Unless you’ve been living under a rock, you know this year delivered banger after banger in terms of movies. I mean, from genre-bending vampire flicks to modern American epics? We’ve truly been blessed. These stories frightened us, made us laugh, brought us to tears. They gave us silly new words for our vocabulary—hello, “a few small beers”—and weirdly specific cravings, like a particular horror movie’s hotdog special or just… really wanting Campbell’s chicken noodle soup.
We couldn’t list every single film we loved (looking at you, The Plague, My Father’s Shadow, The President’s Cake, The Phoenician Scheme… the list goes on). But here are 25 that, to us, absolutely nailed the wild, wonderful cinematic ride that was 2025.
Sinners
There are films you watch, and then there are films you experience. Sinners, written and directed by Ryan Coogler, is one of those films. The genre bender took audiences by surprise with a story steeped in cultural folklore, brought to life with rich historical detail. Michael B. Jordan stars as twins, Smoke and Stack, returning to their Mississippi Delta roots to open their own juke joint. During the course of the day, they gather all the necessary people and supplies for opening night. Each character you meet has special significance, not just to the story but also to the film’s underlying themes — themes like religion and morality, race and the Jim Crow South, the sanctity of Black spaces, and the power of music from the soul. There are many great performances, but newcomer Miles Caton shines in his feature debut as Sammie. There are so many things to love about Sinners, but the score by Ludwig Göransson is my favorite. The music of this film is so profound that it’s almost like another character within the story. Sinners is a triumph for Ryan Coogler and for the culture. The original story, production design, costumes, music, and cast all display an excellence that cannot be ignored. — Joy
One Battle After Another
A brilliant modern American epic bolstered by its incredible direction, incisively funny but sensitive writing, and a dynamite ensemble cast, Paul Thomas Anderson’s action-thriller One Battle After Another is a masterclass in populist filmmaking that manages to be both explosive and intimate while having so much to say about the world we live in today. While its themes and aspects of the content may rub some audiences the wrong way, this is a film that is too good to not wholeheartedly recommend as one of the best of 2025.
Finally bringing his talents to contemporary storytelling for the first time in nearly two decades, PTA proves true the old adage that good things take time. One Battle After Another masterfully tackles the political divide in modern America and within its citizens on both sides of the line while telling a compelling story that also examines parenthood and the cyclical battles children inherit from their mothers and fathers. The filmmaking is amazing as well, with Anderson displaying his muscular control of the craft in both the hypnotic, propulsive action sequences and the quieter moments characters share with one another.
This is a film that is ultimately easier to recommend than almost any other I have seen this year. It is an incredible feat of populist cinema, with a great story, electric filmmaking, and a peerless ensemble cast, making for one of the year’s best theatrical experiences. — Cinescape
Read our full review: Epic ‘One Battle After Another’ Ends with Raw Hems
Twinless
Someone on social media recently mentioned how a big part of going to the movies was not knowing what you were going to see. With the advent of online leaks and dissected teasers, those days seem to be long gone. The problem that this film had with a particular scene being exposed before it was properly released could have easily swayed an audience to avoid it, but you would be doing yourself a huge disservice if you do not seek out this exceptional film, and the less you know going in, the better.
Dylan O’Brien should absolutely be mentioned in the same breath as all the other Best Actor contenders this year. It would be a shame if his performance as twin brothers gets overlooked.
Additionally, co-star/writer/director James Sweeney is simultaneously infuriating and pitiful in his role. His dialogue and visual choices are mind-boggling, and there are several moments when I gasped out loud. I truly hope this film becomes a modern-day classic! — Theresa
Urchin
An astounding directorial debut from Harris Dickinson, Urchin is a soul-splitting character study of addiction and the cycles of self-destruction and self-reinvention that come along with it. The naturalistic style of Dickinson’s direction and the screenplay are bolstered by Frank Dillane’s mesmerizing performance, delivering some of the best screen acting you’ll see in 2025. While its harrowing subject matter may make it a difficult watch for some audiences, storytelling as bold and honest as what is on display in Urchin couldn’t be easier to recommend as one of the year’s best pieces of cinema. — Cinescape
No Other Choice
As someone who has been unemployed for four years, the synopsis of a laid-off worker going rogue to secure his family’s future had me simply too seated. No Other Choice follows Yoo Man-su (Lee Byung-hun), a paper industry worker laid off after 25 years. Like most of the freshly laid-off, Man-su is sure he’ll land something new within three months. Cut to a year later: he’s still unemployed, and now his wife, Miri (Son Ye-jin)—who has already cut every frill from their lifestyle—is looking to sell their home, which also happens to be Man-su’s childhood home. With fewer jobs than there are unemployed people, Man-su devises a plan to eliminate the competition. Permanently.
Park Chan-wook strikes a chord with dark comedy about a current issue most can relate to. As Man-su comes in contact with each competitor in the paper industry, he realizes that they’re all in the same boat. All of them are barely hanging on. All of them equally lost trying to figure out what to do next without paper—the company and the currency. In addition to its thematic relevance, the film also boasts some of the most inspiring camera work. Overlays, match cuts, dissolves—oh my! It’s a smorgasbord of technical delights. At the end of the film, you’re left thoroughly entertained, and then slowly a reality begins to settle, and you begin to wonder: How bad will things get before other people feel as though they, too, have no other choice? — Kit
Sorry, Baby
A theme of 2025 may be finding the light in the dark. The further we slip into political dissonance and social unrest, many want to find was of surviving. Is surviving possible? If so, what comes next? Is it possible to be ourselves again? Sorry, Baby poses, is it possible to survive great tragedy?
Eva Victor’s directorial debut, to those unfamiliar with their internet video content, shows someone with emerging talent and great touch. Agnes (played by Victor) must learn to rebound after being the victim of sexual assault. The journey is arduous. What makes Sorry, Baby stand above many films of 2025 is that it understands recovery is never a straight line. Agnes’ comedic tone and the wonderful relationship she has with best friend Lydie (played wonderfully by Naomi Ackie) acts as a much-needed balm though the volcanic hurt that’s always just below the surface. Sorry, Baby is an excellent start to what should be an interesting and thoughtful career. — Marc
Read our full review: Eva Victor’s ‘Sorry, Baby’ Is Fresh, Gentle and Insightful
It Was Just An Accident
A riveting and darkly comic dramatic-thriller, Jafar Panahi’s Palme d’Or-winning It Was Just An Accident grips you with its examination of both the morality of justice and the righteousness of revenge as well as the effects it has on those who enact it.
Panahi’s writing and direction here are fantastic, displaying his eye and ear for the humanity in his characters and storytelling through patient, long scenes that further draw the audience into the deepening quagmire unfolding. The movie is also frequently darkly hilarious, as the protagonist unwittingly involves more people in his revenge plot, complicating his original moral dilemma. The cast is excellent as well, one of the best ensembles of the year, led by the wonderful naturalistic Vahid Mobasseri.
It Was Just An Accident is a marvel, and the universality of the storytelling and the excellence of its execution make this one of the best films of the year. It further proves the current renaissance of international and Middle Eastern cinema shows no signs of slowing down. — Cinescape
Bugonia
Yorgos Lanthimos and Emma Stone share a unique director-actor relationship. Their 2024 effort Kinds of Kindness was kindly dismissed by most, but their latest film Bugonia gets the pair back on track. The fourth film, as his leading lady, sees Stone finding new ways to bring his richly complex and strange characters to life. Michelle Fuller, a shrewd CEO who is Girl Boss personified, is kidnapped by Teddy (Jesse Plemons), a conspiracy theory obsessive who is fully convinced that Fuller was sent from an alien planet to conquer the world. While the premise is science fiction, Bugonia is mostly a satirical look at how corporations (and, by extension, political groups) placate the masses. Where “let’s have a dialogue” is used to be heard and not to hear the other person. The black comedy of Bugonia is matched by its ability to ratchet up the tension at a moment’s notice. Even if Stone doesn’t receive awards’ attention for her biting performance, she is still the baldhead scalawag of the year. — Marc
Marty Supreme
All year I was kind of just waiting for 2025 to show me an original movie to rank with the greats, and finally in at Christmas – just under the wire – comes Marty Supreme. Josh Safdie’s solo film about selfish, compulsive ambition is the best film of 2025 because it was the one that pinned me back in my seat the most with its seamless combination of tone, visuals, music, and performances. No matter what anyone thinks about the movie’s quality, I think they’d have to at least admit that this film is alive in a way few films are these days. I have described it as After Hours (my favorite Scorsese film) if you weren’t supposed to sympathize with the main character too much as he embarks on a journey. The relentless, one-thing-after-another quality of the film (similar to the Safdies’ terrific Uncut Gems) is exciting and infectious. Timothée Chalamet turns in his best work yet as Marty, who would rather be the table tennis champion of the world than concern himself with the feelings of any people he encounters on a daily basis. Gwyneth Paltrow is wonderful in a supporting performance that makes one miss seeing her in the movies, and Odessa A’Zion pops off the screen in an explosive role that could be star-making for her. — Scott
Hamnet
Since its premier at the Telluride Film Festival, the buzz surrounding this film had me anxious for its release. Adapted from Maggie O’Farrell’s novel and directed by Chloé Zhao, Hamnet is a moving exploration of grief and inspiration rooted in Shakespeare’s family life. The film follows the famous playwright (Paul Mescal) and his wife, Agnes (Jessie Buckley), chronicling their love, the birth of their children, and the devastating loss of their son, Hamnet. Though it does pull some details from Shakespeare’s life, this story centers most on Agnes’ perspective, with Buckley delivering a year’s best, raw and deeply vulnerable performance that anchors the film. Young Jacobi Jupe as the film’s titular character is fresh and pure, portraying Hamnet with warmth and innocence. Zhao’s direction shows a deep level of empathetic understanding of all the characters and their experiences. Though I would’ve loved more insight into Will’s creative process following the death of his son, I was not disappointed when the film ended. The story culminates in Agnes realizing that Will honored their son through the play Hamlet, allowing his grief to be transformed into art. Hamnet is a beautifully sad, yet cathartic, story of the inspiration that can come from love and loss, and of the power they can have to create something enduring. — Joy
Read our full review: Grief and Inspiration Take Center Stage in ‘Hamnet’
Eddington
Let’s face it – you never want to go back to 2020 ever again. And for good reason. Rarely can you ever point to an exact year that shifted the course of human history, but the coronavirus did a whooper on us. Most of us have memory-holed the year, conveniently forgetting just how scared we all were. Some things are too painful to revisit. Speaking of pain, here comes Ari Aster, a master in prodding and provoking his audience with intense themes and jarring imagery. Eddington is a biting look back at a hectic episode in American political and societal culture. The terror and confusion of the moment is channeled through a slew of eccentric characters, including Joe Cross (played by Joaquin Phoenix) who is equal parts bumbling and emasculated sheriff of a New Mexico town on the verge of explosion. Eddington, that fictional town, is a microcosm of America at the time: death being at the forefront of everyone’s collective mind, civil unrest against authority, and the incubation of internet brain rot. Though these things sound very drab, Eddington is darkly funny; its sly humor escalating as the film sinks further into chaos. Maybe 2020 is still too soon to relive. Eddington revisited in another five years or so may be used as a clue on just how we collectively blew it. — Marc
Read our full review: Satire Turns Bizarre in A24’s Latest Ari Aster Film ‘Eddington’
Train Dreams
I have carried this achingly beautiful movie with me since I watched it during Sundance in January. Clint Bentley’s historical drama features stunning shots of the woods, culminating in a soaring ending, alongside a topical subplot about an immigrant workforce. A fantastic Joel Edgerton performance anchors the somber, serene, low-key, arty epic Train Dreams, a drama set in the early 20th-century Pacific Northwest about a railroad logger. Bentley (Jockey) directs a genuinely entrancing, gorgeous movie, and the use of lighting—from the campfire glow on Edgerton’s face to sunlight filtering through trees as he saws a log or blocks a beam—remains etched in my mind. The deliberate pacing, with much wood-chopping, never lost my attention, capturing the quiet intensity of Edgerton’s character, whom one man aptly describes: “The world needs a hermit in the woods as much as a preacher in the pulpit.” Bryce Dessner’s soothing, melancholy score perfectly complements the film’s tone. Overall, Train Dreams is a masterfully crafted, meditative experience that combines breathtaking cinematography, quietly powerful performances, and a deeply felt reflection on solitude, labor, loss, and human connection. — Kenny
Sentimental Value
Nora is angry. Angry at her preoccupied and distant father, angry at her own crippling loneliness. On top of it all, she’s also hopelessly depressed, and you know what… she’s angry about that too. As played by the dynamic Renate Reinsve, Nora puts on a brave face and tough exterior for those in her orbit. But we see the cracks early as Nora, an accomplished actress, prepares to walk on stage, but can’t do so without serious coaxing. The story of Nora, her immediate family, and the generations of sadness that preceded them is the subject of Sentimental Value, a stunningly honest and exceptionally well-crafted novel of a film by Joachim Trier. Reuniting with Reinsve after their 2021 triumph, The Worst Person in the World, their follow-up is larger in scope as it brings in more central characters and gives them each their own complexity and due. Great performances are all over this thing – Inga Ibsdotter Lilleas, Stellan Skarsgård, Elle Fanning – and each one brings their character to life in a vibrant and memorable way. Trier’s framing of the family house in Oslo as an anchor of sorts feels especially inspired. A treasure. — Scott
The Secret Agent
The most jarring moment in Kleber Mendonça Filho’s The Secret Agent happens at roughly the forty-three-minute mark. After basking in the pristine recreation, though recreation doesn’t even start covering the film’s majestic production design, of 1970s Brazil, there’s a smash cut to labeled audio cassettes and then to an iPhone. We’re in the modern day, as University students are archiving testimonials from the film’s protagonist, Amando (Wagner Moura, in one of this year’s best performances), one of a group of political refugees seeking new identities after being deemed “enemies of the state” by the Brazilian government. It’s a film on how time reveals itself, and how time, and therefore, history dictates the stories being told, it’s winners and losers, heroes and villains.
Politics aside, The Secret Agent feels like a love letter to both Recife and a love letter to Mendonça’s own cinephilia. The Secret Agent’s resurrection of the Brazilian city’s urban center is a feat in its own right, but its weight is compounded by the fact that the filmmaker had just chronicled the downtown area’s decay in his previous film, the documentary Pictures of Ghosts. Both films are companion pieces, and the now ruins of broken-down Movie Palaces and downtown shopping centers have risen from their tombs.
Split-diopter shots, wipe transitions, vigorous dolly-ins, zoom-ins, and cross-cutting galore all serve to ground the film in its time and place. The Secret Agent might be a crime epic, but it’s one filled with vibrance and life. Its grim plotting fits well with the Carnivale flair. And honestly, who knew you could put so many Brazilian hotties in a single frame? — Patrick
Friendship
There was a lot of reflection of masculinity in 2025 from a cultural standpoint, a fallout with the previous year’s election. Men are going through it, and therapy could do wonders. Friendship is one of the best movies of the year, about social awkwardness and the discomfort of forced relationships. Tim Robinson successfully masters arthouse cringe comedy after finding his voice on streaming, with his hysterical performance that is both chaotic and layered. The film’s humor is uncomfortably hilarious, blending uproarious laughs with genuine emotional insight about how relationships are hard and breaking up is even harder. Paul Rudd offers a charismatic counterbalance, making the story of obsession and connection both funny and surprisingly heartfelt. Filled with sharp writing, unpredictable twists, and quotable jokes, Friendship is a bold and unforgettable dark comedy whose ending lingered with me ever since. Why award comedy at the Golden Globes if you don’t nominate movies like this one? This movie will age well beyond award season. — Kenny
Read our full review: ‘Friendship’ — Watch Male-Bonding Fail With Hilarious Results
If I Had Legs I’d Kick You
Rare is the movie that both excites and exasperates. Mary Bronstein’s If I Had Legs I’d Kick You puts a visceral spin on the often treaded conversation regarding the complicated nature of motherhood. Rose Byrne plays Linda, a therapist who, while good with her patients, finds herself adrift in the chaos of her everyday life, dealing with a child suffering from an illness that stems from a potential eating disorder. At her wits’ end and unable to help her sickly daughter, Linda resorts to drinking away her sorrows, disassociating, and confessing the darkest secrets in the corners of her mind to her therapist and colleague (Conan O’Brien). Under Bronstein’s keen eye (and a hell of a lot of close-ups), Byrne delivers one of her best career roles to date, portraying a woman wrestling with the possibility that she wasn’t born to be a mother, yet trying to endure the harsh realities of her circumstances. You can’t help but both root for her and jeer at her – when you should honestly be asking yourself, what exactly would you do if faced with such circumstances? — Destiny
Zootopia 2
Zootopia 2 takes Disney sequels to new heights by being a direct follow-up to the events of the first film. Whereas most sequels tend to have their stories take place years after the predecessor, this film takes place a few months later. As a result, the main characters, Nick Wilde and Judy Hopps, are just starting to work together and understand their relationship as partners and friends. The sharp writing by Jared Bush and Phil Johnston allows for these characters to develop their complicated feelings for each other over the course of the story. New additions like Gary the Snake and Nibbles Maplestick help expand and enrich the beloved world of Zootopia. The social commentary on topics like privilege and gentrification not only makes Zootopia 2 another important entry in the franchise, but one that will be discussed for years to come. — Kyle
Eephus
A gentle and quietly elegiac baseball film that’s about almost everything other than runs and bases, Carson Lund’s Eephus feels like the type of film they don’t make anymore in 2025, though I’m not sure they ever did. Carson Lund’s direction creates a singularly original tone for a film about baseball that sets Eephus apart from most of this genre. Favoring the quiet moments and interactions of the players and spectators as opposed to the action on the field, the film takes on a reflective quality that often feels hilariously mundane and profound at the same time. The writing revels in this naturalism, delivering more laughs than expected, the cinematography is fantastically understated, and the film is edited with zen-like patience that allows viewers to savor every scene.
Ultimately, those who can sit and relax into storytelling like this will find one of the best movies of 2025, and one that effortlessly encapsulates the type of moments in life where the sun sets on an experience for the last time. — Cinescape
Misericordia
In Misericordia, all spectrums of queer desire are drawn with our demon twink with the oh-je-ne-sais-quoi attitude protagonist Jérémie (Félix Kysyl, carrying the film without breaking a sweat) at the epicenter. Jérémie’s the prodigal son, returning to his home for his former boss’s funeral, and the remaining characters either fall within the spectrum of “being eyed by Jérémie’s lustful gaze” or “making unwanted advances to Jérémie.” The tooth and nail of it all can be simply surmised to “Be Gay, Do Crimes, Commit Murder, Bury Bodies Underneath the Foliage.”
The film’s cold, numbing depiction of repression often dances beat-for-beat with its most acidic dry wit. It’s this dance that really propels the film in its second half to what feels like the film’s piece-de-residence: L’abbé Phillipe Griseul, played by Jacques Develay, in this year’s most audacious performance, as Jérémie’s foil turned accomplice. For a character that was previously treated as a corky side character, the intrusive priest popping up when you least expect or want him, the film gradually puts its emotional weight and moral ambiguity on Develay’s shoulders. Another depiction of repressed homosexuality, a priest abiding a criminal not due to morals, but due to love. For a film that takes the piss out of its characters without a second’s notice, it’s profound how Guiraudie shapes this confession with the most open-hearted sincerity and compassion. It’s a fatalistic monologue, crumbling with repression and hidden desires. — Patrick
Weapons
There are films you should know about before going to see them, just in case there might be some triggers for you. Then there are the films you just have to go into without any knowledge, not because of plot twists or an inability to describe the plot, but just because movies are more fun that way.
Weapons is a delightful mixture of horror and comedy and the macabre told in the old standby, non-linear chapter style. As we witness events from each character’s perspective and playfully repeat scenes we’ve already seen, we get pulled into the web of this bizarre mystery in ways we could never have imagined.
Yes, there is gore and a jump scare or two, but the story structure and the ensemble performances—especially from soon-to-be Oscar winner, Amy Madigan, as manifested by me—catapult it way above other recent elevated horror. — Theresa
Read our full review: ‘Weapons’ Has Every Right To Be Freaky
28 Years Later
Danny Boyle’s long-awaited sequel in the cinematic zombie franchise did not disappoint. Without compromising the blood, gore and guts, Boyle brought a more profound humanity to the lives of the undead and the post-apocalyptic inhabitants—this time around, it’s enduring love in the time of evolution. The infected have learned how to cohabitate in packs and (apparently) how to procreate, but this lesson of self-preservation and independence is told through the lens of a coming-of-age story, which gives the audience something to latch on to and care about in a different way than the series’ predecessors — who were already fully formed and mostly jaded adults. Relative newcomer, Alfie Williams takes on the mantle of Spike, a boy on the precipice of manhood, who takes on a lot of responsibility when he realizes his dad (Aaron Taylor-Johnson) ain’t shit – at least when it comes to taking care of his ailing mother (Jodie Comer). Played with humor and tenderness, Williams delivers a strong performance as a character grappling with life, death, and self-assertion. Ralph Fiennes gets to play an enjoyably quirky role in perhaps one of the most understated performances of the year. At the same time, Sinners‘ star Jack O’Connell envelops a real freakazoid that both repels and delights. — Destiny
Cloud
A film that finally acknowledges that resellers are a blight on society and are just as useless as the corporations we should all hate. But I digress, comrades.
Cloud is a sharp critique of flip culture, how capitalism emasculates, and how the worry over money consumes too many of us. The story follows Ratel (Masaki Suda), a reseller flipping anything he can, whether it’s counterfeit or rare goods. Because of this, a growing group of upset customers vow to get revenge for getting ripped off. Without spoiling the fine details, the third act finds the characters of Cloud channeling that anger into violently garish ways. One character says, “Let’s have a blast,” and it is one of the darkest and devastatingly funny lines of the year.
Though the gig economy and flip culture help keep most of our heads above water in a volatile economy, they distance us further from our humanity as we do (mostly) anything for a quick buck. Cloud is effective in how systems of oppression breed new systems of oppression and rage. The more that we give in to always capitalizing dollars, the more we put ourselves on a path to our ultimate demise. — Marc
Little Amélie or the Character of Rain
Zut alors! Little Amélie, or the Character of Rain, is a gorgeously told slice-of-life animated film that explores the traumas within the ebbs and flows of life through the eyes of the most vulnerable among us. The Japanese-French animated film, co-directed by Maïlys Vallade and Liane-Cho Han, follows a young Belgian girl named Amélie who grows up in Japan after her family moves there for a brief period. Amélie begins to experience what it means to form unforgettable bonds with family and strangers who provide comfort, and to feel deep emotions that you simply can’t shake. It’s bold to put topics of anger, repression, societal class inequalities and depression in what, on the surface, looks like an amiable children’s cartoon. It’s even bolder to put your main character, a mere girl of three years old, through such large emotional stakes. However, Vallade and Han pull off these themes and more through the eyes of a young girl experiencing the world for the first time. — Destiny
Kiss of the Spider Woman
There was more than one movie this year that was adapted from an acclaimed novel to a Tony Award-winning Broadway musical to a dazzling film, yet it didn’t receive nearly enough attention. Bill Condon’s Kiss of the Spider Woman is a vibrant, emotionally rich musical that uses imaginative storytelling to contrast grim reality with the power of fantasy. In 1983 Argentina, political prisoner Valentin (Diego Luna) gets a new cellmate, Molina (Tonatiuh) – a flamboyant window dresser who is being used by the warden to get information from Valentin about his political group. Attempting to get Valentin to open up, Molina retells the story of his favorite movie starring Ingrid Luna (Jennifer Lopez). His excitement transforms their cell into a dreamy technicolor world full of song and dance. This provides them with an escape, helping them to overcome their differences and develop a deep, emotional bond. Incredible set design, brilliant and challenging one-take dance sequences, and career-defining performances set this film apart from other musicals in recent years. Kiss of the Spider Woman is a film that balances sorrow and spectacle, highlighting the importance of stories as solace, even during the darkest of times. — Joy
Read our full review: Escape through Technicolor Magic in ‘Kiss of the Spider Woman’
I Am Frankelda
“Write me! Let’s live one more time!” Those are the first lines we hear at the opening of Mexico’s first stop-motion feature, I Am Frankelda (Soy Frankelda). This macabre fantasy follows Fransica Imelda, a writer struggling to find a publisher for her spooky stories. And while her stories may mean little in her world, she’ll soon find out how the very fiction she pens is the lifeline of another realm thinly veiled beneath her own—the nightmare-fueled Realm of Spooks.
When that world’s Royal Nightmarer loses his touch, Prince Herneval seeks Francisca and her words to save his kingdom. The story can feel a little overwhelming and, at times, circular, but those are minor specks in the grandeur of this wonderful project. Produced by Guillermo del Toro, it boasts craft magic that rivals Henry Selick’s work, with worldbuilding and creature design of stunning originality. It also includes two major bangers, including my personal favorite, “El Príncipe de los Sustos” (“The Prince of Spooks”).
I Am Frankelda is a film that champions the creator’s spirit and left me with a powerful reminder: just because you can’t see your audience, doesn’t mean there isn’t worth in your work. Francisca had been rejected by one group, not knowing that her stories were the lifeline of an entire community. — Kit
A huge thank you to our curators for this list: Kit Stone, Marc Rob, Cinescape, Scott Cole, Joy B., Destiny Jackson, Theresa Hawkins, Kyle Arking, Kenny Miles, and Patrick Gratton.
If you’d like to join our film community for year-round fun, filled with movie & TV deep dives, game nights, and live discussions on Twitter Spaces, follow us at @huewatchedit.
Bi Gan on ‘Resurrection’, the Movie Monster and the Art of the Rewatch
