With the Academy Awards a week away (Sunday, March 10, for you sticklers), this seems like as appropriate a time as any to trot back out my picks for the Best Films of the year that was 2023.
For those keeping score at home, my latest ranking has some differences from my initial take back in early January. Why, you ask? (for the sake of moving this post along, let’s pretend you asked). Answer: I’ve revisited some pictures, caught up with some others, and have been subject to the vagaries of time. As such, I’ve reassessed, as the kids say.
While Barbenheimer was what brought people back to the multiplex in 2023, the year was a milestone in cinema even without that particular box-office and cultural phenomenon. Long-in-the-tooth filmmakers (Scorsese, Miyazaki, Mann) produced some of their best work in years, while a slew of first-time directors showed exceptional range and maturity. Movies took big, big swings. Even the ultimate misses (Beau Is Afraid and Dream Scenario come to mind) had much to offer.
Why the filmic greatness this particular year? Certainly the psychological impact of the Covid pandemic, both during and post, fueled artistic introspection and experimentation. Maybe the generally scary-as-hell state of the world (if you know, you know) got the creative juices flowing. Perhaps the surge of prestige TV spurred competition, or easier access to technology and streaming platforms spurred democratization of the art form. Maybe it was all that and more.
Whatever the reason, 2023 was a banner year in movies.
Since there is nothing I enjoy more than list-making, here are my picks for the Top 50 non-documentary motion pictures of the year. My #1 through #5 choices are stone-cold masterpieces in my book, and #6 through #29 are simply great films where the ranking is simply arbitrary. But then again, isn’t all ranking arbitary?
50. Leave the World Behind
It’s the end of the world as we know it.
49. All Dirt Roads Taste of Salt
The feature debut of director Raven Jackson is certain to confound some viewers, but those willing to surrender to this poem of a movie will be richly rewarded. The remembrances of a young woman’s upbringing in rural Mississippi, All Dirt Roads Taste of Salt is a collection of snapshots in time: lyrical, tactile, ineffably poignant.
48. M3GAN
Never get between a girl and her psychotic doll.
47. The Peasants
Based on a Nobel Prize-winning novel, the painterly animation of The Peasants lends ravishing visuals and a fable-like vibe to this mortifying tale of a young woman in Medieval Poland who is terrorized for the misfortune of being attractive. In a year with an abundance of excellent international films, this effort by filmmakers DK and Hugh Welchman (the couple’s Loving Vincent is also well worth seeking out) never received its due.
46. Sisu
A bonkers, blood-drenched cartoon of Nazi-killing mayhem. Think of it as the antidote to my #5 selection.
45. Polite Society
In a less woke past, a movie critic might have praised Nida Manzoor’s theatrical film debut as a rock ‘em, sock ‘em exemplar of girl empowerment. Alas, that phrase sounds pungently patronizing in 2024. Suffice it to say this blend of martial arts, romcom and teen angst plays like a live-action cartoon – and I mean that as a compliment. Priya Kansara stars as a Pakistani teen who dreams of being a stuntwoman, but finds herself drawn into trying to prevent her older sister (Ritu Arya) from marrying a seemingly too-good-to-be-true bachelor.
44. Saltburn
Writer-director Emerald Fennell’s follow-up to 2021’s Promising Young Woman is a strange movie to get a bead on. Is it eat-the-rich satire? A Brideshead Revisited knockoff? A Xerox of The Talented Mr. Ripley? Who cares? Despite some significant potholes, Saltburn is excessively wicked — and just plain perverse —fun. Granted, the fun level might largely depend on your tolerance for serious kink. A game cast is led by Barry Keoghan letting it all hang out, literally. Rosamund Pike and Richard E. Grant are dependably fine support.
43. The Color Purple
This latest movie incarnation of The Color Purple – the Broadway musical based on Steven Spielberg’s 1985 film adaptation of Alice Walker’s Pulitzer-winning bestseller – hearkens back to the Golden Age of movie musicals, albeit with a social consciousness that didn’t necessarily puncture the likes of Brigadoon and Carousel. Helmed by director Blitz Bazawule, the numbers are terrifically staged and the storytelling polished to a gleaming sheen. If that aesthetic sounds odd for tackling racism, rape and domestic abuse, well … it’s a musical. What can I tell yah? Amid the spectacle, Fantasia Barrino, Tara P. Henson, Danielle Brooks and Colman Domingo deliver powerhouse performances.
42. birth/rebirth
Anchored by excellent performances from Judy Reyes and Marin Ireland, this directorial feature debut from Laura Moss grounds the tropes of the Frankenstein legend in relatable themes of maternalism and grief. It also happens to be disturbing as hell. While Talk to Me was 2023’s breakout horror hit (and I do like that movie), for me, birth/rebirth and Infinity Pool (see #19) were the ones that lingered longest in my nightmares.
41. Fremont
In this droll tale of a lonely Afghan woman (winningly played by newcomer Anita Wali Zada) navigating her way through a new life in America, director Babek Jalali gives Jim Jarmusch a run for his money in the arena of deadpan comedy. Extra points go to Gregg Tarkington as a therapist obsessed with Jack London’s White Fang.
40. Ferrari
Eighty-year-old Michael Mann is back to form and firing on all cylinders, as they say (see what I did there?). Adam Driver is the Italian automobile mogul (dusting off his iffy Italian accent from House of Gucci) and Penélope Cruz his long-suffering wife. If the biopic’s scenes of domestic strife have mixed success, Mann clearly rises to the occasion in the exhilarating racing scenes. The climactic Mille Miglia is a stunner.
39. Rye Lane
Something about this British confection feels so fittingly “of the moment.” Raine Allen-Miller’s directorial debut is inventive and splashy. I can’t wait to see what she will do next. David Jonsson and Vivian Oparah meet cute in a unisex restroom, only to discover that both are recovering from breakups. Unless you’ve never seen a romantic comedy before, chances are you know exactly where things will go, but Rye Lane is about its buzzy vibe and generous wit.
38. You Hurt My Feelings
Writer-director Nicole Holofcener specializes in keenly observed dramedy. Her You Hurt My Feelings explores the pitfalls of compromised communication, even among those whose job ostensibly is about communicating. Julia Louis-Dreyfus plays a writer who overhears her spouse dissing her latest manuscript. Tobias Menzies nearly steals the picture as her husband, who is in midlife-crisis mode.
37. The Creator
Director-writer Gareth Edwards delivers a smart, sleek science-fiction yarn boasting provocative ideas, spectacular action sequences and an emotionally affecting center, mainly thanks to terrific performances from John David Washington and Madeline Yuna Voyles, one of the most remarkable child actors I’ve seen in years.
36. A Thousand and One
Writer-director A.V. Rockwell’s feature-length debut benefits mightily from Teyana Taylor’s fierce performance as a troubled mother, recently released from jail, who kidnaps her young son from foster care. A Thousand and One is gritty, unblinkingly honest and a reminder of New York City’s ambivalent life under Mayor Giuliani. Rockwell’s script also manages to subvert expectations, which is always a welcome surprise.
35. John Wick: Chapter 4
Clocking in at nearly three hours, this latest John Wick installment doesn’t aspire to much more depth than a computer game. It doesn’t matter. You would be hard-pressed to find more inventive, gloriously choreographed and over-the-top violence in an actioner.
34. BlackBerry
The rag-to-riches-to-rags saga of BlackBerry (remember those?) soars on the high-wire tension between commerce and innovation, genius and showmanship — all packaged in a gangbusters documentary style courtesy director Matt Johnson (who also has a supporting role). Glenn Howerton deserves props for one of the year’s most hilarious, and hilariously loud, performances.
33. Passages
I’m not sure why writer-director Ira Sachs’ tale of a Parisian love triangle is as captivating as it is. Maybe it is the film’s uncompromising depiction of unmitigated selfishness. Franz Rogowski is a self-absorbed and thoroughly unlikable German filmmaker who flits between his put-upon husband (Ben Winshaw) and a beautiful woman (Adèle Exarchopoulos) he meets at an after-party. In a year of remarkable closing shots, Sachs sticks the landing.
32. Memory
Jessica Chastain portrays a single mother bearing the psychological scars of a troubled past. These wounds resurfaces when her life is disrupted by Peter Sarsgaard as a former classmate with early-onset dementia. If writer-director Michel Franco occasionally sanitizes the agonizing impact of dementia, Memory largely succeeds on the sublime performances of its two leads.
31. Fallen Leaves
Sad people in the dreariest parts of Helsinki find love. It’s not the most appealing longline, sure, but trust me on this. Finnish writer-director Aki Kaurismäki’s romance thrums along on off-kilter, deadpan charm.
30. Origin
Talk about some cojones. Writer-director Ava DuVernay takes on the daunting task of dramatizing real-life author Isabel Wilkerson’s search for the global connective tissue of prejudice and bigotry. The result is a deft work of intellectual heft — and entertaining, to boot. The ensemble cast includes solid performances from Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor, Niecy Nash and Jon Bernthal.
29. The Boy and the Heron
It remains to be seen whether legendary Japanese animator Hayao Miyazaki is truly retired now. For his first film since 2013’s The Wind Rises, which ostensibly was to be his final work, the master of hand-drawn animation blends a phantasmagorical, often harrowing dreamscape with a tale of childhood trauma during World War II. The result is gorgeous and opaque, traits we have come to expect from Miyazaki. Moms and dads, don’t be lulled by the title into expecting Disneyfied cuteness here. The Japanese, and much more appropriate, title is How Do You Live?
28. Maestro
This biopic of celebrated conductor and composer Leonard Bernstein boasts a gorgeous production, a handful of knockout scenes, and Oscar-caliber performances from Bradley Cooper (who also directed and co-wrote) and Carey Mulligan. If Maestro frustratingly never really addresses what makes Bernstein worthy of a film in the first place — which is to say his musical genius takes a backseat to family drama — it nevertheless deserves props for its bold reimagining of the biopic.
27. American Fiction
Thorny social satire meets heartfelt family drama in this remarkably self-assured directorial debut from accomplished screenwriter Cord Jefferson. Jeffrey Wright again demonstrates his virtuosity, but Jefferson has assembled a first-rate cast all around, especially Sterling K. Brown, Issa Rae and Tracee Ellis Ross.
26. Godzilla Minus One
Godzilla! ‘Nuff said. Writer-director Takashi Yamazaki delivers a masterfully told monster flick that also gives Western audiences an eye-opening perspective of Japan in the aftermath of World War II.
25. Afire
A misanthropic and schlubby writer (Thomas Schubert) his best friend (Langston Uibel) and a free-spirited young woman (Paula Beer) share a cottage on the Baltic Sea while wildfires burn in the far distance. From these potent characters and curious setting, German writer-director Christian Petzold fashions a sharply drawn character study that is darkly funny and refreshingly impossible to predict.
24. R.M.N.
Masterful Romanian filmmaker Cristian Mungiu skewers nationalism and xenophobia in this lacerating black comedy about an industrial bakery that incurs the wrath of its close-minded community with the arrival of several Sri Lankan employees. Look for a knockout scene at a town hall, a maelstrom of rage that Mungiu presents in a lengthy single take.
23. How to Blow Up a Pipeline
Daniel Goldhaber’s sophomore directorial effort is essentially a heist picture, and a damned good one at that, but one propelled by urgency and righteous anger.
22. Perfect Days
Cleaning toilets never seemed so Zen-like. Wim Wenders’ slice-of-life character study is mesmerizing and buoyed by Kôji Yakusho’s transcendent performance. If a movie could serve as mantra, it is the aptly titled Perfect Days.
21. The Teachers’ Lounge
In a year of astonishing directorial debuts — have you noticed? — Ilker Çatak’s German-language The Teachers’ Lounge is one of the best. This edge-of-the-seat thriller understands how a middle school classroom can make for a pretty nifty microcosm of society. Sundry observation: Apparently being a teacher in Germany is about as thankless as it is here in the states.
20. The Killer
David Fincher’s hitman lark epitomizes the unreliable narrator. Some critics inexplicably didn’t understand this was a black comedy. Michael Fassbender is the professional assassin who isn’t as professional as he would like to think he is, and there are some of Fincher’s signature set pieces along the way. If nothing else, The Killer makes clear what I long suspected: The Smiths made great music to murder by.
19. Infinity Pool
Leave it to the spawn of David Cronenberg to transform an almost laughably far-fetched premise into a study in sadism. Writer-director Brandon Cronenberg explores identity, morality and colonialism in this nightmarish tale of a third-world country that has figured out how to clone people on the cheap. Alexander Skarsgård and Mia Goth deliver fearless (and fearlessly perverse) performances. I don’t know how else to describe Infinity Pool other than to call it for what it is: a mindfuck.
18. Mission: Impossible – Dead Reckoning Part One
While I can’t say I’m breathlessly awaiting Part Two (and a good thing, too, since it’s scheduled for release in the summer of 2025) the Mission: Impossible films are still humming along nicely when most other franchises (we’re looking at you, Marvel) are practically begging to be put out of their misery. Tom Cruise deserves much credit for remaining thoroughly invested in this spy series, but I believe the secret sauce is the team of writer-director Christopher McQuarrie and editor Eddie Hamilton. The pair know how to assemble action sequences. There are a couple of doozies in this installment, just as there were in the duo’s previous M:I efforts, Fallout and Rogue Nation.
17. The Iron Claw
I wrote here about this fictionalized rendering of the real-life Von Erich family and the tragedies that befell the pro wrestling dynasty.
16. The Taste of Things
France’s The Taste of Things immerses itself in themes of hunger (both figurative and literal), artistry and food. Director Anh Hung Tran doesn’t fetishize food (and there’s a lot of it here) so much as show great appreciation for culinary greatness. The chemistry between leads Benoît Magimel and Juliette Binoche is palpable (which is maybe not surprising since the pair used to be an off-screen item) and surely one of the year’s most affecting love stories. France gambled and submitted this to the Academy. As it turned out, The Taste of Things failed to win a nomination but another French picture wound up nominated for Best Picture, Original Screenplay and Actress. That movie is …
15. Anatomy of a Fall
More of an anatomy of a marriage — and a blistering one, at that. While I can’t say I’m as gaga over Anatomy of a Fall as many critics, its obliqueness is endlessly fascinating and features a particularly memorable canine performance.
14. Reality
The operative word here is intense. Sydney Sweeney crushes the role of real-life whistleblower Reality Winner.
13. Barbie
What else can be said about Barbie? The picture saved the moviegoing experience from the savages of a pandemic and the wasteland of streaming services. Writer-director Greta Gerwig’s blockbuster summer hit managed to do a lot of things very well, a calculated monetizing of Barbie mania while also tweaking, albeit ever so gently, how Mattel’s venerable cash cow doll has impacted the self-perception of girls. It helps that none of it – save one memorably well-delivered if too-on-the-nose monologue from America Ferrera – strays far from the fizzy vibe of a classic Hollywood musical. Margot Robbie is perfect as the titular icon, but it’s not without irony that this movie celebrating female empowerment is stolen by Ryan Gosling’s Ken, whose sole function is to be Barbie’s companion.
12. Past Lives
The past is always beautiful, always pristine — frozen in time and unencumbered by the challenges of the present. First-time writer-director Celine Song draws from her own real-life experience in this bittersweet and contemplative story. Greta Lee and Teo Yoo are superb as Korean childhood sweethearts who reconnect decades later.
11. Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret.
As someone who hadn’t read Judy Blume’s seminal coming-of-age book during his own coming of age, I was dubious that Are You There, God? It’s Me, Margaret would resonate much for me. That skepticism wasn’t because of the material. I’m well aware of the cultural significance Blume has had for young readers over the decades, particularly for girls. But I also understand how nostalgia and romanticized memory can exert a powerful hold, sometimes at the expense of reason. If this adaptation is a little too neatly packaged for its own good — it bears the definite imprint of co-producer James L. Brooks — it is also witty, funny and warm. Abby Ryder Fortson is the appealing title character (Margaret, that is) coping with a new school, a new group of friends, family tensions and a growing awareness of her body. Rachel McAdams and Kathy Bates shine in supporting roles.
10. Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse
It isn’t simply the wealth of jaw-droppingly innovative animation that distinguishes this hyper-stylized sequel to 2018’s Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse. As much as I loved that earlier flick, Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse actually tops it. The screenplay by Phil Lord, Chris Miller and David Callaham is smart and insightful, offering a Peter Parker perfect for today.
9. All of Us Strangers
Melancholia can be unbearably beautiful. Writer-director Andrew Haigh proves it in this lyrical and enigmatic tale about growing up gay in the Great Britain of the 1980s. Andrew Scott delivers a heartbreaking performance, but the less you know about All of Us Strangers going in, the better (Heck, you might be well-served not even to click on the trailer above).
8. Asteroid City
Wes Anderson likes his universes hermetically sealed, and Asteroid City is about as hermetically sealed as it gets. Its structure is a Matryoshka doll of insularity: A 1950s-era teleplay of a stage play about a small group of people stuck in a speck of a town in New Mexico. Then a space alien turns up. The all-star cast is having great fun, with Jason Schwartzman and Scarlett Johansson at their most deadpan — although Jeffrey Wright, Maya Hawke and Tom Hanks steal their respective scenes.
7. Showing Up
Marty Scorsese has DiCaprio and De Niro. Tim Burton has Johnny Depp. Director Kelly Reichardt thankfully has Michelle Williams. In this gentle, lo-fi comedy, Williams burrows deeply into the character of Lizzie, a brittle and frustrated sculptor struggling through Portland’s art scene. While Williams is customarily extraordinary, Showing Up doesn’t rest entirely on her shoulders. She gets excellent supporting help from Hong Chau, Maryann Plunkett and Judd Hirsch, among others.
6. May December
Todd Haynes’ tonal rollercoaster delves into our collective obsession with lurid tabloid fodder and true crime, and gussied up by a no-less-fascinating excursion into questions of identity. Julianne Moore and Natalie Portman are tremendous letting their freak flags fly, but perhaps the bigger revelation is Charles Melton, from TV’s Riverdale, as Moore’s tragic man-child of a husband. There is a lot to ponder here, but May December is never ponderous.
5. The Zone of Interest
The monsters next door. Next door to Auschwitz, that is. Jonathon Glazer’s extremely loose interpretation of the Martin Amis book observes the banality of evil, but it is much more than that. It also nails the evil of apathy, hardly an irrelevant theme in 2024. And that ending is a gut punch.
4. The Holdovers
Alexander Payne’s prickly dramedy of three broken people thrust together and finding connection over the Christmas holidays more than earns its sentiment. An intentional throwback to the 1970s’ heyday of American cinema, The Holdovers feels like a long-forgotten Hal Ashby film rescued from the vault. Paul Giamatti, Da’Vine Joy Randolph and newcomer Dominic Sessa are brilliant. While its New England-during-Christmas setting likely makes it a holiday standard from here on out, it might also inadvertently distract from what a cutting character study David Hemingson’s screenplay is at heart.
3. Poor Things
A mind-blowing world courtesy the inimitable filmmaker Yorgos Lanthimos. Mary Shelley meets Terry Gilliam meets raucous sex in this singular feminist parable, but there really isn’t anything derivative about Poor Things. Emma Stone is fearless beyond fearless as Bella Baxter. Mark Ruffalo, unshackled from the Marvel Universe, has a ball chewing up the scenery (and what scenery!) as the lascivious lawyer who whisks Bella around a psychedelically imagined Europe.
2. Oppenheimer
A biopic as fever dream. Christopher Nolan’s epic chronicling of J. Robert Oppenheimer, the so-called father of the atomic bomb, is big, bombastic and extremely loud. Cillian Murphy lends reptilian intensity to his portrayal of the titular character who oversaw the Manhattan Project, only to wrestle afterward with the repercussions of what he had unleashed on the world. There is a lot of movie here, including an all-star cast with nice turns by Matt Damon, Emily Blunt, Gary Oldman, Tom Conti, Alden Ehrenrich and a nearly unrecognizable Robert Downey Jr. The ending literally gave me chills both times I saw it.
1. Killers of the Flower Moon
Leonardo DiCaprio, Lily Gladstone and Robert De Niro are all mesmerizing in this harrowing and all too true story of racism, exploitation and murder in Oklahoma circa the early 1920s. Martin Scorsese’s adaptation of the David Grann book clocks in at a meaty three and a half hours; the running time inexplicably spurred its own sort of notoriety (Lawrence of Arabia, anyone?), but it never drags to me. Killers of the Flower Moon is as powerful as it is important – particularly amid today’s political climate seemingly intent on whitewashing history. Scorsese’s mastery is on full display. He even has the ballsy self-awareness to get meta in what might be my favorite coda in a year chock full of incredible movie endings.
Cutting to the Chase with Phil Bacharach 