I'd originally planned to post one of these once a day, then it became at least one a week, then came doubt that I could even do one a month cuz life happens; man plans, God laughs. In defiance of God's will I'm compromising by consolidating everything into one post (I also have been trying to revisit a few here and there). Thankfully, there's so much to cover - almost overwhelming how many good movies have come out this decade.
SINNERS
Like The Batman in 2022, talking about Sinners is kind of impossible. Everything that can be said has already been said over and over because its popularity and good will is overwhelming. If you stick your head up and try to offer anything, you're just another soundwave arch in the mountainous cacophony and your voice will probably be unintended plagiarism of echoes.
I do want to point out that it's neat how Remmick is Irish so there's-- no, it's already been said.
But I could say that it's great how Michael B. Jordan plays two ro-- lol, that was the first thing everyone pointed out.
Oh! The generational music sequence is a work of-- really? Stop.
I know: I love the fact that Coogler used squibs. So many movies—this year alone—have foolishly relied on cgi blood and it annoys the fuck out of me (The Monkey, Final Destination: Bloodlines, Toxic Avenger). I appreciate that Coogler used corporeal red goo spraying everywhere; haven't seen anyone talk about that yet. Or! The fact that Remmick and Sammie's dynamic turns the magical negro trope inside out. To Remmick, Sammie exists solely to help him reconnect with his family. And, saddled with the guilt his father put on him about the devil following him, Sammie would have caved if it weren't for his [found] family protecting and preventing him. Hell, who's to say if Sammie's magic would have even worked if he'd been turned into a vampire? Coogler's characterization of Sammie is so thorough as he doesn't let Remmick's myopia define him; a lesser movie would. And that's why so much has been said about this movie because it's simultaneously thoughtful, artful and highly entertaining.
Everything positive you've read about it (and its soundtrack) is true: a real-life crowdpleaser that more than earns its reputation.
EEPHUS
A deliciously fizzy hangout movie that has so many odd twists of lemon; funny and wholesome but also acerbic and sad. It hits even better on rewatch, like adding new condiments to a second hotdog. This is also the kind of movie that never compromises its initial set-up no matter what, barreling forward with defiant formal fortitude. Every moment of drama, comedy, catharsis and/or poignancy are deliberately unforced. Hell, the whole premise pointedly negates any conventional inclination to root for an underdog: everyone is equal. There's no moustache-twisting villain to hate because the reckoning for this beloved diamond is in the form of—checks notes— the construction of a middle school to help reduce the commute for local children. You even get the sense that the characters almost wish they were in a movie, so that this final game would be 'worth it' for them. Throw in the ticking-clock element and all the fun is undercut by an unending tension of the narrative denying their wish fulfillment but, at the same time, it reinforces its verisimilitude.
THE FABELMANS
Totally knocked on my ass by how confrontational and honest this is. Spielberg, via Judd Hirsch, grabs us and tells us he has an addiction and it's one that all artists have, like an inherent defect. It's such a wild moment because it's set up like a wholesome 'old-man-gives-sage-advice-to-a-young-protegé' scene when it's more of a harsh warning by a weathered cynic. Hell, it even sort of validates a spooky scene of prophetic delusion as his Mom says she was warned by her dead Mother that something terrible was coming. I also didn't expect to be reminded of Blow Out as Spielberg uses the tools of cinema to uncover the 'conspiracy' of his Mom's apparent infidelity. Then there's that^ moment of him in the mirror showing us just how dependent he becomes on his art just like his Uncle said he would.
Absolutely none of these and other weird, thorny elements (like the borderline Oedipal scene of Sammy filming his Mother's sensuous headlight dance, where her dress is practically translucent) could have been predicted. The experience is a kind of shock to the system that almost equips the viewer to actively crave the typically saccharine Spielberg schmaltz. He even gives a kind of explanation as to why he leans on populist romance: it's a coping response. He just...can't help himself. This kind of autobiographical criticism impressed the Hell out of me, not to mention its incredibly sly, but playful, final shot. (David Lynch also kills it as John Ford)
KAJILLIONAIRE
A very pretty and refreshingly earnest movie about arrested development, the allegory of the cave, unconditional love, and how vital nurturing is. As a tragicomic character study of a woman learning to live authentically after being raised to scam, it operates as a kind of the inverse of Red Rooms as it's incredibly warm and funny (one of the funniest frames this decade is a shot of space with the subtitle 'your brain is in your tits' floating in the stars). Evan Rachel Wood gives the best performance of her career and Richard Jenkins (always great) somehow does the same. Miranda July's usual quirk shines through and this one, more than her other work, feels like a Wes Anderson movie with a full-blooded pulse - especially the last act.
KILLERS OF THE FLOWER MOON
Makes me especially sore that this one is being relegated to a short blurb instead of its own individual post as it's too dense, ambitious, tragic and contradictory to merely sum up here. Wisely changed from the 'whodunnit' aspect of the book to an adamantly matter-of-fact look from within, Scorsese dissects the clogged aortas of America's black heart. Along the way he asks if he, too, has committed artistic malpractice by telling this story. Taking the time to include himself in a metatextual coda about authorship is such a bold act of self-examination. And since this is a movie about complicity, evil, and the silent continuum of erasure it serves as a surprising thematic knot while also denying the audience a proper ending since there wasn't one for the Osage people; "there were no mention of the murders" being the final line of the movie.
Soraya Roberts: "This is not a film about the Osage, but a film about settler America’s relation to the Osage, and, more largely, to the world. Specifically, it’s a film about a country’s colonialist, exploitative, violent, destructive, patriarchal subjugation of the world. This is a story of white America, as Scorsese has always been eager to tell. And just as Scorsese could not tell the Osage story, the Osage couldn’t quite tell this one."
RRR
Another story about the history of white supremacist imperialism but it's the diametric opposite of Killers Of The Flower Moon; where Scorsese opted for something subdued and, at times, quiet, this is pure uncut maximalist filmmaking. It's 3 hours long, highly stylized, cartoony, brutal, heart crushing, and just fucking running up and through and in every kind of eye-bugging image it can in the Dudes Rock canon. It even invites cliche lines like "just when you think it's topped itself, it does something new" because it really does that shit. It's equal parts buddy-cop action and a sprawling story about resisting against violent oppression that spans decades. I swear it takes an hour [or damn near close to it] to get to the full title card as it makes its personality known with two[!!] prologues. I'm exhausted just thinking about it and also nostalgic for this scene, that scene, etc. I stocked up on commas for this thing: all the shootouts, dance numbers, chases, wire work, and fight scenes to whet the largest appetite for action movie gluttons who are realism-intolerant. Eat up.
ONE BATTLE AFTER ANOTHER
This isn't just tactile entertainment, it's refreshing to see P.T. go outside of his comfort zone and make something so intentionally modern. Dismissive cowards, like his contemporary Quentin Tarantino and especially newbie Robert "No Cars Or Cell Phones" Eggers, resign themselves to the past. In turn, they reveal a lack of imagination and initiative. P.T. reworked Vineland specifically to liberate himself from the Oldhead Unc stereotype in favor of sentimental optimism about Gen Z, while his eccentricities flow undiluted. This is just as big-hearted and perverse as anything else he's made: no fear, like Tom fucking Cruise. The last act car chase (and its fallout) is some of the best filmmaking he's done in his career; in another universe we got his Mission: Impossible movie and it made $1,073,872,627 dollars. P.T.'s knack for sparking idiosyncratic characters and matching them to pitch-perfect actors remains combustible, especially in the case of Teyana Taylor as Perfidia Beverly Hills. Even with limited screentime she's one of the most striking, potent, challenging, and layered characters he's ever written. She is the endocrine system of the film; every decision anyone in the ensemble makes comes back to her. Her absence leads to the best line in the movie, where Bob tells Sensei how he doesn't know how to do Willa's hair. Just incredible stuff all-around because, while Leo is firing off in every direction, Benecio Del Toro does some of his most understated acting here. Sensei is the kind of role that only someone as skilled and seasoned as Del Toro could pull off because it might seem like he's underplaying it but he's just expertly riding the line so that he doesn't overplay it.
Like Christopher McQuarrie, Ryan Coogler, Jordan Peele, and especially Chris Nolan, P.T. Anderson is striving to make blockbusters great again. And this is what I mean when I say surplus cuz I can barely fucking keep up; Ridley Scott isn't seeing enough movies if he's bitching that "everything is shit." Even if I agreed with him I'd have to say that he's actively contributing to the problem, thus he's a hypocrite. He really thinks Napoleon or House Of Gucci are superior to any other modern movies? Or is he just resigned to make shit? Typical old man lose-lose. Do yourself a favor and look up what Paul Thomas Anderson said about movies in 2025 and look into his contributions to Napoleon...
I can't even finish this surplus post because there's too much to cover, there'd have to be a Part 2 or 3, so I'm nipping it in the bud now. So many movies from this decade have made the list and so many more could very likely make the list on rewatch. There are more bad movies being made but there aren't less good movies out there because of it. There are hundreds of movies per year that I miss and end up in my queue. Thus there are nearly 500+ movies I haven't seen from 2020-2025, so could I even make a blanket statement like "movies suck now" without telling on myself? If I don't engage with the material then I can't speak on its quality, that would be arrogant, near-sighted, and presumptuous of me. Plus, considering there's so much I haven't seen, that's yet to come, that means there's hundreds more. I'll agree that the American film industry is the worst it's ever been but cinema as a medium is very healthy (and young), that should be reassuring so long as one isn't dismissive or incurious. When anyone proclaims "movies suck now" I just assume they don't like movies.
THE SURPLUS (NO ORDER)
Soft & Quiet
On Becoming A Guinea Fowl
Titane
Better Man
The Vast Of Night
Rebel Ridge
Reflection In A Dead Diamond
The Mastermind
Civil War
Sorry, Baby
A Quiet Place: Day One
Godzilla: Minus One
Catch The Fair One
Kinds Of Kindness
The Hunt
Fallen Leaves
Train Dreams
Hard Truths
Bacurau
The Killer
Tár
May Decembe
Malignant
Decision To Leave
The Banshees Of Inisherin
The Holdovers
Marty Supreme
Challengers
Knock At The Cabin
Nickel Boys
Mad God
The Kid Detective
Bones And All
Everything Everywhere All At Once
Presence
How To Blow Up A Pipeline
Timmy Failure: Mistakes Were Made
Red Rocket
Flow
i'm thinking of ending things
Shin Ultraman
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