Ross Bonaime

Spielberg has given us all so much magic over the course of our lives, and The Fabelmans becomes yet another Spielberg masterpiece, but this time, by showing us how this magic came to be in his own life.

By capturing Flipside in this way, Wilcha shows the weird, unbelievable nature of life and the surprises that make it such a beautiful mess.

In Earth Mama, Savanah Leaf gives us a towering reminder of the women who gave their all for us, their determination and power, the difficulties of staying afloat when you feel like you’re drowning, and how we can’t truly know what other people are struggling with, no matter how hard we try.

Hamnet captures the beautiful aching that makes up life in all its forms, and it makes for one of the most profound and staggering works you’ll see this year.

Kotevska isn’t just telling a story of a farmer in a foreign land; she’s constructing a story that we can all relate to in our current world, in one of the finest documentaries you’ll see all year.

It is a work of big emotions and heart in the middle of the worst time of a person’s life that is also one of the best films of the year.

Silver's vision doesn't always work, sometimes feeling like a mishmash of ideas and tones that don't always go well together. But when the film focuses on this central relationship, Between the Temples finds a lovely sweet spot that makes it all sing.

Hamaguchi’s Drive My Car worked so beautifully because of the smaller, quiet moments of life, the drives from one place to the next, and the undiscovered moments that we keep hidden. Evil Does Not Exist turns these moments into an entire feature-length film, and while it might seem slight at times, the approach is wonderful in its own right—a master filmmaker taking his time and embracing the silence.

With Made in England: The Films of Powell and Pressburger, Hinton shows the legacy that films can have and how time can benefit films that don’t receive the recognition they deserve.

Like so many of Frears’ films, The Lost King works because of the compelling cast on hand.

In the end, Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour isn’t just a demonstration of this mammoth undertaking, it’s also an undeniable proclamation that Swift is one of the most impressive musicians of the 21st century.

Hit Man is also simply one of the most thoroughly enjoyable films of Linklater’s career, an absolute delight to watch unfold and play out. He keeps the twists of the noir narrative fairly straightforward, leaving us to revel and admire in Powell’s comedic chops, the romantic entanglements, and the anticipation for when this relationship might go too far.

Grand Theft Hamlet shows how incredible it is to see how a new medium of storytelling can shift what we know of a beloved work and put it into an entirely new context after centuries.

Challengers is a wild love triangle story, punctuated by three excellent performances and tremendous talent behind the camera.

The Holdovers is a wonderful revelation from an excellent director who proves he’s still able to take us by surprise.

Yates makes Pain Hustlers part-rowdy dramedy, part-half-assed takedown, and entirely an underwhelming film that attempts to make apparent and bland points.

Little Amélie or the Character of Rain is, without a doubt, one of the best and most touching animated films to come out this year, a remarkable example of what this style of storytelling can do.

There are few filmmakers that can make the leap from smaller, insular stories into large-scale epics, but with The Northman, Eggers has proved that his style and substance can remain intact, regardless of the size of the story.

This Much I Know to Be True might not dig as deep into the lives of Cave and Ellis as one might hope for a film billed as a documentary, but the performances captured here more than make up for that.

If The History of Concrete proves anything, it’s that Wilson can make a movie about anything and make it absolutely brilliant.

Brian is an absolute blast and a hysterical coming-of-age story, centered on an impressive lead performance by Ben Wang, and an absolutely perfect handling of character and tone by Ropp and Scollins. Brian deserves to be amongst the great high school coming-of-age comedies that paved the way before it.

There are great ideas throughout Fingernails and strong filmmaker instincts, but it also feels like a film that should’ve gone just a bit deeper into this world, its love, and its ideas.

Cregger shows with Weapons how perfectly he can balance horror and comedy in equal measure, always walking the line between these two in a film that is both unsettling and deeply funny. Because of this, Cregger has made what might end up becoming the best horror film of 2025.

Daniels explores the hopelessness of depression, the little miracles that truly make life worthwhile, how acts of kindness can be an extraordinary asset, and—most fitting to this film—how it’s OK to be a mess.

Little Richard: I Am Everything has to do a lot in its relatively short runtime, from exploring the origins of the musician, explaining both sides of his personality, and also diving into Richard’s influence on the future of music. Thankfully, Cortés’ documentary handles all this beautifully, and will make the viewer want to immediately learn more about Richard, his extremely fun work, and the life that impacted so many around him.

Especially compared to the 2015 adaptation, A Man Called Otto is a clunky update that often feels like it's full of cartoonish characters, with poor music choices, and cloying sentimentality. But when Forster and Magee pull away from these eccentricities, the story of Otto and Marisol is often a thing of beauty, and wonderful friendship that is lovely to watch grow.

Come See Me in the Good Light is a shattering, yet lovely documentary that’s easily one of the best of the year.

It’s so much fun to watch Johnson in this mode, especially with a cast this relentlessly fun and playful. With Glass Onion, Johnson proves himself to be a film disruptor of the highest order.