas documentaries aren't actually all that rare, but this one's absolutely worth seeing if you're a holiday nerd.


29. Red Sonja
Go in with realistic expectations - this has some awkward dialogue and uneven effects - but it's still a solid homage to several generations of low-budget sword & sorcery on the big and small screens. More than that, there's some genuinely surprising choices in the last act, including some stuff movies like this never do that demonstrates there was more thought put into this than was initially apparent. 

Granted, the generic stinger at the start of the end credits teasing a sequel kills some of that goodwill, but still... on the whole I liked this.


28. Bugonia

This movie would seem unimaginably weird if it had been made by any other director. From Yorgos Lanthimos, it almost seems restrained.

I enjoyed it. Quite a bit, in fact, particularly when it became more and more unhinged in the last act and... well... I don't want to spoil anything, even if where it went wasn't that surprising, it was still cool to see it all play out in a modern movie. The ways the movie toyed with tone were fascinating - it's a "dark comedy" rather than straight horror mainly because of its soundtrack, and even then only because we know we're supposed to be conscious that soundtrack is too anachronistic to be taken remotely seriously. But - excluding some character beats and a few design choices near the end - this succeeds in feeling like a throwback to the 1960s or '70s. Impressively, it's enjoyable simply on that level, as well: you can watch this as a sci-fi thriller rather than a dark comedy, and it still works. The joke at the movie's core is a decidedly disturbing one, after all, a fact the ending exploits to its full potential.

As good as all that is, there's kind of ceiling on how enjoyable the movie can be. This is ultimately fairly one-note (well, maybe two notes), so - as much as I appreciate it - this is where it lands on my list.


27. Reflection in a Dead Diamond
Basically feels like you're seeing a ninety minute version of a Bond opening credit sequence, which - let's be honest - is usually the best part, anyway.

I'm not sure how else to describe this other than a super-spy version of The Company of Wolves. Post-modern movies always either work or they don't, and different people will end up staring at different sides of that coin. This one worked for me, more as a weird-for-the-sake-of-weird piece of entertainment than as a profound statement on the ways genre ages. Don't get me wrong: I appreciate the themes and ideas being played with, but right or wrong I was more interested in the gonzo nonsense side of things this time.

26. Better Man

Counting this as a 2025 release is a stretch - this technically had a limited US release late last year, but it wasn't expanded nationwide until January (not that the expansion helped it much - the movie still bombed). The early release qualified it for awards (it was up for visual effects last year), but virtually no one saw it until January (or after, unfortunately). Regardless, I'm going to bend my definition for release to justify considering it here (it's my list, so I can do what I want).

A bizarre and somewhat ingenious musical biopic in which the subject of the film - British popstar Robbie Williams - is portrayed by a CG chimpanzee, Better Man fascinated me from the moment I saw the trailer. Even more fascinating is that the actual movie is nothing like I expected. It's no surprise that the central gimmick is a metaphor, but I'd assumed it would also be a joke, or at least treated as funny. For the most part, that's not the case - the movie doesn't generally treat the depiction of Williams as weird or silly, and the film as a whole is more drama than comedy, exploring serious topics connected to fame, suicide, and imposter syndrome.

For most of the runtime, I felt like I was watching something incredible. But that's actually kind of the issue here (not the "incredible" part; the runtime). What made the movie work was its energy, but that eventually wore thin, particularly when we reached a resolution that didn't quite click. I suspect the movie prioritized Williams' actual life story (or at least his version of it) over narrative. If so, that's an understandable choice, but it does hold this back a hair.

Still, this thing is somewhat miraculous. The movie would work without the chimpanzee gimmick at all, and moreover the use of those effects don't muscle out the emotional performance of the character. Having either of those be the case in something like this would be impressive; both simultaneously is astonishing.


25. Companion
"Low budget sci-fi movies that don't feel low budget" might be my favorite genre of the 2020s. Visual effects have progressed to the point movies with modest resources can pull off sleek visuals, so long as they're needed sparingly. Couple that with a great script and the right cast, and you've got a formula for something worth watching.

Horror has been following that template for a while now, to impressive results, but there's no reason sci-fi can't follow suit. Companion is by no means the first (or best) delightfully weird standalone low-budget/high concept SF flick (I mean, one won Best Picture a few years ago), but it's a worthy addition to the subgenre. 

My one nitpick here is the ending: I like where it goes, but it meanders a bit too much on the way there, at least for my tastes. It kind of feels like they ran out of ideas but needed an additional 15 minutes to sell it as a full movie.

That's obviously not a deal-breaker, but it's the reason this is a worthy entry in an emerging trend of great SF movies rather than one of the best.


24. Wednesday, Season 2
This series is, for better and worse, aggressively weird. Every episode feels like a jumble of random genres stitched together without much consideration for the larger story, the franchise's history, or - hell - the episodes themselves. 

In spite of this - or perhaps because of it - the series is infectiously watchable. When it works, it really works, despite some baffling stupid decisions made in the first season they're stuck with (every time someone unironically says the word, "Outcast", I feel a sharp pain in my head).

But damned if these characters aren't fun. I also thought this season was better structured than the first (though it's worth noting the writers seem to have burned through their best Wednesday lines).

Up until the last episode, the first season was in the running for my favorite piece of entertainment in 2022, but the finale really annoyed me. The resolution to Wednesday's arc betrayed the character. Apparently the producers felt the same way, because this managed to wrap things up in a far better manner. In some ways it was the opposite of season one: this time it was the early episodes that were hit-or-miss. But I liked just about everything about the conclusion, and - as I've noted in the past - endings count for a lot. 

Though not everything. As a whole, this show remains equal parts delightful and frustrating. That, along with the sense it's not as fresh as it was three years ago, is why it's not higher. 

But make no mistake - I'm a child of the '90s, and I have every intention of watching season 3.

23. Creature Commandos, Season 1

I wasn't sure about this one early on - the animation, while decent, kind of feels like a variation on the pseudo-anime look a lot DC has been using in their direct-to-dvd/streaming projects for the past couple decades, and while I thought the writing was solid from the start, there wasn't anything in the first few episodes that signaled this would be anything special. I gave it a chance in the hopes Gunn would deliver, and....

Of course he did. I've really got to stop doubting this guy. 

Once the characters are established, you're reminded why team adventures built around flawed, emotionally scarred antiheroes are Gunn's bread and butter. By the last episode, you're also reminded that Gunn doesn't always pull his punches: the resolution is pitch perfect, but it's heart-wrenching stuff. 

Speaking of pitch, I felt like Gunn raided my music collection for this show, between numerous tracks from Gogol Bordello, as well as one from Juke Baritone to close things off. I'm not saying I bumped this a few spots for the soundtrack, but... well... I can't say that hurt its ranking.


22. Jurassic World: Rebirth
I've always had an odd relationship with this franchise. Most nerds of my generation grew up loving the original - I only ever really liked it. By the time I saw it as a kid I'd read the book, and at the time it felt like the movie had been dumbed down in several ways. I'm certainly not saying that reaction holds up, but it's why I never developed the kind of nostalgia glasses I'm still wearing for, say, Star Wars. On rewatch, I've found the original fun enough but tonally uneven. Also, the characters just don't work for me.

The point being, my favorite Jurassic Park movie isn't the original. Hell, I mostly prefer The Lost World, by virtue of it concluding with a ridiculous homage to kaiju movies. I also remember thinking Fallen Kingdom was pretty entertaining.

I'd have to rewatch both of those to rank them, but there's a real chance Rebirth might come out on top as my new favorite Jurassic installment. Sure, it's stupid - real stupid, in fact - but Gareth Edwards packs this full of delightful monster movie sequences. Hell, I even like the Rancorsaurus.

I also liked some choices around Johansson and Ali's characters. The idea that the world's best black ops contractors would approach conflict through de-escalation was a nice deviation from the usual badasses populating these kinds of worlds.

Would I have liked this more if the premise hadn't insulted my intelligence and left me wondering if the filmmakers even knew that two of the three dinosaurs the leads were after weren't dinosaurs? Sure. I'd have liked it even more if the central character arc and lesson weren't childishly idiotic. But these movies have always been ridiculous adventure flicks, and - for my money, at least - this is one of the better ones. Maybe even the best.

The third season of this Norwegian romantic comedy, like its earlier installments, is unusual in its thoughtful approach to its genre. As a whole, the series chronicles its lead's search for love, which she ultimately finds here (though she found it at the end of the last season, too, with a different guy). Where this differs from American installments is it's seriously acknowledging the limitations of narratives that end "happily-ever-after." The show portrays a wide range of relationships and doesn't pretend that simple platitudes are profound or that there's a single template fitting everyone. The series treats divorce as a reasonable option for finding happiness. It portrays the decision to have kids as a complex one that's not for everyone, including the main character who loves her niece and nephew but doesn't want to be a mother herself.

I'm straining to name a single other romantic comedy series or movie where the protagonist doesn't want kids without that being a character arc she "overcomes." It's refreshing to see something interject a bit of real-world nuance into this formula, while still leaving the overall formula intact (again - happy ending).

This was a satisfying finale for a series I didn't think we'd ever seen concluded. It's definitely worth checking out, if you haven't already.


20. Weapons
I'm a fan of dark fairytales, but not of gore, so maybe that averages out to something approaching objectivity. Not that it matters - this is a subjective list, after all, but it's still interesting (to me, at least) to see how my reactions play out in cases like this.

I enjoyed this one quite a bit, which seems to more or less be in line with the consensus among movie fans and critics. So I don't have much of a hot take here: it's good! Very good, in fact. And cleverly structured, too, with sense of mystery strong enough to leave you uncertain where it's headed even if you go in knowing something you probably shouldn't (I won't drop a spoiler here, just in case, but - for what it's worth I doubt I'd have watched this if I hadn't known the cause was a [redacted]).

My one issue is that, if this is going to borrow so heavily from the Pied Piper and [also redacted], I felt like it could have used a bit more of a clear moral or message, just in keeping with the source material. But that's a minor quibble - overall, I thought this one was quite good.


19. Mickey 17
I love how bizarre this is. Sort of feels like the sci-fi version of a grotesque underground comic from the 70's. Or maybe a throwback to Alien: Resurrection, in the way both embrace almost cartoonish sensibilities in the way their characters are constructed and shot. It's the sort of approach that can absolutely backfire (apologies to fans of Tank Girl, but that one never connected with me), but Bong Joon Ho pulls it off. I spent a great deal of the film almost embarrassed for liking as many of the characters as I did, only for the end to reveal that, despite their compromised morals and questionable actions, the bulk of those weirdos were pretty decent people, all things considered.

Equally impressive, the movie's storyline kept swerving in unexpected - but consistently satisfying - ways. I really didn't know where it was headed for most of the runtime: this doesn't behave like typical movies in this genre. At the same time, the twists never came off as random or weird for the sake of weird: when all's said and done, you realize there was always a rationale to every story beat. That's good writing.

And good acting, too. This features a fantastic cast delivering brilliant performances. All in all, a great movie.

18. Bring Her Back
I'm really not sure if Sally Hawkins playing a dark reflection of Mrs. Brown from Paddington bumps this up or holds it back, but seeing her weaponize her powers of portraying a compelling foster mother for evil certainly stuck with me.

This is, of course, a very good movie, an example of what we used to call "elevated horror," which just means it's a horror movie that leaves you feeling like you need a hug. It's effective in that regard: as a meditation on grief told through the prism of a nightmare, it's second only to The Babadook. But of course whether that's something you want to experience boils down to how you're coping with... well... you know. All the stuff. 2025 was already a hell of a tough year.

Also, be aware it includes some gnarly, gross, gory sequences. Honestly, those probably go a little harder than they should - they don't really enhance the themes or anything - but I understand they're often a kind of a prerequisite for these getting made. Studios generally only greenlight superhero flicks that are PG-13, and they mostly make horror that leans into a hard R, whether it's necessary or not. Price of admission, and all that.

Despite that, I did like this quite a bit. But... damn. Yeah. That "need a hug" impulse was real. I felt that when the end credits rolled.


This is one of those times I feel obligated to remind anyone reading that this list is ranked by "favorite," mainly because The Baltimorons is the kind of movie whose genre holds it back for me. I enjoy a good dramedy (and this is a very good dramedy), but at the end of the day (or year), my nerdy side is almost always going to have an edge over drama, even factoring in my love of everything Christmas.

But that's on me, not the movie, which is a beautifully executed, hauntingly honest character study that retains its humor. It's fantastic, and with any luck should be welcomed into the canon of holiday classics. If I had better taste in movies, this would be in my top five.


I can't imagine anyone expected this to be remotely this good. With the tone and comedic style of an Will Ferrell movie (which under some definitions this is), it manages to skirt the line between family Christmas comedy and parody, delivering an unexpectedly satisfying experience. It helps that the Jonas Brothers turned out to be pretty good at this stuff. Maybe fans of theirs were expecting that, but the rest of us sure weren't.

15. K-Pop Demon Hunters

On one hand, I had a good time watching this, thanks to the inventive fantasy designs and tone, which together felt a little like a Lisa Frank-esque setting updated for this millennium fueled by pop music that incredibly never sounds like it was written for a kid's adventure flick. This is fantasy for today's teenagers (particularly girls), and in that respect it's incredibly successful. Likewise, the characters were fun, the animation looked good (particularly the fight scenes), and the voice actors were great. This was, simply put, a good animated movie.

But obviously there's a "but" coming. Well, two buts if you count the one that opened this paragraph, or three with the one in this sentence, but the one that matters is:

BUT the subtext here makes me really uncomfortable. I realize this wasn't intentional, but the movie works disturbingly well as a sort of anti-immigrant propaganda by virtue of trying to use demons simultaneously as an "invading" army sneaking into our world, a metaphor for anxiety, and... well... sometimes just characters. You can see the movie struggling not to paint them in overly simplistic terms, but it stumbles in the execution, ultimately ending on the message, "they're people, but we need to keep them out to protect ourselves, so we need an impenetrable wall."

Again, I really don't think any of this was what they were trying to do, but rather an unfortunate side effect of juggling a pop-music aesthetic with Korean mythology and modern fantasy/superhero tropes. The objective here was to create art based in representation, but when the dust settles, you're left with something that reads like right-wing scare mongering at a time in history where it's really hard to ignore that.

Setting that aside, the movie also struggles a bit with tone, oscillating between kid-friendly and bizarrely dark (a lot of innocent people sure had their souls devoured). I'm not sure this was as much an issue for me, but I do think it's a bit of an issue for the movie.

Despite my reservations, there's enough good stuff here (particularly in the third act) for me to have enjoyed it quite a bit. But I also spent a lot of the movie flinching at some of the implications, and even more afterwards as I considered them in more depth.

That said, I watched this a second time and... God, it's effective as a modern day operatic fantasy rooted in Korean mythology. If this had been able to fix the subtext, I think it'd be in the #1 spot.


14. Marvel Zombies, Season 1
That "season 1" thing is unnecessary. Whatever confluence of forces allowed this to exist aren't getting repeated anytime soon. Besides, at four episodes, this is more miniseries than season. I'm assuming this and Eyes of Wakanda were greenlit together in lieu of a full season of either.

What took me by surprise here is how entertaining this was. I don't remember being as enthralled with the "What If...?" episode this is spun off of as everyone else, but I really liked these four episodes. I liked the characters, the world, and the tone, which found the right blend of pathos, humor, horror, and adventure. And despite its dark premise and near total body count, this had more of the energy of the MCU in its heyday than most of the studio's recent work.

It helps a bit that this seems to be the rare stand-alone Marvel project. It's got nothing it needs to setup, but it's got a universe full of previous stories to payoff at its leisure. That's how a shared universe - or hell, any franchise - is meant to work: a collective well of established ideas and characters to play with, rather than a marketing machine of teases for potential future projects. A lot of Marvel has drifted into the latter; it's refreshing to get something new that feels more open.


I'm dropping this here with the caveat it could probably gain or lose several spots depending on the time of day - we're well into the "stuff I loved" section, and I'm splitting hairs to decide what I loved two percent more or less.

And, to be clear, there is a lot to love here. Hell, maybe even more than season 1, which was already shockingly good. In the interest of transparency, I'll admit I was skeptical early on. Between the first few episodes taking an unusually lighthearted tone and the series playing light with the danger posed by the mobsters pursuing Charlie, I worried the series was going to abandon its more serious side entirely. But of course it didn't: the lighter episode was part of the show's commitment to approaching each installment as a separate story, as if it were its own mini-movie. The first season played with this idea, particularly in the second half, but season two really ran with it. Some of these mysteries are light and silly (not all even involve a cadaver, and at least one that does leaves room for forgiveness). Meanwhile, others are intense and dark, while some - like the delightfully bonkers finale - defy simple explanation.

On top of all that, the series is fascinating in a lot of ways. Structurally, it's episodic (extremely so, as I just explained), but unlike the bulk of episodic shows, this doesn't reset the status quo at the end of each episode. In fact, Poker Face used its frame story to reshuffle Charlie's setting and situation multiple times over the course of the season, starting with her on the run from the mob, transitioning to a wanderer looking for a home, finding a (somewhat) stable situation in New York, then ultimately having all that upended by a finale that leaves her wanted by the FBI.

None of that really affects the individual episodes, which (other than the finales and occasional plot-heavy installment) are fundamentally standalone mystery stories, but it gives the whole thing a bit more variety in setting than these sorts of shows are usually able to deliver.

I find all that interesting and conceptually impressive, but - let's not kid ourselves - it wouldn't mean much if the individual episodes weren't executed effectively. And if I tell you the acting, directing, and writing of this show just isn't up to the level of quality you'd expect from prestige television, well... you don't have to be the world's greatest detective to know that'd be utter bullshit.


12. Alien: Earth, Season 1
This show is divisive, right? I'm not entirely sure, because my social media interactions are limited to Bluesky these days, and everyone there (myself included) love this kooky show. But based on my experiences with the broader spectrum of fan culture, I'm just assuming a series in which a xenomorph is eventually domesticated by the protagonist is probably going to rile up some people. And, look, if that's a bridge too far for you, I get it. This certainly doesn't set out to be a normal Alien film. If anything, it skews closer to the tone of Alien: Resurrection than the first two films in the franchise (though they drop in an episode more in line with the original about halfway through to prove they can). I actually like Resurrection's comic book sensibilities, so this isn't an unwelcome swerve in my eyes. I certainly don't like it as much as I like the first two movies, but there's not much more you could do with those, aside from just make a "xenomorphs spread over Earth, zombie-style" survivalist action flick. And, okay, I do want that, too someday, but it'd most likely cost even more than this must have.

Wow, that's a very large paragraph.

The series is, as you'd expect from its placement, pretty delightful. I love how weird it was allowed to get with its characters and setting, playing with horror, fantasy, and sci-fi tropes. The premise behind the protagonist builds on ideas from Alien and Blade Runner in ways we haven't seen explored. I also appreciate the skillful way it navigates the whole "is Prometheus in continuity" issue by not giving a damn. Hell, the xenomorph is maybe the third creepiest organic species on the show: who cares if that particular nightmare was bio-engineered or not.

If they make another season of this, I'll watch it in a heartbeat, but if they don't... well... honestly, I don't think you could ask for a better ending than we got here.

The main reason this doesn't make it into the very top tier on this list centers on pacing. When this show is magic, it's really magic, but there's a great deal of time spent just filling out the runtime with dramatic exchanges, too many of which don't feel like they're going anywhere.

That's a minor criticism, though. On the whole, I just found myself grinning through each episode, sometimes through a grimace at the impressive gore effects they pulled off. What a great show.


11. Peacemaker, Season 2
I assume this is an unpopular opinion, but I prefer this season to the first. The first season was very good, of course, but I felt this delivered more... well... fun. Structurally, this season admittedly lacked a strong core story in the vein of Season 1's invasion, but I ultimately found that refreshing. Rather than being built like an extended movie, Season 2 was more like a... what's the word I'm looking for? Oh, right: a TV show. What a concept.

And, sure, a lot of this was worldbuilding and setup for future stuff I hope materializes. Maybe a Peacemaker movie set in Skartaris or wherever he wound up in. And obviously I want a season of Checkmate, now that they're established. Are we still getting that Waller show Gunn keeps promising? Maybe that is Checkpoint. Guess we'll have to wait and see.

I know, I know: we're all supposed to have soured on worldbuilding as a concept. But Gunn does it so well, only including bits and pieces that serve whatever project he's on. I never feel like he's sticking things in these as marketing; at worst, he's wedged something in because it's fun.

I really enjoyed this. I liked how Earth-X didn't end with a massive showdown, but instead with a moment traumatic to the show's title character. I love the reveal around the "boat" backstory, a revelation I didn't know was coming because I'm conditioned to make assumptions when certain lines are uttered and specific questions asked. I love that the last episode was mainly a dramedy about these characters that barely acknowledged the superhero stuff at all. Hell, I love Gunn's playful workaround to shrug off continuity issues around a Universal reboot between seasons, one that became even sillier when he started incorporating additional continuity elements from the Suicide Squad movie he didn't direct (who the hell saw that coming?).

Most of all, I love that Gunn released three DC projects this year, and they were all drastically different but all great. I can't wait to see what's next.


10. Ironheart, Season 1
I feel like the MCU is caught in a catch-22 where if they deliver something that adheres to their usual formula people complain they're stuck in a rut, but when they deviate the consensus is the project isn't good. And, to be clear, sometimes it isn't: Secret Invasion was awful, and Brave New World was at best forgettably mediocre.

But - and I absolutely realize this makes me an outlier - I thought Ironheart was exceptional. The show is grounded in emotion, the characters are universally interesting and likeable, the superpowered crime story is unlike any other Marvel piece we've gotten to date, and the use of music is bordering on Gunn levels of effectiveness.

Personally, I also loved how eager the series was to embrace the mystical side of the medium it's adapting. This is an Iron Man spin-off, and - unlike the three Iron Man movies - it's eager to explore the ways super-technology and magic can interact in genre fiction.

I really hope we get some sort of follow-up on these characters. Hell, I hope we get multiple: I'd love to see a miniseries or movie all about the team of "villains" working for The Hood - they were delightful. 
At present, this is my fourth favorite live-action Disney+ Marvel series after WandaVision, She-Hulk, and Agatha All Along. I really enjoyed this, and I'm disappointed it didn't get a better response.


9. Fantastic Four: First Steps
Arguably as close to a perfect Fantastic Four movie as is possible, my biggest criticism of First Steps might be that it wasn't made twenty years ago. Better late than never, granted, but this feels dated in ways beyond its appropriately nostalgic retro-futuristic '60s aesthetic. This really is the movie they should have made in 2005, back before The Incredibles became a source of nostalgia for people born 30 years after the end of the 1960s. Watching this now almost feels like you're seeing the echo of an idea.

And yet the execution is so good, it hardly matters. The cast is great, the movie pays homage to the source material while still knowing where to bend the rules, and the filmmakers were smart enough to push this outside of the normal Marvel Cinematic Universe, even if it's still getting folded into the Marvel Cinematic Multiverse next year.

That's actually a bit depressing, and I'm speaking as someone who still somehow likes shared cinematic universes. But these characters and this world feel distinct in ways nothing we've gotten from Marvel to date has: I want more in this world, not some promotional crossover with the mainstream MCU, which...

Look, you'd be hard-pressed to find a bigger proponent of the MCU than me. I consider the Iron Man through Endgame run one of the most impressive feats of pop-culture entertainment in history. It reshaped movies and television, while delivering an unprecedented level of consistency. Those movies are good, and seeing that universe form in real time was incredible.

Since then, well... I actually still mostly like the movies and shows, with a handful of obvious exceptions. But while they're still good, they've had trouble evolving. It's not like they haven't tried - The Marvels, Eternals, and Thunderbolts* showed a commendable commitment to bend the rules and try new things, and I enjoyed all those movies. But they're still shackled to continuity and choices that are difficult to ignore: villains in the MCU regularly die and stay dead, secret identities are the exception rather than the rule, costumes feature relatively consistent design choices... And so on. This is a certain kind of comic book universe, and it's not one conducive to continuing forever. The MCU has aged, and attempts to rejuvenate it haven't worked.

But the world introduced in First Steps actually feels new. It looks different. The characters act different and display different codes of ethics. It's exciting.

Watching this, I wanted this to be a proof of concept for whatever reboot is most likely on the way. And maybe it will be, but I'm not getting my hopes up. In the meantime, I'm really not looking forward to whatever they have planned for Doomsday. Fingers crossed I'm wrong about that, but what I know about the premise really doesn't fill me with confidence.


I'm bending my rules on release a bit to justify including this here, but my understanding is there was no legal way to watch this in America last year, so technically it's U.S. release date was in 2025. This is extremely kid friendly, to the point it absolutely functions as preschool entertainment, though it has more than enough artistry in the designs and animation to move adults (I certainly found the ending emotionally powerful).

Like any anthology, some components were more effective than others, though nothing fell below the level of "extremely good" in my opinion. Further, I felt like the quality of the shorts improved over the course of the movie - my ranking would more or less be an inversion of the order they played - so it finished on a high note for me (always better than the alternative).

This one's worth tracking down if you haven't already seen it. My guess is it's well on its way towards becoming an annual tradition across Europe. If it doesn't reach that status in the U.S., it'll reflect poorly on our taste in Christmas media.


7. Predator: Killer of Killers
[Sidenote/Disclaimer/Whatever: I haven't seen Badlands as of making this list]

After only one viewing it's a little difficult to parse how much of my reaction is a proportionate response to the quality, versus how much is shock at an animated direct-to-streaming sci-fi tie-in being (at the very least) as good or better than most of the theatrically related installments in the franchise. 

Because that's the floor here. The ceiling would be saying this is my favorite installment in that franchise. I'm not sure I'm willing to go that far, particularly since Prey exists, but...

I really liked the characters in this. And the fight sequences. And these are hands down my favorite designs for the Predators, finally offering meaningful variation.

The animation is solid, too. You can see where the budget hits its limits, but it's more than enough to get the job done.


6. Wake Up Dead Man: A Knives Out Mystery
I'm going to do my best to say something somewhat substantive without spoiling the hell out of this, but mysteries are like quantum phenomena: observation has consequences. So if you're planning to watch this and haven't already, obviously I liked this, you should definitely check it out, and I absolutely encourage you to just skip to the next spot on the list.

That said, what makes this good isn't a spoiler or a surprise - it's basically the same thing that make the last two installments good. Rian Johnson is absurdly good at making these, and he crafts them with a great sense of humor, fantastic leads, and a ton of twists. As before, the real protagonist is a peripheral character, rather than Benoit Blanc (though he continues to be important, as well).

In terms of the comedy and energy, this might be the best yet, though I continue to hold the structural elements and story of Knives Out have yet to be beaten and - for my money - those elevate it a hair above the sequels.

In this case, that means I found the reveal to feel a touch unfulfilling, despite having figured out a number of details. But the killer's identity and place in the preceding story weren't as interesting this time as either Knives Out or Glass Onion. That part almost feels like an afterthought in Wake Up Dead Man. Fortunately, the character dynamics surrounding the leads were so good I barely cared.


5. Sinners
Forget the horror for a minute; watching this feels like you're seeing Coogler invent a new kind of musical in real time. But if you're here for the horror, that's cool, too, though the movie's almost too fun to be scary.

It's also worth noting this, like all of Coogler's movies, makes use of every character. If someone's on screen for more than a minute or two, they're likely to be compelling and more often than not likeable. Hell, there are some characters who don't stick around that long who I still want a spin-off about.

Just a wonderful, smart, vampire musical horror/action/drama. With laughs, of course.
This really does have it all.


4. Superman
One thing I wouldn't have expected to like but did was Gunn's decision to demystify superheroes as a concept in this movie. Despite embracing the iconography, the movie ultimately treats the concept more as a profession than a legend or calling. I've seen this done in smaller movies and TV (parodies such as the various incarnations of The Tick or Mystery Men tend to go in that direction), but in general the Marvel movies (along with the defunct DCEU) gravitated towards arcs and even themes culminating in the realization that being a hero means something profound. Gunn pointedly tears that idea down in this movie, both textually and in the way these characters are framed. In addition to working well with Clark's story, this approach also establishes a world capable of sustaining an expansive population of colorful characters.

The decision to include an array of comic book elements gives this an energy that - with luck - might sustain a number of connected films. I know I'm something of an anomaly in still defending shared cinematic universes, but I find the concept fun, so long as the universe and marketing aren't allowed to overshadow individual stories (as unfortunately happened with a sizable number of MCU productions over the last five years or so). 

More importantly, this is as funny, sweet, and good-natured as a Superman movie should be. I loved it and look forward to more installments in this version of the DCU.


3. Star Wars: Andor, Season 2
I'm not quite on the "greatest Star Wars we've ever gotten" bandwagon, but I can certainly see where the show's mega-fans are coming from. Season 2 of Andor was certainly something special, both in terms of its quality and its intricately maintained tone. Honestly, I'm a little surprised Disney didn't find a way to release this as four theatrical *movies*, seeing as each of the four arcs was both at the length and quality you'd hope for from that medium. The fact this was casually dropped on Disney+ with relatively little fanfare makes me think the company had no idea what they'd made.

None of that matters to me, of course - I'm not a shareholder, so all I care about is whether it's good and (more importantly) whether I liked it. And of course this is very good stuff, and I absolutely liked it. Loved it even. Just....

Maybe not as much as....

2. Star Wars: Skeleton Crew, Season 1

I'm not saying Skeleton Crew was better or even as good as Andor, but it was still incredibly high quality. And more importantly (to me, at least) the approach was more in line with what I want from the franchise. Andor is pushing Star Wars away from the core of the property: it's more intrigue then adventure, and the mystical space-wizard stuff is toned down to the point it's barely present. To be clear, there are thematic reasons for these choices - good ones, even - and the results speak for themselves. But when we're considering two of the three best live-action Star Wars seasons to date (and that's me being nice and bringing the first season of The Mandalorian into the mix - there's a strong argument these are the two best, hands down), we're going to be splitting some hairs on a vibroblade. And for my money, I'm a little more impressed with a series that modernizes and plays with the core Star Wars style than the one that subverts it (though that's admittedly a reductive assessment of what's happening in Andor).

To be clear, Andor is absolutely fantastic stuff, and the space between it and Skeleton Crew is miniscule. This was a hell of a good year for Star Wars television. But since the whole point of these dumb lists is to choose, well...

In some key respects, Skeleton Crew might be a purer form of Star Wars than we've gotten since... I don't know... Empire Strikes Back maybe? The original movie and its sequel drew from pop-culture to build a fantasy/SF adventure that felt simultaneously original, modern (for the time), and timeless. It was an incredible achievement made possible by treating the setting essentially as a then-modern media collage layered over a template drawn from myth theory.

But starting with Return of the Jedi the franchise started to draw the bulk of its inspiration from itself, rather than from new sources. The prequels tried expanding their field of inspiration to different classic serials and war movies than those referenced by the original series, but Lucas rarely wandered far and stuck with the same underlying ideas concerning myths.

The sequel series was a better set of movies than the prequels, but that was in spite of its choice of references, now almost exclusively drawn from the original films. Most of the TV shows (including some fantastic examples) generally stuck with the same sources, though there was some variation, particularly on the animated side.

Andor and The Acolyte were a bit more interesting and were eager to explore their galaxy from new perspectives. Andor, in particular, is fantastic TV, though I had a hard time connecting with it as Star Wars - it sacrifices the adventurous aspect of the franchise in order to tell a grounded story about resistance. There's nothing wrong with that (in fact, there's a lot right!), but it didn't scratch the same itch for me.

What Skeleton Crew does is return to the drawing board and rebuild the franchise from the ground up. If Star Wars had never been more than moderately popular and had never gotten a sequel, this is what I'd imagine a reboot might feel like. It takes a completely different underlying story (basically Treasure Island instead of Campbell's writings), then superimposes a new series of pulpy pop-culture over it. Instead of recycling Kurosawa and Flash Gordon, Skeleton Crew brings in the media that inspired its creators as children. I caught homages to countless '80s movies, including some surprising ones (anyone else think those pirate skiffs were a nod to the Masters of the Universe movie?).

That, to me, is how you keep this franchise fresh: keep the pulpy, adventurous feel coupled with classic archetypes, but pull in new references and elements.

None of that matters, of course, if the show isn't good. Fortunately, Skeleton Crew is great. It's ridiculous, lighthearted adventure. A well-executed series with likeable characters, incredible production values, and awesome effects. I had a blast with this.


1. Train Dreams

This was the last movie I saw before finalizing this list. I watched it the evening of December 30th, and I don't expect to see anything new tonight, so... this is it. 

That complicates things, because it means I don't have time to digest this. Sometimes something floors me when I watch it, but over the following days or weeks my opinion of it wanes. That absolutely could happen here. Likewise, this is just one of several critically acclaimed projects I hadn't gotten around to - I wound watching this over several options because it happened to be on a streaming service I'm subscribed to. There's a very strong chance I'll like one of the others even more when I eventually catch them.

But the year's ending, and I've got a tradition of posting these on the 31st. So I have to make a call. And this movie hit me emotionally in a way no other really did this year. Part folktale, part history, part existential treatise, it was beautiful, evocative, haunting and cathartic. It portrayed America as being comprised of equal parts wonder and shame, embodying that dichotomy as well as any movie I can think of.

I can't promise I'll feel this way a year, a month, or even a day from now, but - for the moment at least - this is my favorite piece of new media this year.

Tuesday, December 31, 2024

2024 Retrospective

I wouldn't call 2024 a good year in most respects, though I suspect it'll age better than the next few. It was a particularly weird year for movies - studio releases were sparse due to the effects of last year's strike, but rather than create openings for outside-the-box projects to shine, the box office top 10 list was dominated by franchise installments. There was no equivalent to Barbenheimer this year, and Disney took the top two spots with a great sequel to one of their animated films and a franchise superhero flick exemplifying the word "mediocrity."

I saw both of those, though there are quite a few in the top 10 I didn't get to. Beyond that, this has been a light year for me, movie-wise. I haven't really had the time to watch as many movies or shows as I'd have liked throughout. Plus, this year's releases have been somewhat back heavy, so my annual Christmas project delayed me from catching up on numerous things on my watchlist.

But I still managed to see a decent amount, most of which was at least pretty good (I saw plenty of bad stuff as well, but the bulk of that wasn't released in 2024, and therefore falls outside the range of this exercise). Though "good" and "bad" aren't really what this is about, either: as a reminder, this is ranked from my least favorite to most favorite. While there's presumably some overlap between what I like and consider good, it's far from a one-to-one relationship.

Definitely keep that in mind when you get to the #1 spot.

The rules, arbitrary as they might be, are that movies qualify if their US release was in 2024 (you'll see a handful that are technically 2023 movies but were only available overseas or in festivals). TV seasons count if their last episode aired in 2024 (that one's proving to be a problem, but I haven't managed to come up with a better way of doing this).


NOT RANKED: She is Conann

I considered placing this dead last. In a sense, it was the movie I watched this year I enjoyed the least. Hell, it's one of the most unpleasant, disturbing things I've seen in my entire life, which...

Okay, I'm still kind of timid in some respects, so that's not saying all that much. I'd heard this pushed some boundaries, but I naively assumed the sword & sorcery elements would nullify whatever gore was in this. But this thing ain't sword & sorcery. This is post-structural nightmare fuel defying conventional genre, and gore should have been the least of my worries.

I was uneasy watching this. Not so uneasy I couldn't finish; I wasn't physically ill or anything, and I was oddly captivated by the whole thing, but I very much did not enjoy it. But even with all the caveats around this being a subjective list, I can't bring myself to place this last. It's supposed to be unpleasant. It's supposed to challenge the viewer. It's supposed to disgust us and - if we like Conan - I'm pretty sure it's supposed to insult us.

In that respect, I kind of think this is a masterpiece. Visually, it's genius, even if it's the sort of genius I never want to watch again. It's repulsive art, and that deserves praise. Hell, it might be one of the better movies I saw this year.

Also, as I said a moment ago, I was captivated. This movie was many things, but it sure as hell wasn't dull. It elicited emotion masterfully. But I really disliked the experience and have no desire to revisit it.

If you're reading this and wondering whether you might want to give this one a shot, here's my advice: there's a 2021 body horror movie called, "Titane." Watch that first, then when you're done tell yourself the guy who was disgusted by She is Conann liked Titane. Then proceed accordingly.


THE RANKING

54. Joker: Folie Ă  Deux

Keep in mind, this is a ranking based on preference, not quality. If I'd been doing this from worst to best, this would swap places with Madame Web and only be the second worst movie I saw this year. But Madame Web had a sort of energetic badness that was weirdly fun to watch as it all unraveled into nonsense. Joker: Folie Ă  Deux just got more and more boring as it went.

The first third wasn't so bad. It was bad, mind you. But not so bad. For a while I was really convinced I was going to say I liked this better than its predecessor. But, for all its faults, the 2019 movie was nowhere near this boring. Also, it was anchored by a fantastic performance from Phoenix. That performance was largely wasted, granted, but it was there. This time... not so much.

I don't think it's Phoenix's fault - this script just didn't have the same interest in building up a character. Instead, Folie Ă  Deux is mostly interested in wedging in musical numbers. Astonishingly bad, profoundly dull musical numbers that don't move the story forward or offer any kind of depth to the characters or themes.

There are a couple cool sets, I guess. The cinematography is mostly pretty good. But... Jesus... what a slog.


53. Madame Web

Madame Web's villain spends the movie trying to escape fate, only to discover that his actions have merely brought him to the end he was trying to outrun. In the same vein, the movie appears to have been produced with the goal of not being another Morbius, as the tone and style are virtually the opposite of that film's. And yet, in the end, whatever Sony's executives said and did to avoid another Morbius resulted in just that.

On some level, I can respect at least some of what they were trying to do here. The movie's stylized with comic sensibilities: between that and the setting, I'm guessing they wanted to evoke the Raimi Spider-Man movies. Or perhaps the director was inspired by the 2002 Birds of Prey series the movie seems to homage in its closing minutes. Honestly I found myself thinking of that show quite a bit earlier: this looks a lot like a CW show from that era.

That isn't a good thing.

Not a lot about Madame Web is, really. While I respect what they were going for, it fails on levels I've rarely encountered in movies with this kind of budget. You can make out the edges of the style they were influenced by, but it's too subdued to convey the campy fun that can let that style work. Lines of dialogue that are meant to be funny (I think) instead just linger awkwardly.

And worst of all, the action utterly fails to deliver on the promise of a precog battling an evil Spider-Man, a premise I actually think could have had quite a bit of potential in the right hands. But the movie really feels as though it's made by people who don't understand the genre elements they're playing with, and consequently we're not even given sequences of the character learning from failed timelines in order to create one in which she wins. That's the bare minimum you should get from putting these powers onscreen - this is failing on a basic "show don't tell" level.

Setting all that aside does this no favors: if anything, its characters and their relationships fare even worse. None of these people behave rationally, and the closest this comes to character development is having various characters repeat cliched behavior ad nauseum.

It's all astonishingly bad, to the point that, even after months of hearing how bad this was, I was left dumbfounded by the realization that the reviews weren't exaggerated or unfair: this really is as awful as you've heard. Just a pointless, boring, emotionally empty attempt at building out a cinematic sub-universe no one asked for.


52. Lisa Frankenstein

Lisa Frankenstein has two central issues which, when compounded, prevent the film from working. First, the movie either lacks or fails to convey a point. I'm using a fairly broad definition of "point" here: no strong theme comes through, it doesn't really satirize culture in a way that has traction, and the characters aren't likeable or interesting enough to stand on their own. Simply put, outside a surface-level homage to '80s goth movies, it wasn't clear to me what this was trying to do. While I can't discount the possibility I just failed to "get it," the movie's lackluster critical response makes me suspect this is a pretty common response. The movie's fans seem to cite its design and comedy style, which....

Okay, the design is pretty great, no question there. The sets, costuming, and perhaps most importantly lighting are all on point, and - depending on how invested you are with the look - that might even be enough to warrant checking this out. It wasn't enough for me, however, and the reason mainly boils down to the aforementioned comedy.

To be fair, this has some great jokes and standout moments. But I didn't find it consistently funny enough to be able to ignore just how empty the whole thing left me feeling. That's the other central issue - it's just not funny or entertaining enough to work in spite of its lack of substance. And it really needs one or the other: either it needs to feel meaningful, or it needs to be fun.

Style alone can only take it so far.


51. The Christmas Quest

It's probably my fault for hoping for more.

But as soon as I realized I was watching a Hallmark Christmas movie romcom set in Iceland incorporating elements of pulp adventure with a premise centered around the Yule Lads, I allowed myself to get excited. I didn't even need it to be good - fun and interesting would be enough.

And, to be fair, aspects were. The use of Icelandic actors and locations was a great start, and there were some fun moments. However the movie failed completely to capitalize on the interesting possibilities and tones offered by its genre. There's no suspense or excitement here - not even an attempt.

I like that Hallmark is trying new things. I just really need them to try a little harder.


50. Carnage for Christmas

I almost put this in the "not ranked" section, because I feel a little bad comparing an independent production made by a 20-year-old with films with much higher budgets. And, to be clear, Carnage for Christmas displays more innovation and skill than a number of movies placing much higher on this list, to say nothing of actually having a reason to exist that's not tied to a corporate earnings report. The fact this is this low isn't a reflection of the talent involved, only the realities of low-budget filmmaking. The fact it beats out a few major productions, on the other hand, is incredible and indicates writer/director Alice Maio Mackay is probably going to become a household name sooner or later.

But like it or not, money (or more specifically production value) counts. On top of that, this really isn't my favorite genre: there are slashers I like, but it takes a lot to win me over. This comes close at times with its effective use of heavily stylized lighting, but at the end of the day I found the cheap sets a little too distracting and the overly complex storyline unsatisfying.

At the end of this movie I was left extremely impressed with Mackay but not so much with the film.


49. Sugarplummed

This Hallmark holiday spoof has a strong start but fizzles out about halfway through. What's supposed to be a sendup of Hallmark tropes and cliches devolves into one itself, then even seems to celebrate that with a self-serving finale suggesting the corporation is itself a meaningful Christmas tradition.

And maybe it is, but for fuck's sake they shouldn't put it in their movies (sorry for the cursing, but watching Hallmark movies leaves you hungry for that kind of language).

I liked a lot of the humor in the first half. This thing really does have fun with its premise for a while, and Janel Parrish seems to be having the time of her life channeling Amy Adams from Enchanted. I also appreciated seeing one of these where the central relationship is a friendship between two women, rather than the usual romance. But even during the good parts, there are moments where this can't escape the Hallmark curse: almost from the start this embraces the Christmas movie cliche where the lead is explicitly fixated on giving her family a perfect Christmas. I didn't like it when Clark Griswold learned his lesson in 1989, I haven't liked it in the Christmas Vacation knockoffs through the '90s and '00s, and I certainly don't like that it's become a go-to motivation for Hallmark and its imitators now.

Just so we're clear, the point of a character flaw is for the audience to identify with it. Taking Christmas too seriously would be something most everyone would understand. Being fixated on making Christmas perfect... not so much. Dial this back, Hallmark.

I could have let that slide if the movie had maintained its comedic sensibilities and delivered something consistently fun, but by the halfway mark the fun has basically dissipated, leaving us with a generic second half. That's not the worst thing in the world, mind you - when Hallmark is on point, they're fine, and this certainly averaged out to "fine."



48. Red One 

This was not a good movie.

Expanding on that is difficult, because it's the rare case where virtually every element is off. This has serious structural problems, the leads aren't right for their respective roles, the pacing is abysmal, the component genres aren't properly integrated, the design philosophy is completely wrong with the premise, the jokes aren't funny, and the drama is empty. Just... bad.

Most of the reason this isn't lower on my list is that it's hard to spend $250 million dollars on something like this without winding up with a handful of cool sequences (even Batman v Superman had Wonder Woman). While the bulk of action scenes belong in the last paragraph, there are a couple I enjoyed (the snowmen fight and Krampus castle being the main examples). I also liked at least some of the choices this made around incorporating holiday lore, though at least as many decisions frustrated and annoyed me.

Again, not a good movie. But aspects were fun, and I didn't make the mistake of paying to see it (I can't imagine how disappointing this would have been on the big screen). On a purely subjective level, this lands here, but if I were trying to rank this according to quality... well... it would still have beaten Madame Web, at least.


47. Hundreds of Beavers 

Conceptually, I really like what this movie is doing. Drawing inspiration from silent comedies (in particular I'm reminded of Charlie Chaplin's The Gold Rush), as well as live-action kid's shows, classic Warner Bros cartoons, and '80s video games, they've created something unique while simultaneously exploring connections and similarities between these mediums, genres, and styles. It's certainly fascinating as an experiment and a lot smarter than the intentionally juvenile humor suggests.

But as a full-length movie, I found it a little grating. The jokes, while frequently funny, started feeling recycled long before the ending, and when the credits finally rolled I found myself wishing there'd been more of a story or character arc. And before you accuse me of missing the point of these self-contained comedic antics, keep in mind that the Chaplin movies these are playing off of incorporated emotional character arcs tying together similar bits more than a century ago.

The other thing holding this back for me is that I'm a little uncomfortable with the subject matter. Obviously, this is subjective, but the choice to build the movie around a fur trader who ultimately annihilates a civilization (albeit a fantasy beaver civilization) without really touching on underlying moral issues or the inherent subtext leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

Granted, this is a uncharitable reading. You could interpret the movie's existence as satirizing the history of media whitewashing cultural genocide and mass murder - it occurs to me some punchlines here could be viewed as highlighting the immorality and lack of reflection I'm accusing the movie of. But if that was the intent, it doesn't really come across in execution.

Despite all this, I really do appreciate the way the film's references are blended, drawing out ways the desperate genres and styles evolved into or inspired each other, long before they all inspired Hundreds of Beavers. And I certainly laughed quite a bit through the movie - I had a good time. But if this was going to be a movie rather than a series of shorts (and particularly a movie with this premise), I wanted more than I got from the characters or story here.


46. An Almost Christmas Story 

I have complicated feelings about David Lowery's Christmas special. Honestly, "complicated feelings" tends to describe my reaction to Lowery's work in general, with the addendum my opinions almost always land on the "liked or loved it" end of the spectrum, despite a handful of reservations. This time is different, though that's less a reflection of the special's quality than my background and interests.

Like most of Lowery's work, An Almost Christmas Story is largely about tone. In this case, I mean literally about tone: this thing is a meditation on Christmas media and its proclivity towards tones exploring the space between loss and hope.

The problem is I'm a little too well versed in that topic. I know about the melancholy nature of holiday entertainment, I know it's history, and - unless my theory is way off base - I know where it comes from. There's not much of a story beyond its themes and vibes, so if you don't click with its ideas (as I didn't), there's not a lot else.

I thought this looked beautiful and have to admit I was fooled by the animation (until looking it up after, I really thought it was stop-motion). Some character moments were good, and I thought it was all technically well executed. But despite its merits, this just didn't win me over.


If I was only rating the first half, this would be ranked quite a bit higher, but this high concept Christmas romcom runs out of steam and plot around the halfway mark. As the movie downshifts and pretends the stakes (which were already pretty low, even by the standards of this subgenre) weren't already mostly resolved, the movie loses its edge.

All that being said, there's something to appreciate about a movie like this embracing sex positivity without sacrificing the wholesome, family holiday vibe. Plus, the film delivers some solid jokes, as well as some good performances from the leads... though those leads are a mixed bag. I think they do amazing work in isolation, but as a couple they lack any believable connection. In a movie where one of them is becoming an amateur stripper to help the other, that's kind of a big setback.


44. Hot Frosty 

This is better than it had to be. Hell, it was probably better than it had any right to be, given that it's a Netflix romantic comedy greenlit to capitalize on the inherent absurdity of its premise. But solid writing, direction, and some inspired casting choices resulted in something decent. Not great, mind you - I wouldn't even go all the way to "good" - but decent.


This one suffers a lot from comparisons to its predecessor. The first Adult Swim Yule Log presented the world with a Lynchian horror film hidden inside of what was advertised as and at first appeared to be a literal Yule Log video. Between that outlandish concept and shockingly high quality, the movie felt revolutionary: a fantastic comedy/horror with layered themes that seemed to materialize from nothing.

I feel bad for its sequel: that's a hell of a thing to have to live up to. And I respect the decision not to try and duplicate the formula. This instead spins off in a new direction, following its lead character into different (albeit related) subgenres. And it has some interesting things to say about the genres, as well as cinematic language and genre conventions in general. And once again director Casper Kelly shows an aptitude for theme as he uses this outlandish premise to explore trauma.

But while all that's clever (and ultimately pretty good), it lacks the spark that elevated its predecessor above the level of a cable TV movie.


42. Ghostbuster: Frozen Empire 

Was Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire going to be a season-long TV series that got turned into a movie, and they just forgot to restructure the plot? There's around a half-dozen *main* plotlines, and each gets maybe five minutes of screentime between half-hearted comic relief and VFX heavy action set pieces.

It's a mess of a movie, and yet...

I didn't hate it. Hell, I'd take it over Afterlife any day of the week (though neither holds a psychically manipulated candle to the 2016 reboot). But the design on the villain is great, a lot of the jokes that feel ad-libbed are fun (not so much the scripted), and some of the ideas had a lot of merit (pity the movie didn't actually develop any of them, but still it's fun to think about).

Not the worst in the franchise (again, that's Afterlife) but falls far short of the installments that are actually good. Still, I was left feeling like I'd welcome more in this series, which is more than I could say last time.


I honestly don't know where to put this. The film represents an extremely ambitious exploration of the limits of narrative structure, pointedly establishing potential arcs and abandoning them. It's a movie that delights in setting up Chekhov's guns and pointedly highlighting its decision not to fire them. The film has little resolution in the traditional sense, turning instead to the audience's perception as a source of change and growth. It's a fascinating idea, in the abstract.

In practice... I'm not so sure. I found the experience of watching this a bit tedious, as did many others. At the same time, I'm hesitant to write this off too quickly - films this far outside the norm have a history of aging well, and it's entirely possible we'll all be singing its praises in a decade or so.

40. Echo, Season 1

I'm torn on Echo. There's a lot to like about this show, starting with the fact it actually delivers a superhero who feels unlike the scores of those who came before her. Conceptually, of course, you can see where the show is drawing ideas from Daredevil, but as much as I love Charlie Cox's take on that character, the fact Echo actually cast an actress who communicates through sign and is an amputee kind of makes the Man Without Fear look like a poser. As an action star, Alaqua Cox feels new and authentic, and the show makes good use of her talents.

Where it stumbles is tone and pace. I can't think of another series that seemed this confused as far as whether it was intended for an adult or young audience, featuring bleak, violent sequences that give way to childish sincerity in the last episode.

That sincerity was actually a saving grace, at least as far as I was concerned. While I was rolling my eyes when the show explained the meaning of Echo's name for the third or fourth time, I eventually came around to accept and even embrace the heartfelt love this clearly had for its characters and their background.

I felt less generous towards the pacing. It's not that the series is too long - it's only five episodes. The problem is that Echo isn't plotted right for its length. If they'd had ten episodes instead of five, I think the numerous side stories and minor characters would have worked better. But as is they don't have space to feel flushed out, and several feel like distractions from the more interesting narrative at the series' core. I understand why we needed connections for Maya to care about, but we really didn't need this many.

Still, what works here works really well. I kept thinking of Fast and the Furious while watching, in the way both blend a sort of innocent wonder with action. I enjoyed this one quite a bit, despite aspects that just didn't click with me.



39. Deadpool & Wolverine 

The perfect conclusion to the Fox Marvel legacy. And if you think that's a compliment, you've forgotten most of the Marvel movies Fox produced.

Look, there is good stuff here. Jackman delivers a good performance, some of the jokes land, and the scale is impressive. It's just that (aside from a couple moments) the movie lacks any real dramatic weight when it needs it, and even when it's funny the comedy feels formulaic. It's fun seeing some of these characters again, sure, but the movie doesn't seem to have anything to do with most of them beyond leaning on references. 

Again, this is still fine. Hell, for a couple sequences it's better than fine. But on the whole this is a decent but unremarkable comedy action flick. If this were a Netflix movie, that'd suffice, but I expect more from a Deadpool film.


38. Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire 

Sort of a mashup of what I assume started as two separate movie scripts: a standalone Mothra flick and the titular Godzilla/Kong team up. Of the two, I preferred the human-centered Mothra story, which is a surprising reaction to one of these. The Godzilla/Kong/Scar King stuff was fun enough, but any sense of scale or grandeur beyond "amped-up music video" was missing. That said, I dug the Lisa Frank infused designs and constant '80s energy driving this. It was neat and fun, no question; for better or worse, it felt like an adventure cartoon in the vein of a Kaiju-fied GI Joe movie, which is hardly a bad thing. But all things considered, this felt kind of trivial and disposable in a way none of its predecessors did.


37. Drive-Away Dolls 

Usually when I say a movie is half good and half bad, I mean it's got good and bad elements interspersed throughout - in this case, I mean I found the first half a chore to sit through, but the second half was kind of delightful. To be fair, I suspect I'd enjoy the first half at least a little more on rewatch - some of the difference can be attributed to the movie taking its time acclimating the viewer to its tone and style. But even if it (mostly) pulls it off, it's hard to entirely dismiss feeling like you're watching an awkward, trashy flick for forty-five minutes.

But once it's set everything up, the ending delivers genuine laughs and a gleeful sense of mischief. I can't say I loved this or consider it an instant classic, but by the time the end credits rolled I felt like I'd had a pretty good time.

There's no denying starting slow then ending on a high note is better than the reverse.


36. Star Wars: Tales of the Empire (Season 1) 

Sidenote: I think this is technically the second season of the Tales of the Jedi anthology series released last year, but I'm going to use the title it was released under. There's been so much Disney+ Star Wars over the past few years, it's difficult to figure out how any of it's supposed to be cataloged.

While it admittedly feels more like a diversion than an event, this Star Wars micro-series makes unusually good use of the format. You'd be hard pressed to recut these into either multi-part arcs in existing Star Wars shows or short films - this actually felt like the show was exploring a type of stories the franchise hasn't attempted before, to good effect.

Good but not great (or at least not impactful). While the approach was new, we've gotten so many animated Star Wars adventures of varying quality, it's hard to see this as anything more than yet another entry. While this is well above average, it's a long way from the best the series has produced, which - fair or not - is almost the bar for getting noticed at this point.

Still, this makes for an enjoyable watch. I like how the two stories mirror each other: one is a tragic fall, while the other a hopeful tale of redemption. It's also nice getting some time with a pair of underused force user groups in the Nightsisters and Inquisitors respectively.


35. Monkey Man 

This one was a little frustrating, particularly because I enjoyed it overall and absolutely loved the action scenes. The problem is that only half the movie plays out like an action/revenge flick, with the other half seemingly aiming for a dramatic thriller merging Indian and American action tropes. Or at least I think that's what Patel is aiming for in his directorial debut - honestly, I've only see a handful of actual Indian action movies, so I'm not exactly an expert on the industry. But from my limited experience, elements of Monkey Man echoed aspects of cinema I've seen there that aren't typical in modern US productions, or at least not those taking themselves this seriously. I'm talking about antagonists seemingly motivated by pure evil, political parallels explored textually rather than subtextually, and a wide-ranging tone that ultimately leans towards the dramatic despite an otherwise fun premise.

To be clear, none of that's inherently good or bad - these are conventions, nothing more. But in the case of this movie, combining melodrama with John Wickian shenanigans winds up feeling jumbled and confused. The audience wants to have a good time, and when the action picks up the movie seems to want to let them: again, the action here is phenomenal. But the movie's quieter moments hold everything back.

I should note the scenes concerned with religion and the hijra temple are an exception: that stuff worked (though maybe we could have done without having half of them gunned down at the end). It's the time spent wallowing in the depressing nature of the lead's life, as well as the amount of time devoted to spelling out the film's themes and politics.

To be clear, those politics are good in and of themselves. I'm not saying I'd have preferred a different theme, nor am I suggesting movies should try to be less political or any such nonsense. But this is a case where the manner in which those themes and political messages are spelled out makes the experience less compelling than it could otherwise have been.

I respect what Patel was going for here, particularly if I'm right about him borrowing heavily from Indian cinema in how the film is structured. But while it's an interesting idea, it just doesn't come together in a way that melds its sources. You're left feeling like you're cutting back and forth between two movies, one of which is rad as hell and other... kind of dull.


34. Dear Santa 

I'm a bit of an outlier here, but I had a lot of fun with this one. The movie does a good job folding a premise you'd expect to be a bit darker into a family friendly template without losing the sense you were watching something a little edgy, even if the "edge" in question is mostly an illusion. I enjoyed the way the movie's story follows diversions, which are allowed to be a bit weirder than usual.

At the same time, there's no denying the script could have used some work, and there were a handful of jokes that should absolutely have been cut. As I said in my main review, the ending also felt like a missed opportunity.

But on the whole I thought this was well executed and offered a nice alternative to the typical holiday comedies.


33. Frieren: Beyond Journey's End (Season 1) 

For better or worse, Frieren struggles to decide where it falls on the scale of offbeat fantasy and high concept genre reinvention, ultimately waffling back and forth. The premise seems to imply the latter, as it more or less proclaims its intent to explore philosophical issues surrounding the ephemeral nature of existence using the lens of high fantasy tropes. Early on, I expected it was going to use its setting without resorting to the genre's usual storylines and cliches. The series more or less promises to be a fantasy series set after the adventure is over.

And, to a limited degree, it delivers on that promise. We get existential exploration, characters contending with a world less exciting than perhaps they want, and the like. But interspersed throughout we also get multi-episode plot arcs around some pretty generic setups and battles.

Making the whole thing more complicated, the generic stuff is ultimately very good here. The show's use of magic is interesting, the specialization makes for fascinating side characters, and the fights are exciting. Taken individually, this stuff made for my favorite moments... and that's sort of a problem.

The underlying issue is that the series premise can't sustain the episode count, requiring what amounts to filler. And, again, the filler is really good, but it comes at the expense of actually delivering on the show's central conceit. We're left with something really engaging and fun, but that never really answers the questions it asks in a satisfying way. This also has the unfortunate effect of making the time invested in the early episodes feel a little wasted, as it takes longer setting everything up than is really necessary.

On top of that, I should note the series engages in one of the genre's most problematic tropes by demonizing (quite literally, in fact) a species in order to justify a policy of extermination rather than coexistence. For what it's worth, this does so in a manner more interesting than usual, adding in some intriguing twists around the way demons think and view others. But it's hard to justify fantasy narratives coming out in favor of genocide released in 2024.

Despite its limitations, the show is never short of fascinating, and I kept getting pulled in by the action and surprised by its choices. Numerous characters I'd written off as villains were revealed to be likeable and even fundamentally benevolent. Assuming more is on the way, I'll absolutely check it out. Its failings are less an issue around the experience of watching than aspects holding this back from being some sort of instant classic or offering a profound statement on its genre. Normally, that wouldn't be much of an issue, but it really feels like it sets out to deliver something much more impactful than it manages to be.


32. Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga 

Taken on its own merits, Furiosa is an emotionally rich post-apocalyptic fairytale with some phenomenal action sequences and awe-inspiring designs. The problem is that it doesn't exist in a vacuum, but rather as a follow-up to one of the best regarded action films of the current millennia. And, as should surprise no one, it doesn't measure up to its predecessor.

The movie doesn't really provide us much in the way of character development we haven't already covered in Fury Road. From a character standpoint this feels redundant - even more so when the film introduces a Max stand-in as a love interest. I had fun getting a closer look at some of the locations touched on only briefly in the last movie and had fun with the action sequences. Likewise, I thought the movie's antagonist was fantastic (someone needs to cast Chris Hemsworth as a pirate STAT).

Surprisingly, this film wasn't in any tangible way about the title character's relationship to Immortan Joe, who's barely a presence here at all. I'm not sure whether that's an issue - in some ways it's probably a merit, since it sidesteps risks of turning this into even more of an exercise in lore building. But it does feel like an opportunity was missed to add depth to Furiosa's hatred of the warlord. The same goes for Joe's wives, who also only appear fleetingly - this would have been a good time to expand on her relationship with one or more of them, considering the risks she takes to get them to safety in Fury Road. 

Again, none of that's absolutely required, and I certainly enjoyed the story we got in its place. But given how monumental Fury Road felt, I can't help but feel a little underwhelmed by a prequel that comes off as solid but unnecessary.


31. Late Night With the Devil 

Shudder has been getting a lot of mileage out of period horror recently. I'm mostly familiar with their Christmas stuff (The Sacrifice Game, Brooklyn 45, etc.), but this is playing with some similar gimmicks.

This movie's main selling point is its premise: a horror movie mainly comprised of a fictional broadcast of a supposedly forgotten '70s late night talk show. What quickly becomes apparent is the movie is caught in a catch-22: when it sticks too closely to that premise, it gets a little boring, but when it drifts too far from what could plausibly count as "found footage," the whole thing starts unraveling.

For a good portion of the middle, they get the balance right, and that section is fun, tense, and interesting. The issue is the end, where they lean too far towards the fantastic. At some point, the found footage movie feels like it loses the found footage angle. They leave some ambiguity as far as whether that's technically the case, but experience isn't defined by technicalities. And horror movies tend to sink or swim on the experience they offer.

This stuff was still well executed, but I certainly felt as though the project lost its edge, resulting in a film falling short of greatness that was within its grasp.


30. Hit Man 

On the surface, it's a fantastically dark comedy that ratchets up the tension it builds before (spoiler alert) ending on the most anti-noir note imaginable. Underneath that, it makes for an intriguing meta-textual examination of truth and identity, a point driven home in the tongue and cheek acknowledgement in the end credits. Whichever aspect suits your fancy, you're in for a good time.



29. Terminator: Zero 

My two main takeaways from this are that the show's plot is only tangentially part of the Terminator franchise (to the point I wonder if it started as an unrelated story), and... that it's still probably the best path forward for the Terminator franchise. This is basically an elaborate, ponderous SF story about time travel, temporal wars, and all the elaborate stuff that Terminator movies avoid because it's more complicated than "slasher robot tries to murder someone."

As an anime series, this is great. As a Terminator story, it's even better. As a Terminator show... well... there's the awkward part. As much as I love this, Terminator wants to be live-action: it just works better that way. That's not to say I didn't have a blast, but I found myself consistently wishing they'd use this as a blueprint for the next movie, because - as good as this is in its current form - it would carry far more weight in its original medium.


28. The Acolyte, Season 1 

The quality of this series is almost less important than how exciting it is to see something new from the franchise, which is a good thing because said quality is a bit hit-or-miss. That's more true in the first half than the second: this picks up momentum as it goes and builds into something genuinely great by episode 7... before backsliding slightly in the finale. Not too far, fortunately - the eighth installment is still solid - but it's a notable drop from what came directly beforehand. 

All that makes it hard to rank, of course. I love what this does for Star Wars, a property near and dear to my heart, and I loved a great deal of this show. A decade ago this would have blown my mind, but that was before I got spoiled by an endless string of "prestige TV" managing to deliver the quality of a motion picture on the small screen. 

This doesn't do that. To be fair, unlike most of the Disney+ Star Wars shows, it neither tries nor pretends that's its goal. And the show itself is consistently fascinating and (for my money, at least) more interesting and exciting than most of the others. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't find myself wishing the production values had been a little higher. Still, I'm really annoyed we're not getting more of this.


27. Damsel 

I'm not saying the ending isn't dumb, because obviously it's a dumb ending. And, yeah, this needed another script revision or four to fix the dialogue. Or maybe four fewer script revisions - sometimes these things start pretty good and get sabotaged by idiot executives with notes. All I know is that wasn't the right number of rewrites, because a lot of that dialogue was NOT GOOD. 

But you know what was good? Basically all the dragon stuff. Is this basically Alien but with a dragon? Yes. Is that basically awesome? Also yes.

No one's going to call this a perfect film, but it's tense, engaging, and (aside from that one shot at the end that looked like a video game cutscene) visually impressive. I had a lot of fun with it.

All that being said, if they ever want to make one of these feminist action/fantasies not stupid, they should maybe consider hiring women to write and direct them, because between this and The Princess, they're currently 0 for 2 on that count (though I still loved the hell out of both movies, so take that for what it's worth).


26. Batman: Caped Crusader, Season 1 

Like many in my generation, I consider Batman: The Animated Series (along with its various spinoffs) one of the most influential and best television series of my lifetime. That of course complicates my relationship to this show, which is perhaps best described as an alternate approach to the same underlying idea (being undertaken by one of the original showrunners, no less). The question sort of became where this would fall on the spectrum between existing as an unofficial continuation of the series (such as the almost-but-not-quite-in-continuity movie, Justice League: Crisis on Two Earths) and an entirely new show with a handful of borrowed elements (this could describe virtually every DC animated show and movie since that wasn't overseen by Bruce Timm).

The answer is somewhere in the middle. This sticks relatively close to the formula of The Animated Series, albeit with somewhat more mature themes and content. That alone isn't really enough to sell this: we've seen plenty of takes on this stuff boasting PG-13 material that falls far short of the '90s show.

What turns out more promising is an approach that leans more into the noir and pulp horror influences narratively and tonally. The '90s series was always more a superhero comic brought to life with visual inspiration drawn from media of the 1930s through 1950s; Caped Crusader features stories, characters, and themes that are much more tangibly drawn from those sources... or at least about half of it does.

It's the other half I find frustrating. A lot of this stops at simply giving us alternate versions of characters and situations, still told as if they're generic Batman stories (the Penguin episode being the most immediate example). None of these felt particularly bad, but simply rehashing ideas and beats better managed three decades ago just doesn't cut it.

On the other hand, episodes like the one centered on Harley Quinn or Firebug approach morally complex questions about law enforcement and obsession that prior television incarnations of Batman only dared hint at. These offered a new and exciting direction for the franchise. If this had maintained that commitment to quality storytelling, this show could possibly have risen to the level of its predecessor.

As it is, we still got half a great show, which is a long way from a failure. But unlike the original, this isn't entirely episodic: the series is trying to develop a larger world and story. The problem with that is it's harder to shrug off aspects or episodes that contradict that vision. I still really enjoyed this, but I can't quite say I loved it as a whole, even if I did love about half of the episodes.


25. Knuckles: Season 1 

One of the year's biggest surprises, Knuckles is - shockingly - actually pretty good. I should note that I mostly enjoyed the two Sonic movies in spite of themselves, but I'm under no illusions they weren't bad. But this fixes most of the major issues, or at least does so for enough of the combined runtime to feel satisfying (a runtime, I should note, that's more inline with a long movie than a traditional television season, but that feels about right for the story).

Excluding the pilot (which is directed by the guy behind the movies), this has a brighter color palette, correcting the bizarre decision the films made to make this property of all things look dark and gritty. In addition, the slower pace and lower stakes keep this focused on its leads. 

The series isn't perfect - some of the jokes fall flat, they underuse the main villain, and the show practically broadcasts where it's inspiration is drawn from (I like Peacemaker, too). But for all those flaws, there are genuinely great comedic moments and at least one absolutely transcendent action sequence. I put this on hoping for something "so bad it's good", and was instead pleased to find something good.


24. Rebel Ridge 

A tense, grounded action flick reminiscent of First Blood in both tone and use of police as antagonists, despite being built around a protagonist who's essentially the exact opposite of John Rambo. The movie succeeds thanks to a combination of exceptional direction and an equally exceptional lead performance.

The last act, while still good, doesn't quite live up to the rest, which is why I'm not ranking this even higher. But no mistake: this one's worth checking out.


23. Beetlejuice Beetlejuice 

Like the original, this doesn't leave all that much of an impression, but it makes for an enjoyable experience. These movies are mostly exercises in design and tone, coupled with some delightful comedic performances, which is all you can really ask for from this premise. This isn't Burton at his best, but it captures all his whimsy, free from pretense or (as far as I can tell) studio interference. Here's hoping they actually give us a third installment. I had fun with this.


This is one of those movies that forces me to reflect on the semantics behind the term, "favorite." That's not even touching on quality, which I'm already struggling to gauge here - I feel comfortable saying it's a good movie, but I'm hedging on weighing in on just how good.

The problem is I was utterly and completely transfixed watching Merry Christmas for reasons completely unrelated to the film's quality, or even my own enjoyment, really. I found what the movie is as an artifact so fascinating, everything else kind of fell by the wayside. This is an Indian film that feels genuinely Hitchcockian which also fits seamlessly in the tradition of Christmas noir, which (as I'm guessing anyone reading already knows) I'm kind of obsessed with.

All of that left me with the feeling I was studying the movie more than experiencing it. I absolutely loved the experience of studying it, but is that the same as loving the movie? I'm honestly not sure.

You can read my review and thoughts about the film over on Mainlining Christmas. But as far as ranking this is concerned, I'm kind of dropping it somewhat arbitrarily here for lack of being able to make up my mind.


21. Monarch: Legacy of Monsters, Season 1

If this had been six episodes instead of ten, I think it might have been in competition for the top of my list. As it is, I had a blast, not just seeing these iconic monsters on the small screen but also getting time to explore a world that's had to adapt to their presence. The most memorable moment in the series isn't one where Godzilla appears (though those were great, too) but rather the time he didn't.

My only real complaint is that it felt like the story being told was stretched a little thin. I didn't mind the show holding back its monsters for the first half, but after a while it started feeling like it was spinning its wheels. Which... I mean... that's what it was doing, right? Killing time to meet an arbitrary episode count?

I want to stress this is a nitpick. The show was a joy to watch overall, the characters were fun, and when the series reached points where its budget landed on screen they were breathtaking. This was a great program, and I loved it.

I'd just have loved it more if it had been more concise.


20. Alien: Romulus 

This obviously isn't the best Alien installment. Or the second. Third place is probably out, too, though I bet we all disagree which movie that is.

But Romulus... It's pretty solid, right? Nothing all that new or innovative, but they did the thing, they did it well, and it was fun. This raised the series average, which is about all you can ask from the ninth movie in a horror franchise. I don't have any real complaints outside of them using deep fake bullshit for that one character. Oh, and some of the subtext should probably have been thought through a little more (not the anti-corporate stuff, though - that was all great).

I also appreciate that they took a mulligan on the thing from Resurrection everyone's been laughing at for twenty-five years and mostly made it work. Well played.


19. Molli and Max in the Future 

This sort of genre experiment usually fails because either a lead actor won't commit to the absurd premise, the script isn't good enough, or the director isn't ready... only this time the writing is great, the cast understands the assignment, and first-time director Michael Lukk Litwak is up to the task. I spent the runtime simultaneously enjoying this as a romantic comedy and marveling that - despite all probability - the outlandish story was working.

I expect history will view the movie through a similar split lens. This is the sort of thing that should deservedly attract a significant fan base who will return to the film again and again. At the same time, I expect it'll be a popular pick for film studies classes, as it functions as perhaps the most streamlined dissection of the romantic comedy ever made, retaining only the essential elements and swapping everything else out for the silliest genre fare imaginable. We've seen other movies toy with similar ideas, but this embraces the premise of setting a traditional romcom in a nontraditional setting in ways light-years beyond anything I've encountered.

It's kind of incredible to watch such a weird, low-budget, high-concept movie succeed this completely.


18. Love Lies Bleeding 

I'm honestly writing this without checking first: was that ending controversial? It feels like something polarizing. But it also feels inherently Lynchian, which is something the target audience for a film like this might appreciate.

I certainly did, but then I tend to be a sucker for movies with endings that veer into alternate genres while somehow managing to maintaining a thematic and poetic throughline, a needle this film threads with ease. It's the sort of gonzo resolution you know shouldn't work but feel in your gut is just completely right. It's also what elevates an already effective thriller into something more artistic.

I'm trying to avoid spoilers, obviously, though merely by focusing on the end I've already failed. So I'll turn my attention instead to the performances, which are phenomenal. This is worth seeing for the actors alone. But for those who share my love for the inherent weirdness cinema is capable of injecting into its worlds, there's even more to appreciate.


17. Dune Part II 

The first installment in this reboot was my second favorite movie of 2021 (at least when I made the list), but I remember thinking I didn't actually care all that much whether the sequel actually materialized. Mainly, I felt like Villeneuve had already given me everything I wanted from the franchise, and a second film wouldn't be an appreciably different experience from rewatching the first one. 

Having seen Part II, I think that impulse mostly holds up. While I really enjoyed returning to Arrakis, this felt like that: a return. Sure, the story continued, but so much of what these movies offer is tone, style, and setting, I kind of felt more like I was rewatching a great movie than seeing one for the first time. I'm used to that while watching TV shows I like, but it's rare from movie franchises this good.

It's less of a problem than you'd expect. Again, the experience being repeated was a good one, so a return to Arrakis is welcome. It's also important to note that finding a story less significant isn't the same as finding it bad: on the contrary, the changes, cuts, and additions made to the source material were consistently clever and thematically fulfilling - I just didn't care much, since I was mostly just gawking at the scenery.

All of that's a long-winded explanation for why I enjoyed this, think it's technically and artistically one of the year's best, but it only made it this far on my list.

All that being said, I actually find myself more excited about the prospects of a potential third installment than I was for the second. The movie ended implying what comes next might offer some variation. If not... hey, I'm happy to hang out in this setting for as many movies as they care to make (assuming the production values stay consistent). But some new backdrops and creatures would actually be exciting, which is the one area this installment doesn't excel in.


16. Transformers One 

The trailers for this really didn't impress me. Until reviews started rolling out, I more or less wrote this off as an early contender for one of the year's worst: just another toy commercial assembled by executives. 


I'm thrilled by just how wrong that prediction turned out to be.

Transformers One is touching, beautifully animated, and cleverly written; one of the best installments this franchise has produced. For good reason the term "prequel" has largely become a dirty word, but this is a masterclass in doing it right, using the format to build depth into the characters and retcon stuff in need of a makeover.

I've seen some reviews claim this is better than Bumblebee: I don't think I'd go that far (Bumblebee is really good). But this is fantastic in its own right and a welcome change of direction for the franchise.


15. Robot Dreams 

Robot Dreams is the sort of family film you can watch with your kids and trust they'll have a fun time while you're emotionally scarred for life. It's beautifully executed with the metaphor and subtext balanced so the experience ages with the viewer. 


On the surface level, it's lovingly animated, and the comedy lands. If you're familiar with New York City, you'll be amazed how realistically it's depicted (I imagine even more so if you knew it when the movie was set). But as a movie about relationships, it's so much more, sort of an updated Umbrellas of Cherbourg for kids.



14. Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes 

I suspect a large part of the reason this installment wasn't as well received as the preceding trilogy is the genre (or at least sub-genre) shifts a bit. The movies from Rupert Wyatt and Matt Reeves approached the material from a relatively serious science-fiction point-of-view, while the quasi-reboot feels closer to the pulpy, adventure end of the genre. The difference is admittedly more in flavor than substantive, but this certainly feels more fantastical (plus some aspects of resolution at least imply an element of mysticism).


All of which is a longwinded way of saying I understand why some fans were reluctant to follow this in a different direction. Personally, though, I loved it - I'm at least as big a fan of fantasy as sci-fi, and I found a movie about apes going on a grand adventure immensely entertaining. If anyone needs this turn justified, the 1968 original was going for a similar vibe (though, to be honest, I think I'd have had as much fun with this if the tone had come out of nowhere).

Aside from the delightful absurdity of the whole thing, I appreciated the character work. In particular, Raka is my new favorite character in the series to date, and I liked the complexity and absurdity built into the villain, Proximus. The weakest aspect of the film was easily the primary human, who felt somewhat bland despite some clever writing (I always like when these things keep me from expecting a twist by concealing it in another obvious twist). Even then, it's worth acknowledging that failing to deliver an interesting human character barely feels like a flaw in a movie primarily about talking apes (and, I want to stress, this one really doubles down on being about the apes, with the humans relegated to side characters).

This one surprised me a lot. Between lukewarm word-of-mouth and trailers that didn't quite work for me, I didn't expect to have this much fun with it. Hopefully we'll get a lot more in this series, no matter where they fall on the fantasy/sci-fi spectrum.


13, The Imaginary

Gorgeously bright animation contracts a kind of darkness rarely seen in kid's movies these days. Visually and conceptually it echoes Inside Out and The Snowman, and it pulls no more punches. The villain is reminiscent of Judge Doom from Who Framed Roger Rabbit, and his companion stepped right out of a horror movie.

Despite its PG rating, parents should be warned this is liable to fuel a lifetime of nightmares, the way movies like Secret of NIMH, Watership Down, and the like did for my generation. But they're likely to be inventive, fascinating nightmares.


12. Only Murders in the Building, Season 4

What sets this apart from other murder mystery shows is the way the series focuses on the victims' lives more than their deaths. Counterintuitively, this is a show about life, not death, that uses the pretense of a murder investigation as an excuse to delve into its characters, both living and dead. The show has a seemingly limitless wealth of empathy which it extends to its flawed victims, quirky heroes, wacky side characters, and even its killers.

Granted, this has yet to return to the heights it reached in its first season, but that's kind of the price you pay for a premise and characters this good. Even as it's settled into a less profound, more sustainable comedy/mystery series, it remains fantastic and never seems to run out of surprises.


11. Agatha All Along, Season 1

Easily one of the top three live-action Disney+ MCU shows, Agatha All Along delivers a level of comic book weirdness often missing from these adaptations, some fantastic performances, one of the year's most memorable songs, and not one but two episodes that feel revolutionary. That it accomplishes all this on a relatively low budget makes it all the more impressive.

I love almost everything about this series, from the delightfully weird characters to the fakeout around the setting most of us didn't see coming, despite it feeling obvious in hindsight (I'm a sucker for stories that hide surprising twists inside obvious ones).

The one quibble I have is that the tonal shift at the end of the series, while clever, corresponded with a shift in the way its leads were characterized. We lost a lot of what made Agatha, Billy, and Rio so much fun when we shifted into the last act. The banter and flourishes felt muted, which made sense in context but also made the last two episodes less enjoyable.

That's a minor complaint, though. Overall, I really liked this one and hope Marvel uses it as a roadmap for future stories. 


10. Inside Out 2

What's notable about Inside Out 2 is largely that it manages to recapture the magic of the original. This is really no small feat - the fact the first film was as good as it was felt miraculous at the time, and the premise didn't seem to lend itself to a follow-up. But this really works, in part because it doesn't make the mistake of trying to up the stakes. If anything, Riley's minor identity crisis is less significant than her confrontation with depression, but the interplay between the characters in her head with her troubling behavior gives a story about a kid having a few bad days at hockey camp more gravitas than superhero movies where the fate of worlds hangs in the balance.


9. X-Men '97: Season 1

This is one of the most surprising and ambitious seasons of television I've seen in a long time. The series was marketed as a sort of "lost season" continuing the adventures from the '90s X-Men cartoon. I think most of us expected a blend of nostalgic references and comical jokes about the era. The series overdelivered in ways that were at times jaw-dropping.

There are a handful of reasons this isn't higher, and most center on the nature of the medium. When I'm compiling these, I tend to look at three factors: how high the highpoints were, how the work affected me overall, and how it left me at the ending. I'm not sure anything this year beat out X-Men '97 on that first point: if I do another end-of-decade list, the episode, "Remember It," will certainly be in consideration. But I consider television seasons, not episodes, in my end of year lists, so moments like those only take this so far.

The best moments of this show were incredible; the worst were... actually, still pretty good. The series never failed to be entertaining. But the difference in quality was still jarring and at times left me wanting more. The larger issue is a common one: the season finale - while certainly not a low point - was a long way from the best episodes. That's not in any way a failure, but it isn't the sort of slam dunk I look for from "best of year" contenders. That post-credit tease implying they might reverse the most meaningful choice they made didn't help, either.

My other reservation is, admittedly, kind of baked into the premise. The animation and designs here are simplistic and childish. That's to be expected, as the gimmick was to continue the look and feel of the '90s series. Intellectually, I respect that, but I can't help but feel it was undercutting the show effectively recutting twenty- and thirty-year-old comics into perhaps the single best X-Men story told in any medium.

Which, to be clear, I think this was, at least at points. "Remember It" in particular was the best thirty minutes I've seen from this franchise, eclipsing any of the previous shows, movies, or even comics from a story perspective. It was incredible. So were numerous other episodes and sequences throughout. But the writing was so good, it sometimes felt like they were doing it a disservice by tethering it to an outdated art style originally chosen to keep costs down. Even with various updates and improvements, this still looked like something a few decades old.

I'm not really calling this a flaw, so much as acknowledging an area where the tug-of-war between exploring nostalgia conflicted with genuinely great writing. And I'd be lying if I said I didn't love hearing that music and those voices (or at least similar voices - I know there was some recasting) again. But while the series got a bit of a leg up thanks to standing on the shoulders of its predecessor, that also wound up being a limitation.


8. Star Trek: Lower Decks Season 5

One of the better series endings I've come across in a long time, this completed the arc of the show beautifully. Lower Decks started as a parody of Star Trek and gradually transformed into, well, just Star Trek. It dipped its toe in that water previously, with various episodes (particularly season finales) having relatively sincere tones, but this was different. As the individual characters grew and developed from wacky, childish weirdos into adult weirdos, they took their place as Federation officers. That's satisfying.

But it's also a good sign that the decision to end this here - regardless of who made it or why - is probably for the best. If Lower Decks had a sixth season, the characters would need to backpedal, which would betray the story they spent five seasons developing. Either that, or it would have to proceed without its signature tone.

This is the time to say good bye, at least for the time being. There's no reason they couldn't make a movie in the future or maybe spin off a couple of the characters into a live-action project (last year's Strange New Worlds crossover proved that could work). But I don't think a continuation of this series could maintain its tone without sacrificing stuff that shouldn't be sacrificed.


7. I Saw the TV Glow

The experience of watching Jane Schoenbrun's second feature film is best described as what a David Lynch movie would be like if it were comprehensible. That's not a swipe at Lynch - the incomprehensibility is intentional and can be a feature - but if you imagine someone managing to bottle the bizarre vibe, genre mashing, and tonal dissonance of his work and use it as a pallet for a relatively straightforward metaphor, you'll have an idea of what you're in for.

I should also note I'm not intending "straightforward" as any kind of backhanded compliment against Schoenbrun. Their movies are intelligible and approachable, not simple. The depth is largely emotional, rather than intellectually vague, resulting in a poetic and moving experience. This is a beautiful, heart-wrenching film crafted by a filmmaker whose command of tone and pacing is incredible to behold.

This is the sort of hypnotic film that leaves you in awe. I loved it.


6. My Old Ass

This would pair well with Petite Mamam, and if you don't realize that's high praise, you need to go watch Petite Mamam immediately. 

Watching "My Old Ass" you almost feel like you could strip out the 10% of the movie that's comprised of ridiculous fantasy and be left with a pitch-perfect coming-of-age dramedy. But who'd want to? The ridiculous fantasy stuff enhances the drama and comedy, and it's absolutely delightful. Also, it's some of the most narratively innovative time-travel I've seen since... well... Petite Mamam. 

Just a wonderful, joyful experience of a film.


5. Nightbitch

Look, you've got Amy Adams starring in a werewolf dramedy about motherhood that prominently features Weird Al's "Dare to be Stupid" (best known from the best scene in the 1986 animated Transformers movie): I don't know what to tell you. This movie rules even before it reveals it absolutely has something to say. It's smart, weird, funny, disturbing... it's kind of got it all. 

This isn't a criticism - just a note on personal preference - but I'd have preferred an ending a little more in line with the surreal supernatural/horror elements. I think this might have claimed the top spot on this list if it had gone a different way.


4. That Christmas

I'm apparently an outlier, but I loved this movie. I thought it was smart, moving, funny... basically everything you'd associated with a classic Christmas movie. I'm at a bit of a loss to explain why so many critics responded as they did. The reviews mostly don't outright trash it, but the consensus seems to be that it falls somewhere around "mediocre" on the spectrum. Maybe they were turned off by the movie being picked up by a streaming service? Or maybe my obsession with Christmas movies has shifted the way I respond to the genre into an entirely different dimension - I'm not at all discounting the possibility my reaction might just be "wrong" (to the limited extent that term can ever apply to an opinion about art).

Whatever the reason, I feel like I need to lodge a strong dissent in support of this film. To be clear, this isn't a case where I think critics are being a little too harsh (see "Dear Santa" above for that scenario) - with the caveat I've only seen this once, I would currently place it on the short list of truly exceptional animated Christmas movies, alongside Nightmare Before Christmas, Arthur Christmas, and 101 Dalmatians. I am genuinely shocked by how far my appraisal is from the norm.


3. Fargo, Season 5

This just barely qualifies as 2024, thanks to the last three episodes premiering last January. Before I even get to the season, I want to take a moment and reflect on how impossibly good the series has been as a whole. I actually think this might be the best live-action show I've ever encountered: the blend of dark comedy, wrenching drama, and at times profound reflection isn't the sort of thing you expect to find on the small screen and certainly not sustained over multiple seasons. The tone is pitch-perfect, the production values are on par with theatrically released films, and the casts they're able to attract for each season-long arc are phenomenal.

Season 5 is no different. I'm not sure it's quite as good as the first two, but it's up there, with the added benefits of featuring the best protagonist we've gotten to date (rarely have I watched a show and been this invested in whether the lead would live or die) and what might be the best whimsical hired criminal so far (and, it must be noted, this is a competitive category when it comes to this show).

It's fantastic and one of the best things I've seen this year. I'm stretching to find anything to criticize, though I've got a couple nitpicks. First, I think there was a missed opportunity at the end of the series when the writers seem to have forgotten the epilogue would have occurred in the midst of the COVID pandemic. It's not just that it's annoying that the reality of that time was being glossed over: there were thematic and story beats that could (and in my mind should) have been impacted. The bulk of the series was set in the months before the pandemic upended society, and I felt like that was being positioned as a sort of countdown for several characters (particularly the antagonists, many of whom wouldn't have fared well in 2020).

I also felt like some aspects of the last episode were a bit underplayed. To be clear, I'm not complaining about the story beats or choices - I am very happy with how the resolution was written - but merely that after an amazingly tense, cinematic setup, the actual climax was a bit of a letdown (just a bit, though). For those who have seen this, I also want to clarify I'm mainly talking about the first half of the episode - the dinner sequence was, in my opinion, absolutely perfect.

My next note concerns a couple episodes near the middle, and... I'm not really critiquing so much as explaining where my reaction was muted. The content here was fantastic, particularly from a moral standpoint, as the show more or less dropped the subtext and addressed issues of domestic abuse head-on, without subtlety or ambiguity.

The thing is, I really like subtext, subtlety, and ambiguity, particularly in stories like these. I can't fault the showrunners for opting to essentially reach out to people who need help - I wish more media did things like this so well. But this is a case where my assessment of the show differs with my reaction, and I base this list primarily on reaction.

On the other side of the spectrum, I really like where they took the mother-in-law from a story and character perspective but question whether they did enough to resolve the underlying issues around her business from an ethical point-of-view. They certainly called out the economic injustice at the heart of the story, but the ending almost implies some sort of higher good can emerge from that, which felt a bit irresponsible even before it became clear the country was on the verge of transitioning into a full-blown oligarchy.

Again, these are quibbles in the midst of a season and series of television that's as close to perfect as almost any I've encountered. If you haven't seen Fargo, it's incredible and well worth checking out.


2. Orion and the Dark

A moving, poetic story about story, our connections with each other, family, existential dread, and... light pollution, I guess? How the hell does it not feel out of place to drop "light pollution" as a central theme along with that other stuff?!!! You know what, forget that: how did they craft a narrative in which LIGHT POLLUTION as a theme *enhances* the impact of those other concepts, while also reminding us it's actually a serious, disturbing issue? How does a kids movie pull that off?!!!

Oh. Written by Charlie Kaufman. That explains a lot, actually.

Anyway, incredible film that evokes the best Pixar movies without retreading ground that studio has trod. This bears a superficial resemblance to Inside Out and Soul, but it's truly its own story. A story about the mythic nature of multi-generation storytelling emerging from elemental forces, that....

Look, I just love the hell out of this stuff.

The visuals are fantastic, too, featuring a storybook appearance that matches the script. Just an excellent movie I'll probably spend the next decade pissed about not being able to buy on Blu-ray.

1. Bluey, Season 3

Ask almost any parent and they'll tell you Bluey is delightful. Actually, ask a growing number of adults without kids, and they're likely to tell you the same. This series is wonderful and much more complex than you'd expect from something made with preschoolers in mind. The trick is the way the stories are layered, creating a show where a child and parent can watch together and take away two very different experiences. Episodes are crafted with multiple points of view in mind, and some of those contain an immense amount of depth.

I almost forgot to include this, at all. The seasons tend to drop in chunks, with installments ambiguously existing as specials. The third season technically began in 2021, which raises the question of whether any of it can possibly be considered in the context of any end-of-year list. Plus, my kid watched a bunch of these when I wasn't around, so I wound up seeing them out of order (actually, this show has the distinction of being the one thing on this list I'm not 100% certain I've seen every episode).

Then the election happened. The fucking election. And when the dust cleared after a long day of work, I felt... the way most of you probably felt. I started to put on a movie, but I didn't make it past the studio logo. Instead, I found myself rewatching The Sign, the half-hour almost-but-not-quite-finale to the season.

It was past the kid's bedtime, but she heard the music and we told her she could come down and watch it with us.

The Sign is about understanding that no one really understands what the future will hold and that because of this the best - perhaps the only - real approach to life is to embrace those you love, make the best choices you can, and face an uncertain future together. It's about hope in the face of tragedy and caution in the face of victory. And, crucially, it was what I needed the evening of November 6th.

For what it's worth, the third season includes a number of my favorite episodes: Bedroom, Obstacle Course, Rain, Fairytale, and Cricket are all among the best in the series... though none of these are actually from 2024. Actually, only three episodes from season 3 were released this year. But one of those was The Sign, which is really what's driving this placement.

Simply stated, The Sign was what I needed in 2024, and I doubt I'm alone in that. On top of that, this remains one of the all-time great kid's shows, and if the unusual release calendar prevents me from ranking it every year, I might as well give it the kudos it's due.


CLOSING THOUGHTS

Take all this with a grain of salt - there's so much I didn't get to this year, including several TV shows I couldn't squeeze in. What We Do in the Shadows, What If...?, and Arcane all came out this year (Arcane is a particularly big omission: the first season is a big part of what inspired me to start including TV seasons in these rankings). I'm planning on watching them all, but I just couldn't find time before the end of 2024. And speaking of notable omissions, I watched the first few episodes of Penguin but haven't had time to catch up (if anyone's curious, I find the show technically fantastic but kind of conceptually underwhelming - this really isn't what I want from Batman stuff, no matter how well it's executed).

Skeleton Crew is shaping up to be a contender on next year's list, with the caveat Disney+ shows have a tendency of starting strong before devolving in their later installments. And of course there are tons of shows and movies on the horizon I'm looking forward to (Death of a Unicorn looks incredible, and I'm really excited to see what Gunn does with Superman), along with God knows how many surprises.

As I said at the outset, this year's list feels a little light. I actually hope next year's will, as well. I've got plans for a new novel and (assuming I follow through) that'll certainly take time away from my movie watching.

I wish I could say this had been a good year, and I certainly wish I could say I had high hopes for 2025. But the truth is things are bad and shaping up to be worse. My advice is pretty obvious, but I'll say it anyway: take care of each other and of yourselves. Seek out media that the worst people alive don't want you to watch and watch it. And of course create art, if only to reaffirm the fact art can only be created by actual humans.

I'm certainly not suggesting that watching movies and creating art are the only acts of resistance we need to engage in, but in times like these make no mistake: reading and viewing art - particularly art created by marginalized communities - is a form of defiance.

The next few years are going to be hard. Make sure you give yourself space to relax when you can.