10. Weapons (Zach Cregger)

Arguably the most impressive feat at the box office this year was an original horror film grossing nearly $270 million on a $38 million budget. And unlike some other recent hits in the horror genre, Weapons actually feels deserving of its success for the most part. While I do think the film has grown a bit overhyped, it’s a fun and unpredictable ride that never fails to hold your attention.

The story begins with a killer hook – one night, seventeen kids from the same third-grade classroom inexplicably leave their homes at 2:17 AM and disappear into the night. No one has any clue where they are or what could have motivated their actions, so the community’s scrutiny falls on the only two people who appear to be connected: the teacher of the class (an excellent Julia Garner) and the lone boy from the class who didn’t disappear (Cary Christopher).

As it turns out, one of these two individuals actually does know what’s going on and holds the necessary pieces to put the puzzle together, but Cregger withholds that information until very late in the film. The script uses a stop-and-start structure that jumps between various characters’ perspectives, at times replaying previous scenes from a new point-of-view. It’s a choice that’s stylistically engaging, but frustrating at times in the way it undercuts suspense.

The two-hour runtime also feels a bit excessive, making the audience wait too long for answers to the point that almost any reveal would have difficulty living up to the promise of the initial mystery. But Weapons still leaves its mark thanks to haunting imagery, a scene-stealing performance from Amy Madigan, and a bloody riot of a climactic set piece that ends the film on a high note.

9. Good Boy (Ben Leonberg)

This micro-budget horror film told from the perspective of a dog became an indie sensation, grossing almost $9 million at the box office after costing only $70,000 to produce. I was skeptical of the idea initially, but this movie’s success is well-deserved thanks to its visual inventiveness and a surprising amount of emotional depth.

The film focuses on Indy (played by the director’s real dog), who accompanies his owner Todd (Shane Jensen) to a rural home in the woods owned by Todd’s now-deceased grandfather. Todd is suffering from some sort of chronic lung disease, which seemingly killed his grandfather as well, and relocates to the house to isolate himself. But almost immediately, Indy can sense a malevolent presence in the house shadowing Todd and will do whatever it takes to save his beloved owner.

Good Boy isn’t a particularly frightening movie, with most of its scares too generic or tame to leave a visceral impact. It also feels a bit repetitive, with the concept being stretched thin even across a brief 70-minute runtime. However, the film ultimately succeeds thanks to a stunningly natural and charismatic performance from Indy the dog, whose wide eyes and subtle gestures express more emotions than most human actors ever could.

The camerawork also deserves a lot of credit, filming everything from a low angle and rarely showing the human characters’ faces to keep you immersed in Indy’s perspective. Though some might call this a cheap gimmick, it never feels like one due to the sincerity and commitment of Leonberg’s vision. It all builds up to a cosmically unsettling and deeply moving conclusion that features the single most devastating line of dialogue in any film this year.

8. Sorry, Baby (Eva Victor)

Eva Victor’s first film is one of the more impressive debuts in recent memory, showcasing an artist who has a specific feeling they want to translate on-screen and knows exactly how to achieve it. Expertly toeing the line between offbeat comedy and poignant drama, Victor takes on triple duty as the writer/director/star of this movie and proves they’re more than up to the task. The result is a quiet and subtle film that sneaks up on you, alternately hopeful and devastating.

Sorry, Baby is an intimate character study that focuses on Agnes (Victor), an English professor who leads a mostly solitary life in an isolated part of New England. She’s struggling to move on after experiencing a traumatic event that nobody can help her with, and most people would rather not talk about at all. The only exception is her friend Lydie (a terrific Naomie Ackie), who gives Agnes unconditional support but is busy in her own life as she prepares to get married and have a child.

Victor’s excellent script takes a non-linear approach to the story, dividing the film into short vignettes that combine together like puzzle pieces to form the full picture of Agnes’s emotional journey. This technique also beautifully underscores the main theme of the film, how trauma can distort time and create aftershocks that will crash over you in waves when you least expect it.

But instead of focusing on obvious plot beats, Victor wrings an extraordinary amount of emotion from small moments, like when Agnes picks up a stray cat or has a heartfelt conversation with a sympathetic sandwich shop owner (John Carroll Lynch). Best of all, these moments all feel authentic and believable, without falling back on cliches or melodrama.

Though the film deals with sensitive material, Victor takes a light-handed approach that often uses humor to disarm the viewer without undercutting the emotional resonance. And though Victor wisely doesn’t give Agnes a magical resolution that erases her trauma, the film ends with a glimmer of hope – a reminder that sometimes the first step to dealing with an insurmountable problem is simply finding a way to talk about it with someone who will listen.

7. If I Had Legs, I’d Kick You (Mary Bronstein)

Easily the most anxiety-inducing experience I had in a theater last year, If I Had Legs, I’d Kick You is a film that’s tough to watch but unshakeable once you’ve seen it. Writer/director Mary Bronstein maintains a pressure cooker atmosphere throughout the nearly two-hour runtime, heaping endless layers of stress on her embattled female protagonist until she inevitably explodes.

Rose Byrne stars as Linda, a psychotherapist who is struggling immensely with the responsibility of caring for her sick daughter in addition to dealing with her own emotional issues. Her husband is constantly absent and provides no support whatsoever, expecting Linda to handle everything and only calling to criticize her behavior.

As if all that weren’t enough, water damage creates a giant hole in her apartment’s ceiling, forcing her to move with her daughter into a cheap motel. Linda turns to a work colleague (a dryly hilarious Conan O’Brien) for help, but he’s mostly indifferent. She also meets James (an effortlessly charismatic A$AP Rocky), an employee of the motel who tries to connect with Linda, but finds her extremely resistant to any form of companionship.

The screws keep tightening on Linda, as doctors pressure her to take better care of her child while her own patients seem to demand more and more from her. Byrne delivers a tour-de-force of a performance, carrying every scene in the film with the camera often mere inches from her face. She nails the conflicting notes of Linda’s character, making you feel sorry for her and exasperated with her in equal measure.

Bronstein makes some bold stylistic choices with the way she tells this story that I won’t spoil, pushing the film into surreal and even psychedelic territory at times. She also incorporates a lot of dark humor to offset the film’s oppressive atmosphere, peaking with a virtuoso sequence involving a hamster in a car that’s among the most hilarious and horrifying movie moments in recent memory.

It all adds up to a riveting portrayal of motherhood unlike anything I’ve seen, making the case that being solely responsible for another human being’s life is the most terrifying thing in the world. Many audience members will struggle to sympathize with Linda as she neglects and endangers her child, but I saw someone who was trying her best in the face of a world that couldn’t care less about how she feels. It all builds up to an emotionally complex stunner of an ending that hit me like a brick.

6. Sentimental Value (Joachim Trier)

The title of this movie is a clever misdirect, setting you up to expect a feel-good tear-jerker. But in fact, there is virtually no sentimentality to be found in this portrait of a fractured family that never strains to make you cry. Instead, Trier’s wonderful script carefully builds layers upon layers of subtle details that add up to a tremendous emotional impact.

Renate Reinsve stars as Nora, a successful theater actress who suffers from crippling stage fright and carries around heavy psychological baggage that stems from being abandoned by her father, acclaimed filmmaker Gustav Borg (Stellan Skarsgard). When Gustav suddenly reappears and plans to make a semi-autobiographical film starring Nora in the lead role, long-buried tensions and family secrets are exhumed, causing Nora to spiral out of control.

This isn’t the kind of film that can be captured easily in a plot summary. What makes Sentimental Value so affecting and impressive isn’t as much about what happens in the film as it is about how it’s executed. Beautifully shot, perfectly soundtracked, and written with the interior depth of a novel, this film is carefully calibrated to evoke vivid feelings in every moment.

But what’s most impressive of all about this film is the stellar performances from all four of its principal actors. Reinsve is a quiet storm of depression, her facial expressions communicating volumes in every scene despite the fact that she rarely talks. Skarsgard gives a towering performance in possibly the richest role of his career, one that should earn him a long-overdue Oscar. When the two of them are on-screen together, you can feel the dynamic of their entire history just through their body language.

Elle Fanning aces a difficult role as Rachel Kemp, the American star who takes the part that Gustav wrote for Nora after she passes on it. It’s a character who needs to seem credible as a successful actress, but also wrong for the part she’s playing and Fanning pulls this difficult balancing act off beautifully.

But the heart and soul of this movie is Inga Ibsdotter Lilleaas, who plays Nora’s younger sister Agnes. She’s tasked with shouldering nearly all of the movie’s emotional weight as she’s caught between Nora and her dad, two immovable objects that refuse to give in. It’s a subtle and graceful performance that feels lived-in without a single false note, much like the extraordinary film that contains it.

5. Marty Supreme (Josh Safdie)

If you’re looking for an adrenaline rush that sends you out of the theater feeling dazed and elated, Marty Supreme is that movie. Shot and edited with the same frenzied pace and manic energy that made Uncut Gems an instant classic, this film never takes its foot off the gas for even a second, forcing the audience to acclimate to the frantic tempo of its titular character’s chaotic existence.

Much like the leads in previous Safdie films, Marty Mauser (Timothee Chalamet) is a bit of a scumbag, all too willing to throw everyone around him under the bus if it gets him closer to his goal. In this case, his goal is a relatively obscure one that others tend to mock him for – he wants to be recognized as the greatest table tennis player in the world. More specifically, after a humiliating loss in the British Open, he’s determined to find a way to Tokyo and redeem himself in the World Championships.

On paper, this sounds like the plot of a formulaic sports movie, but it turns out to be anything but. Ping pong is actually relatively unimportant to the narrative, acting only as a jumping-off point for Safdie to plunge this colorful character into all sorts of high-stakes scenarios, from elaborate con games to robberies and even a bloody shootout. Though the ping-pong sequences are masterfully filmed to elicit maximum suspense, it’s the many seemingly random diversions in Marty’s story that make this movie such a thrilling experience.

Timothee Chalamet gives easily the best performance of his career so far as Marty, overflowing with charisma and confidence while delivering the script’s rapid-fire dialogue without a hitch. He’s ably supported by an eclectic cast that includes Gwyneth Paltrow, Fran Drescher, filmmaker Abel Ferrara, rapper Tyler Okonma, and businessman Kevin O’Leary (a hateful person who is admittedly perfectly cast in a villainous role). Standing out from this group is Odessa A’zion in a breakout performance that lends a much-needed emotional foundation to the film.

Perhaps even more crucial to this movie’s success is the transcendent score by the brilliant Daniel Lopatin, better known as Oneohtrix Point Never. His dizzying synth compositions provide every sequence with propulsive energy and soaring waves of euphoria that lift the film to new heights. Safdie’s expert direction is also aided by top-notch cinematography and stellar production design that flawlessly evokes the story’s 1950s setting.

Although Marty Supreme doesn’t quite reach the heights of Uncut Gems, it’s a beautifully-engineered roller coaster ride of a movie that kept me on the edge of my seat for two and a half hours and left me feeling satisfied at its conclusion. Some viewers may object to spending so much time with such an abrasive character, but to me, Safdie’s greatest trick is forcing us to roll around in the gutter with questionable people until we start to understand why they act the way that they do. Ultimately, Marty isn’t really a hero or a villain – he’s a bit of both and the film is all the better for it.

4. Bugonia (Yorgos Lanthimos)

2025 was the third year in a row that a new Yorgos Lanthimos film made my top five, capping an extraordinary run for the Greek provocateur. All three of those films have starred Emma Stone, establishing the duo as easily the most fruitful director/actor pairing of our time. And while Bugonia may not be the strongest of the three, it’s another ruthless and riveting dark comedy that will linger in your thoughts long after it’s over.

The plot, adapted from a 2003 South Korean film called Save the Green Planet, focuses on Teddy (Jesse Plemons), a basement-dwelling conspiracy theorist with a passion for beekeeping. He lives with and cares for his neurodivergent cousin Don (Aidan Delbis in a wonderful debut), who he enlists to help him kidnap big pharma CEO Michelle Fuller (Emma Stone) under the impression that she’s a member of an alien species responsible for slowly destroying the planet.

It’s immediately clear that Teddy is an unstable person, so deeply immersed in his chosen narrative where he gets to be the hero that he’s incapable of even considering alternate views. But there are also moments when he seems to have a point in spite of himself, especially as Michelle’s cold and manipulative demeanor does little to prove her humanity. The film quickly evolves into a battle of wits between the two of them, with the viewer suspended uncomfortably in between and not knowing who to root for.

As always, Lanthimos brings the story to life with visual splendor, shooting almost every scene on VistaVision cameras that result in stunning widescreen compositions. Will Tracy’s script is clever and deceptive, keeping the viewer guessing about the characters’ motivations and holding some surprising tricks up its sleeve in the final act. Most important of all, Plemons and Stone are both at the top of their game, nailing every nuance and convincingly portraying these heightened individuals as real people.

Even though Bugonia is quite funny at times, don’t expect a laugh-riot like Poor Things. I would actually describe this film as the saddest that Yorgos has made, with a core of existential despair that ultimately outweighs its silliness. The fact that both Teddy and Michelle have moments when they’re right and reveal more sympathetic dimensions to their characters only deepens the tragedy.

Reactions will vary to the wildly audacious conclusion, but I found it to be mind-blowing and unexpectedly moving. All the way through the credits, I could only sit in silence and keep pondering the answer to the question posed by the film’s final music cue – when will we ever learn?

3. No Other Choice (Park Chan-wook)

Park Chan-wook has been one of my favorite filmmakers since I discovered Oldboy when I was a teenager. He’s remained one of the most consistent directors in the world for the last twenty-plus years with several more classics under his belt including The Handmaiden, Lady Vengeance, and the criminally underrated I’m a Cyborg, But That’s OK. Though I wouldn’t quite put No Other Choice in the top tier of his filmography, it’s a morbidly hilarious and gleefully entertaining romp that’s directed with astonishing precision.

Adapted from a 1997 novel called The Axe by Donald Westlake, the plot centers on Yoo Man-su (Lee Byung-hun), an experienced and high-ranking employee at a paper company who suddenly loses his job after Americans take over the business. He vows to find new employment within three months, but over a year later, he remains adrift with only limited job openings available. Faced with the prospect of not being able to provide for his family and losing his home, Man-su concocts a devious plan to eliminate his competition.

The problem is that Man-su couldn’t be less suited to the task he has in mind, clumsily bumbling his way through an elaborate scheme that’s poorly conceived and even more poorly executed. He’s so bad at killing people that early in the film, you may wonder if he’ll ever manage to cross even the first name off his list. I won’t spoil whether he ultimately succeeds or fails, but the film does an excellent job of keeping you guessing where it’s going until it concludes on a perfect note that left me unsure whether to laugh or scream.

Lee-Byung-hun displays an impressive knack for physical comedy as Man-su, with wildly over-the-top facial expressions and gestures that often generate big laughs even during moments that are filled with suspense. Son Ye-jin also does excellent work as his wife Lee Mi-ri, her bubbly and flirtatious demeanor masking a shrewd pragmatism and ruthless devotion to protect her family.

Park flexes his directorial skills throughout, bombarding the viewer with wild camera angles and seamless transitions that often involve images superimposed on top of one another. The whole movie is a masterclass in visual storytelling and cinematic technique. One sequence in particular involving oven mitts, a handgun, and an old Korean pop song playing at absurd volume is the most brilliantly staged set piece in recent memory, both absurdly funny and breathlessly tense.

In this frightening time of living under late-stage capitalism and increased globalization, not to mention the acceleration of technology including AI, the premise of this movie doesn’t feel as far-fetched as it might seem. If faced with the prospect of losing everything that you’ve worked so hard to attain, what lines might you be willing to cross to hold on to what’s yours? No Other Choice poses this potent question to the audience, imagining a not-so-distant future where the only option left is to fight each other tooth and nail for whatever meager scraps remain.

2. Resurrection (Bi Gan)

The third film from writer/director Bi Gan, Resurrection is the most ambitious and overwhelming cinematic experience in recent memory. Packed to the brim with awe-inspiring imagery, it’s as visually dazzling as movies get. The cryptic narrative, built on a foundation of enigmatic riddles and allusions, will wear most viewers’ patience thin long before the story reaches its end. But if you’re up for the challenge, a powerful emotional undercurrent lurks beneath, waiting to sweep you away.

The plot, such as it can be described, takes place in an unspecified future when humans have given up the ability to dream in exchange for eternal life. Those who refuse to stop dreaming are called “Deliriants” and the agents who hunt them down are called “The Other Ones.” When one of these agents (Shu Qi) tracks down a Deliriant (Jackson Yee) on the verge of self-destruction who refuses to stop dreaming, she installs a film projector in his head and watches his dreams play out over the course of one hundred years.

The narrative is divided into five chapters, each one filmed in a different style to emulate various periods of movie history. The first part expertly utilizes the techniques of silent films and German Expressionism, creating a feast for the eyes that left me speechless. From there, the film shifts into a WWII-era mystery/thriller, a contemplative philosophical episode at a Buddhist temple, and a charming con artist plot featuring a precocious orphaned girl.

Best of all is the final chapter, set on New Years Eve in 1999 and focusing on a pair of young lovers beset by a vampire mafia. The couple just wants to survive long enough to see the sunset and their journey takes them down endless dark corridors and rain-soaked alleyways, through a rave in a bustling karaoke club, and finally onto an awaiting ship. The entire sequence is jaw-droppingly filmed as one unbroken take that lasts for nearly forty minutes.

Following through on the exceptional promise and command of craft shown in his first two films (2015’s Kaili Blues and 2018’s Long Day’s Journey Into Night, both of which also feature a stunning forty-plus minute single-take sequence), Bi Gan has firmly established himself in the top tier of modern filmmakers. Operating with no semblance of restraint, he creates a treasure trove of sensory delights. The cherry on top of the experience is a gorgeous score by French electronic musician M83 that conjures powerful swells of raw feeling.

If you’re looking for a movie with a clear story that you’ll fully understand by the end, this isn’t the film for you. I’ve seen it twice now and feel like I’m still only just beginning to unravel its endless thematic threads. But if you’re looking for an unforgettable experience that defies description, Resurrection is that rare film. It’s a stunning work of art that perfectly captures the feeling of being lost in a dream, and much like the tortured Deliriant at its story’s center, I never wanted to wake up.

1. Eddington (Ari Aster)

My favorite film of 2025 is the one that most accurately reflects our current reality. I’m not surprised that this movie struggled to find an audience and received many negative reviews, while One Battle After Another got raves for its more optimistic take on similar subject matter. People want to feel hopeful about the future and that’s understandable. But to me, OBAA feels shallow and inauthentic while Eddington feels chillingly real, perfectly capturing the endless fear and chaos that we’re all living through.

The film is set in the fictional town of Eddington, New Mexico in May 2020, during the height of the COVID-19 pandemic. Democratic mayor Ted Garcia (a shifty Pedro Pascal) implements lockdown orders while running a tech-friendly campaign for his reelection, centered on the construction of a new AI data center in Eddington. Sheriff Joe Cross (a pitch-perfect Joaquin Phoenix) disapproves of the mandates, believing that they’re a violation of personal freedom, and decides to run for mayor as Ted’s opposition.

Joe lives with his mentally unstable, reclusive wife Louise (Emma Stone, erasing herself completely in an unnerving performance) and conspiracy theorist mother-in-law Dawn (an excellent Deirdre O’Connell). After Joe announces his campaign, Louise disapproves and starts spending time with a charismatic cult leader named Vernon Jefferson Peak (Austin Butler, oozing limitless sleaze and charm).

Also factoring into the story are a group of teenage protesters, Joe’s deputies, the Pueblo tribe, and a mentally ill vagrant named Lodge. It’s a lot of characters and subplots to keep track of, and the film takes its time carefully setting everything up to the point that it requires some patience in the first half. But rest assured, Aster’s outstanding script eventually ties everything together, finally erupting into a jaw-dropping burst of violence and destruction at its conclusion.

Even though Eddington is set during the COVID-19 pandemic and deals directly with many of the horrors afflicting us on a daily basis, it’s not torturous to sit through by any means. In fact, the film is frequently hilarious and delivers several thrilling jolts to the point that I would actually call it entertaining, albeit extremely uncomfortable. It’s also magnificently shot and edited, with every frame popping off the screen and not a moment wasted.

The political commentary baked into the narrative feels sharp and earned, astutely recognizing that our problems run far deeper than the current administration. The truth is that both parties are essentially under the thumb of the same influences, so no matter who we vote for, we always lose. Much like the characters in Eddington, we’re all at the mercy of forces beyond our control, desperately clinging to a fragile reality that’s rapidly slipping away from us. It’s a tough feeling to live with, but this film crystallizes it so potently that at least you may feel a little bit less alone.

Album of the Year

Malibu – Vanities

(remaining albums are listed alphabetically by artist)

Black Moth Super Rainbow – Soft New Magic Dream

Musician Tom Fec is the mastermind behind two incredible projects, focusing most of his attention in recent years on his TOBACCO material. With Soft New Magic Dream, he’s brought BMSR back for the first time in seven years, since 2018’s masterful Panic Blooms. And while this album can’t quite match the transcendent highs of its predecessor, it’s another beautiful collection of deconstructed pop songs that will be sure to please longtime fans.

If someone were to accuse Fec of repeating himself across the six BMSR records, they wouldn’t be entirely wrong. He’s only made subtle tweaks to his sound over the years, continuing to rely on his foundation of dreamy analogue synths, blown-out bass and percussion, and heavily processed vocals that sound alternately gorgeous and unsettling. But it’s such a unique sound, not to mention so nostalgic for me on a personal level, that I never really get tired of it.

I will say that Soft New Magic Dream is the first BMSR album where I’m starting to feel the novelty wearing off a bit, probably because Panic Blooms felt like the peak of this specific style. But this record still has plenty of treasure to offer, from the ultra-crunchy guitar and bass riffs on “Tastebud” to the wall of whirring synths that sound like they’re crying on “The Eyes in Season.”

Blood Orange – Essex Honey

As the first new Blood Orange album in seven years, Essex Honey was one of my most-anticipated releases of 2025 and I wasn’t disappointed in the slightest. In fact, I think this is the best record that Devonte Hynes has made since 2013’s Cupid Deluxe and arguably his most cohesive, accomplished work to date.

While it may not offer as many catchy hooks or danceable grooves as some fans have come to expect from Blood Orange, Essex Honey more than makes up for its lack of simple pleasures with a staggering emotional impact. Hynes wrote this record in a state of grief after losing his mother, trying to find meaning and joy in his life again through music. The results are moving to say the least, framing the experience as a cathartic healing exercise for both Hynes and the listener.

But even if you don’t personally connect to the sentiment of this record, it’s still a marvel of production and composition. These tracks are filled to the brim with soaring vocal harmonies, rich sonic textures, and lush layers of instrumentation including piano, saxophone, cello, and more. The album also flows smoothly from top to bottom with creative transitions that occasionally reprise bits of earlier songs, adding to the overall feeling of cohesiveness.

Compared to many of the artists on this list, Hynes has enjoyed a surprising amount of success. Even more surprising, that success hasn’t stopped him from making exactly the music that he wants to make, not compromising his unique sound or catering his vision to appease fans. It’s extremely refreshing to see a true artist pouring his heart and soul into his work and actually being rewarded for it. And while I hope his next album doesn’t take seven years to make, the wait would be well worth it for more music of this caliber.

Deradoorian – Ready For Heaven

Angel Deradoorian is an incredibly gifted musician who deserves far more recognition than she’s received up to this point. Though she came to prominence as part of the band Dirty Projectors and has collaborated with the likes of Flying Lotus and Animal Collective frontman Avey Tare, her stellar solo discography has disappointingly flown under the radar. But if there’s any justice in this world, Ready For Heaven will change that.

Easily the artist’s most consistent and memorable record to date, this is an all-killer-no-filler collection of psychedelic rock jams and synth-pop bangers that only continues to improve with repeated listens. Deradoorian flexes her skills as a musician and producer throughout, packing these tracks with irresistible bass lines, funky keyboard riffs, and trippy sound effects in addition to her distinctive, pitch-perfect vocals that can shift from gentle to commanding at a moment’s notice.

Ready For Heaven is also one of the most conceptually relevant and affecting records released this year, dealing with the struggle to live ethically and continue to function as human beings in an increasingly dystopian society that’s being eroded by the effects of capitalism. It all culminates with “Hell Island,” a moving tribute to Palestine and the victims of genocide that concludes the album on a majestically powerful note.

Erika de Casier – Lifetime

The fourth album from Erika de Casier is easily her strongest work to date, a short and fast-paced collection of experimental R&B music featuring hooks that seem to lodge deeper in your brain with each listen. Entirely self-produced and released through her own independent label, this record showcases the Danish artist at the peak of her powers and has deservedly earned her lots of new fans as a result.

The instrumentals throughout this album are downright intoxicating, instantly establishing a deeply sensual vibe that never lets up. The percussion is crisp, the melodies are serene, and the low end kicks hard. Erika’s lighter-than-air vocals are the perfect complement to these compositions, her sultry voice and intimate lyrics gently guiding the listener through this achingly romantic experience.

Everything about this record feels authentic and effectively realized, right down to the beautiful cover art that sums up the mood of the music perfectly. It also has tremendous replay value, with the short length and complete lack of filler ensuring this album stayed in regular rotation for me all year long. After such an impressive breakthrough, I’ll be highly anticipating whatever de Casier does next.

James K – Friend

This album was an out-of-nowhere surprise for me this year, as I wasn’t familiar with any of James K’s previous music. But I felt immediately drawn in by her wispy vocals, which seem to float over the hypnotic instrumentals of these tracks like thin clouds stretching across the sky. Even though most of these songs lack traditional or obvious hooks, her melodies have a haunting quality that makes me want to keep returning to them.

At just over an hour, the album does feel a bit too long with a few tracks that drift by without leaving a strong impression. But the highs of this record are very high, with tracks such as “Lung Slide,” “Idea.2,” and “Blinkmoth (July Mix)” ranking among the most beautiful songs that I heard this year.

Neggy Gemmy – She Comes From Nowhere

After a series of solid releases under the alias Negative Gemini, Lindsey Elise French shortened her name to Neggy Gemmy and reinvented her sound with the excellent 2023 album CBD Reiki Moonbeam. While that record left me excited to see what she’d do next, She Comes From Nowhere represents a massive leap forward for her that ranks among the most colorful and exciting pop albums in recent memory.

Sadly, Neggy Gemmy’s music is probably a bit too weird to break into the mainstream. But if she could get the exposure she deserves, I think this album has crossover potential. Every single track here is fun, catchy, and easy to dance to, with infectious vocal melodies and stellar production. Most impressive of all, she does everything herself, even playing the guitar and making her own music videos.

As if all of that weren’t enough, this album is also brimming with personality in a way that feels far too rare these days. In a world of homogenized pop stars who all look and sound the same, French has established an image that’s endearingly playful and cinematic through her cartoonish Neggy Gemmy persona. After dropping a record as dynamic and effortlessly iconic as this one, it feels like the sky is the limit for her going forward.

Nmesh – The Molokai Compendium

The long-awaited follow-up to 2017’s instant classic Pharma, The Molokai Compendium is another head-spinning plunderphonics journey that runs as long as a feature film. Immersing the listener in a highly detailed sonic universe inspired by the vibe of a series of trashy 80s action movies set in Hawaii, it’s a thrilling listening experience that’s never predictable and always feels gloriously alive.

Though Nmesh’s music has primarily been associated with the vaporwave genre, this album feels like a new direction. While it retains his methodology of layering a dizzying number of samples on top of one another, the former drummer flexes his production chops here like never before, leaning more into other subgenres such as IDM and drum ’n’ bass.

The record’s 80-minute runtime is undeniably excessive, with a few too many short interlude tracks that don’t leave a strong enough impression to justify their inclusion. But the peaks of this album are truly incredible, ensuring that this is one trip to Hawaii you’ll never forget.

Oklou – Choke Enough

The debut record from Marylou Mayniel, Choke Enough might be the poppiest album to ever make one of my top ten lists. I’ll admit to feeling underwhelmed by it initially, with only a few tracks standing out to me on first listen. But I found myself coming back to the album repeatedly until it reached the point where I thoroughly enjoyed it top to bottom.

Choke Enough is a subtle listening experience, filled with soft, auto-tune accented vocals and haunting synth melodies that flit in and out of your consciousness like faded memories, too elusive to fully grasp yet too potent to let go of. It’s not an album that will light up the dancefloor, with the exception of “Harvest Sky,” a standout banger of a track that feels like going to a medieval rave. I’ve seen it described online as “club music for introverts,” which feels like the most appropriate label for Oklou’s style that I can think of.

Unlike most of the artists on this list, Oklou isn’t trying to blow your mind. She’s offering the simple pleasures and comforts of pop music wrapped in a new package that feels unique and exciting, to the point that I’m not surprised she’s selling out shows all over the world right now. It’s refreshing to see someone having success who actually deserves it – I only wish that more pop music sounded this good.

Oneohtrix Point Never – Tranquilizer

It wouldn’t be an understatement to say that Daniel Lopatin, better known as Oneohtrix Point Never, has fully established himself as an experimental music legend at this point. With seminal albums like 2015’s Garden of Delete and 2013’s R Plus Seven, plus his unforgettably propulsive scores for the Safdie Bros’ films Good Time and Uncut Gems, he’s left an indelible mark on the worlds of both music and cinema.

As a result, I have very high expectations going into any new OPN release, but Tranquilizer is his first album in a while to truly blow my mind. Built primarily from a massive library of commercial sample CDs released in the 90s, Lopatin twists, distorts, and blends sounds together in a way that’s nothing short of awe-inspiring. The result is a near-hour of unclassifiable music, songs that are virtually impossible to wrap your head around no matter how many times you listen.

Too spacy and ambient for dancing but too glitchy and jarring to relax to, Tranquilizer is the kind of music that will probably only appeal to a limited audience. But even if it requires stepping out of your comfort zone and challenging yourself, you’ll be hard-pressed to find any new music out there that’s more inventive and rewarding than this.

Panda Bear – Sinister Grift

The newest solo album from Animal Collective member Noah Lennox, Sinister Grift is easily the most straightforward and accessible music he’s ever released. While that accessibility has helped him earn some of the better reviews of his career with this album, I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t feel a little too easy to listen to at times.

Having said that, there’s nothing wrong with a good pop/rock album if it’s well-written and produced, which this one certainly is. Noah’s vocals and songwriting are in top form throughout, providing plenty of golden harmonies and memorable hooks that stick in your head. And everything sounds crisp thanks to some stellar co-production/mixing by fellow AC member Deakin.

Ultimately, I think this album achieves exactly what it sets out to do very well and ranks among the more pleasant listening experiences of 2025. And the more accessible quality of these songs might even introduce new listeners to Noah’s music, which is a wonderful thing. But for me personally, I can’t help hoping that he comes through with something a bit weirder the next time around.

Stereolab – Instant Holograms on Metal Film

I never thought we would get another Stereolab album. The influential psychedelic band went on an extended hiatus after their 2010 record Not Music, reuniting to play some live shows in recent years but not performing any new songs. Now “The Groop,” as longtime fans call them, has finally made a triumphant return with Instant Holograms on Metal Film, their first official album in fifteen years.

Considering how long it’s been, I could forgive the band for showing a little rust – in fact, I fully expected it. But much to my surprise, this record sounds just like peak Stereolab. Laetitia Sadier’s voice hasn’t aged a day, weaving her signature beguiling melodies in English and French while also playing trombone, tambourine, and more. Tim Gane and the rest of the band haven’t lost a step either, packing the mix with entrancing rhythms and dense layers of instrumentation obscured through walls of effects.

I guess the only complaint that could be lodged against this record is that there’s nothing surprising about it. But considering how long Stereolab has been gone and how well their sound has aged, nothing about this album feels stale in the slightest. It will be very interesting to see how the band progresses from here, but if it turns out that this is their last album, it would be one hell of a finale for an outstanding discography.

The Mars Volta – Lucro sucio; Los ojos del vacio

When Omar Rodriguez-Lopez and Cedric Bixler-Zavala reunited as The Mars Volta in 2022 after a ten-year hiatus, I was ecstatic. However, while finally getting to see them live was a dream come true, I felt a bit underwhelmed by their self-titled comeback album, which lacked the unbridled energy and sonic experimentation of their earlier work.

Though it’s unrealistic to expect anything to live up to the impossible bar set by the first three TMV albums, Lucro sucio is the most exciting and inspired music that the duo has released in nearly two decades. An unpredictable blend of rock, jazz, electronic, Latin, and even pop influences that all flows seamlessly together as one 50-minute piece of music, this album takes you on an immersive journey that requires multiple listens to fully absorb.

This is definitely a more low-key and less indulgent version of TMV, coming nowhere close to the spastic freakouts and epic song lengths of their early music. But it’s also a densely layered work that’s overflowing with lush textures and subtle details, as Omar demonstrates his unparalleled sound manipulation skills throughout. And Cedric navigates the many sudden tempo shifts and mood changes with ease, seeming to constantly produce catchy hooks out of thin air while also showcasing his penchant for cryptic, instantly quotable lyrics.

Sadly, this album received mixed reviews from fans and virtually no attention from anyone else. Like most TMV albums, it requires some time and effort to wrap your head around, so hopefully more people will discover this record in the future and give it the love it deserves.

10. Late Night with the Devil (Colin & Cameron Cairnes)

What if the devil took over a live television broadcast? That’s essentially the premise of this simple but effective throwback horror film, set during the taping of a fictional late night talk show on Halloween night in 1977. After an opening that efficiently summarizes the backstory of this talk show and its host, Jack Delroy (an excellent David Dastmalchian), the remainder of the movie is presented as a lost tape of the broadcast from that evening, complete with behind-the-scenes footage.

We learn early on that both the show and its host are in a precarious position, desperately needing this Halloween special to draw big ratings in order to stay on the air. The main event of the night is an interview with parapsychologist June Ross-Mitchell (Laura Gordon) and the subject of her book, Lilly D’Abo (a chilling Ingrid Torelli) – a young girl who is the sole survivor of a cult that committed mass suicide and now claims to have a demon living inside her.

Jack, more concerned about saving his career than the mental health of this obviously disturbed child, encourages her to summon the demon so he can speak to it on the air. Needless to say, things quickly get out of hand with disastrous consequences for everyone involved in the production. But is a genuine supernatural force of evil at work or is it all merely a case of showbiz trickery?

I won’t reveal the answer, but the clever script kept me guessing for most of the film. Rather than relying on jump scares or graphic gore, this movie makes an impact through its carefully constructed atmosphere, slowly building up suspense and dread until everything finally explodes in a bonkers climax. With its nostalgic aesthetic, brisk pacing, and impressively executed scares, Late Night with the Devil has all the makings of a modern Halloween classic.

9. Love Lies Bleeding (Rose Glass)

The sophomore effort from British filmmaker Rose Glass, Love Lies Bleeding is a propulsive thriller that never takes its foot off the gas. Though it doesn’t reach the heights of her masterful debut, Saint Maud, it’s a stylish and furiously entertaining ride that confirms Glass is a filmmaker to watch.

Set in rural New Mexico in 1989, the plot centers around gym owner Lou (Kristen Stewart), a reclusive lesbian who feels trapped in her boring small-town life. When a bodybuilder named Jackie (Katy O’Brian) arrives in town, Lou is immediately smitten and the two of them develop a passionate relationship. But it isn’t long before a series of complications involving Lou’s shady criminal past plunges the couple into a violent nightmare that threatens to destroy their whirlwind romance.

Stewart and O’Brien give strong performances, displaying a genuine chemistry that makes the connection between them believable. They’re backed by a solid supporting cast that includes Dave Franco, Anna Baryshnikov, Jena Malone, and a reliably excellent Ed Harris. But the true star of this movie is the style – the neon-hued cinematography, 80’s inspired outfits, and a pulsing synth score by Clint Mansell keep your senses engaged from start to finish.

The only weak point is the script, which doesn’t do enough to develop its two main characters and stretches plausibility at times to a frustrating degree, even by the standards of a thriller. On the other hand, the film is so relentlessly paced, suspenseful, and unpredictable that it doesn’t give you time to overthink anything. Even if it doesn’t totally hold up after reflection, it’s hard to knock something that held me so tightly in its grip. Reactions will vary significantly to Love Lies Bleeding, but I can guarantee one thing – you won’t be bored.

8. The Coffee Table (Caye Casas)

A pitch-black horror-comedy from Spain, The Coffee Table somehow manages to elicit uproarious laughs from one of the least funny situations imaginable. I won’t say what that situation is since it would spoil the film, but fair warning – if you’re even remotely sensitive, stay far away from this one. However, if you’re up for it, this movie delivers a shock to the system that’s both mortifying and exhilarating.

The story focuses on Jesús (David Pareja) and María (Estefanía de los Santos), a married couple with a newborn baby who we meet in a furniture store as they bicker incessantly over whether to purchase a coffee table. María thinks the table is tacky and doesn’t trust the slimy salesman’s promise that the glass is unbreakable, but Jesús insists on getting it. María ultimately relents and goes out to buy groceries while Jesús sets up the table and…

What happens next should be discovered for yourself, but suffice to say the story goes to a place that few films would dare – and that’s just the beginning. Over the course of 90 minutes, The Coffee Table wrings an unbearable amount of tension out of its simple premise, always undercut with biting humor. This is the kind of movie that will make you laugh and squirm at the same time, keeping you on the edge of your seat all the way through its brutal and unforgiving climax.

7. The Substance (Coralie Fargeat)

A ruthless takedown of Hollywood beauty standards and the unrealistic expectations placed on women as they age, The Substance is a grotesque roller-coaster ride that doesn’t let up for one second of its nearly two-and-a-half-hour runtime. Featuring some of the wildest body-horror and jaw-dropping prosthetic effects in recent memory, it’s a film that will either have you riveted or repulsed within the first few scenes – maybe both.

Demi Moore stars as Elizabeth Sparkle, a Hollywood actress and TV personality whose career is spiraling as she turns 50 (Moore is actually 62 in real life and still looks fantastic, making the character feel even more tragic). Elizabeth’s harsh reality is brilliantly and wordlessly summarized in a stunning opening montage that shows her star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame slowly fading and cracking over time, before she’s fired for the crime of being too old by her misogynist pig of a boss (a hilariously revolting Dennis Quaid).

Soon after, she discovers a mysterious treatment called The Substance that claims it can unlock “a younger, better version of yourself.” Elizabeth injects herself with the serum and turns into a gorgeous doppelganger who calls herself Sue (Margaret Qualley). Sue quickly becomes a star, but to maintain this version of herself, Sue and Elizabeth have to switch bodies every seven days, with no exceptions. What could possibly go wrong?

To say that this movie goes off the rails is an understatement, with Elizabeth/Sue’s misuse of The Substance leading to unimaginable physical consequences. It all feels constantly on the verge of falling apart but never does, thanks to Fargeat’s stylish direction and a pair of fearless, ultra-committed performances by Moore and Qualley.

Ironically, The Substance is a bit light on just that. It’s too long and feels repetitive at times, never exploring its worthy themes beyond surface level. The most powerful and memorable scene in the movie doesn’t involve any gore – it simply shows Elizabeth getting ready for a date that she’ll never make it to because she can’t figure out how to look in the mirror without hating herself. I wish the film had more moments like this, but despite its flaws, The Substance is a thrillingly unrestrained and gloriously entertaining sensory overload that you won’t forget.

6. Anora (Sean Baker)

Sean Baker has delivered his most accessible film to date in Anora, a raunchy crowd-pleaser that seems poised to elevate him from indie darling to Oscar nominee. Seamlessly progressing from a fairytale romance to a screwball comedy before ending in tragedy, Baker’s excellent script and tight direction ensure the film’s many tones don’t clash while never allowing its central character to get lost in all the noise.

And what a character Anora “Ani” Mikheeva is, played brilliantly by Mikey Madison in a star-making performance. Ani is a stripper in Brooklyn who happens to speak some Russian, which leads to her services being requested by a young client named Vanya (a hilarious Mark Eydelshteyn, alternately charming and despicable). It turns out Vanya is the son of extremely wealthy Russian oligarchs and he seems smitten with Ani, offering to pay her to be his girlfriend for a week until he goes back to Russia.

Ani is quickly addicted to her lavish new lifestyle and when Vanya proposes they get married so he can stay in America, she eagerly agrees. Needless to say, Vanya’s parents aren’t pleased with the marriage and it isn’t long before Vanya’s handler Toros (Karren Karagulian) shows up at the door with two henchmen in tow (Yura Borisov and Vache Tovmasyan), and all hell breaks loose.

As a fan of Baker’s previous work, I wasn’t surprised that Anora is beautifully shot, sharply written, and wonderfully acted. What I didn’t expect is that it would be the funniest movie of the year, with several moments that had me laughing out loud in the theater. Toros and his two henchmen evolve into a Three Stooges-like comic dream team, bumbling incompetently through one riotous scene after another. But amidst all the absurdity and chaos, it’s Madison’s towering performance that holds everything together, ensuring you never lose interest even when the story’s momentum stalls.

Of course, Anora isn’t all laughs. Baker is far too serious and ambitious of a filmmaker to let his audience off the hook with a neat and tidy resolution. For most of the movie, Ani seems to have found a golden ticket to escape her desperate existence, and you sincerely hope she can hang on to it – but reality inevitably comes crashing in during the film’s quietly devastating climax.

5. Terrifier 3 (Damien Leone)

Unlike other slasher franchises that get dumber and duller with each sequel, the Terrifier films manage to keep raising the bar. This is thanks to the singular vision of writer/director/editor Damien Leone, a vision that he’s been able to maintain total control of by making his movies outside of the studio system. These films are made by slasher fans for slasher fans, with the passion and enthusiasm of everyone involved evident in each frame.

Terrifier 3 begins with an immaculately crafted opening scene that features Art the Clown in a Santa suit, invading a family’s home and mercilessly slaughtering them one by one. It’s shocking and disturbing, but undercut with a twisted sense of humor – like when Art takes a break to enjoy some milk and cookies. After this jolt of a start, we catch up with our heroine Sienna Shaw, who has been in a mental institution suffering from paranoia and hallucinations. When she checks out to visit her aunt and uncle for Christmas, it isn’t long before Art returns to wreak havoc, destroying any chance she has of moving forward with a normal life.

David Howard Thornton gives his best performance yet as Art, cementing the character as a slasher icon and villain for the ages. Genuinely creepy and formidable but also oddly charming and hilarious, Thornton’s Vaudevillian silent act is unforgettable. Despite this, he’s actually upstaged at times by Samantha Scaffidi as Victoria Heyes, his demonically possessed partner-in-crime. Her chilling, maniacal presence is a constant delight and justifies Leone’s decision to keep the character around this long.

But above all, it’s Lauren LaVera who anchors the film and makes it work. After leaving a strong first impression in Terrifier 2, she proves beyond a doubt that she’s a bona fide star by delivering one of the best performances of the year in any genre. It’s no easy task to be achingly vulnerable in one scene and a fearless warrior in the next, but LaVera nails this difficult balancing act and ensures the audience is completely invested in what happens to Sienna every step of the way. In a just world, she’d be getting Oscar attention.

Moving at a relentless, breakneck pace from one insanely gory set piece to the next, Terrifier 3 rarely gives you a moment to breathe. It feels a bit rushed at times, but that’s nitpicking for a movie this deliriously fun. And any minor flaws are easily forgiven during an all-timer of a climax that had me ready to leap to my feet and applaud in the theater (Sienna and Art in a sword vs. chainsaw duel? Yes please!). I can’t wait to see what Leone has in store for the finale of this epic, blood-soaked saga.

4. The Girl with the Needle (Magnus von Horn)

A Danish film set at the end of World War 1, The Girl with the Needle is an exquisitely crafted and deeply disquieting piece of filmmaking. With its stunning black and white cinematography, painstaking set design, and nerve-jangling score, the film immediately establishes a haunting atmosphere that holds you in its grip and never lets go.

The excellent script, which boldly incorporates real historical events into a fictional narrative, focuses on a downtrodden young woman named Karoline (Vic Carmen Sonne). This is the type of movie where it’s hard to talk much about the plot without spoiling the experience, so I’ll avoid specifics – but through a series of unfortunate events, Karoline ends up with a baby she doesn’t want and lacks the resources to take care of. By chance, she encounters a mysterious older woman named Dagmar (Trine Dyrholm) who runs an underground adoption agency that finds foster families for unwanted babies.

Karoline gives her baby to Dagmar and starts working for her as a wet nurse, with the two women developing a close bond during their time together. But it isn’t long before Karoline starts to grow suspicious about the work they’re doing, leading to a shocking revelation that will change both women’s lives forever.

At just under two hours, the film is perfectly paced and doesn’t waste a moment, with every seemingly minor detail eventually producing a satisfying payoff. Sonne and Dyrholm are both terrific, communicating multitudes about their characters merely through their eyes and facial expressions. Von Horn’s direction is exceptional, displaying a fully-formed vision and command of craft that has me very excited to see what he’ll do next.

Though it may be an unpleasant and difficult watch, The Girl with the Needle is never even remotely boring or tedious. Every frame of the film feels gloriously alive, immersing you completely in its grim, gothic world. And while the story is undeniably disturbing and sad, Von Horn chooses to end his film with a glimmer of hope. As Dagmar puts it: “The world is a horrible place – but we need to believe it isn’t so.”

3. Kinds of Kindness (Yorgos Lanthimos)

After achieving international success and major awards recognition, Yorgos Lanthimos returns to his absurdist dark comedy roots with Kinds of Kindness, his longest and perhaps least accessible film to date. If you’re not a fan of his previous work, this one won’t win you over. But if you’re an admirer, Kinds of Kindness is the ultimate Lanthimos film – wildly ambitious with an inimitable style that’s alternately hilarious and unsettling, but most of all, just plain weird.

Any attempt to summarize the plot (or plots) of this movie is pointless. The film is presented as a “triptych fable,” meaning it’s divided into three separate stories which are all told from beginning to end before shifting to the next chapter. The three parts have almost zero connections between them and focus on different characters, but in a stroke of brilliance, Lanthimos uses the same group of actors in each one. It’s an inventive structure that works beautifully, making the nearly three-hour runtime fly by and giving the cast ample opportunities to demonstrate their range.

And what a cast it is – of all the films released in 2024, Kinds of Kindness easily featured the best acting ensemble from top to bottom. Taking the lead in the first two chapters is Jesse Plemons, a great character actor who seizes the meatiest role(s) of his career and delivers a tour de force. Emma Stone, working with Lanthimos for the third time, aces supporting roles in the first two parts before taking the lead in the finale. Though not on the level of her performance in Poor Things, it’s still outstanding work that continues the incredible hot streak she’s been on recently.

Also returning from Poor Things are Willem Dafoe and Margaret Qualley. Dafoe is riveting as a domineering boss and a mysterious cult leader, while Qualley shines as a pair of identical twins who may or may not have special powers. Rounding out the cast are Hong Chau, Joe Alwyn, and Mamoudou Athie, who each make the most of small roles. Though she’s not part of the main ensemble, Hunter Schafer has a brief cameo in the final part and leaves a strong impression.

As the title implies, Kinds of Kindness explores the many different and often destructive ways that human beings can relate to one another, delving deeply and uncomfortably into lopsided power dynamics, sadomasochism, and cult mentality. Working with longtime collaborators Efthimis Filipou (co-writer), Robbie Ryan (cinematographer), Yorgos Mavropsaridis (editor), and Jerskin Fendrix (composer), Lanthimos maintains the unique cinematic style he’s known for without repeating himself, pushing his vision to bizarre and twisted new heights. With Kinds of Kindness, he’s delivered a knockout that proves experimental cinema is alive and well.

2. Red Rooms (Pascal Plante)

Here’s a film that doesn’t show a single moment of violence onscreen, yet left me feeling deeply disturbed with an immediate urge to take a shower afterward. A French-language Canadian thriller, Red Rooms focuses on the trial of Ludovic Chevalier (Maxwell McCabe-Lokos), a man accused of kidnapping three teenage girls and broadcasting their murders in a “red room,” a type of chat room hidden in the deepest corners of the dark web where audiences can pay to watch live snuff films.

We’re introduced to the case through the eyes of Kelly-Anne (Juliette Gariépy), a fashion model whose personal life is completely isolated and hyper-online. It quickly becomes apparent that she’s developed an obsession with Chevalier’s case for reasons that are unclear and remain so for most of the film. She sleeps outside the courthouse at night to ensure she gets one of the few seats open to the public each day and befriends a naïve girl named Clementine (a terrific Laurie Babin), who is adamantly convinced of Chevalier’s innocence.

Does Kelly-Anne also believe Chevalier is innocent, or are her motivations more sinister and complex? Maybe there’s something seriously wrong with this striking woman who appears so calm and controlled on the surface, yet spends her spare time surfing the dark web and destroying opponents in online poker games (“I love seeing them lose everything,” she says – yikes!). Gariépy gives a brilliant performance that’s both chilling in its ambiguity and genuinely frightening in its dead-eyed, perpetual numbness. In a year stacked with outstanding performances, hers is the one I can’t shake.

The lack of definitive answers to the many questions raised by Kelly-Anne’s behavior may be frustrating to some viewers, but it’s also what makes the film so compulsively watchable. With its muted color palette and long, uninterrupted takes, Red Rooms is a slow, demanding, and deeply unpleasant experience – yet watching it, I can’t help but want to sink deeper into the rabbit-hole until I know and understand everything, an obsessive drive that mirrors the mental state of the film’s damaged and unforgettable lead.

1. I Saw The TV Glow (Jane Schoenbrun)

It’s exceedingly rare that a fresh and original cinematic voice emerges, delivering a film unlike anything I’ve seen before – Jane Schoenbrun is that rare filmmaker and I Saw The TV Glow is that rare film, a once-in-a-decade masterpiece that has rarely left my thoughts since I first saw it in theaters over eight months ago. I’ve since watched the film at home two more times, deepening my love and appreciation for it while discovering new layers and details with each viewing.

The story starts in 1996 and centers around two socially isolated suburban teens, Owen (Justice Smith) and Maddy (Brigette Lundy-Paine). The two bond over an obscure TV show called The Pink Opaque, which depicts the adventures of psychic teens Isobel (Helena Howard) and Tara (Lindsey Jordan) as they battle Mr. Melancholy, a supervillain with the power to warp time who lives on the moon.

For Owen and Maddy, the show is such a powerful obsession that the lines between fantasy and reality eventually start to blur, as elements of the show begin to alarmingly mirror and cross over into their everyday lives. Is it possible The Pink Opaque could be more than just a TV show? “Sometimes the show feels more real than real life,” Maddy admits in a moment of aching authenticity. Owen isn’t convinced, but when Maddy suddenly disappears without a trace, he’s left alone to search for answers, struggling to find the courage to open himself up and see what’s inside.

To say anything more would spoil the journey and the many surprises this magical film holds in store. This is the kind of movie where you can tell even the smallest details were carefully considered – the script is loaded with subtle narrative clues and obscure 90’s pop culture references. Schoenbrun is an auteur with a fully-formed vision who knows exactly how to bring it to life, assisted by Eric K. Yue’s colorfully vibrant cinematography, Sofi Marshall’s crisp editing, and Alex G’s evocative score. A killer original soundtrack featuring Yeule, Caroline Polachek, and many more is the cherry on top.

Still, none of this would work without the two leads. Smith delivers a heart-wrenching portrait of loneliness and dysphoria, while Lundy-Paine stuns with their steely-eyed intensity and fearless commitment to the role. Both actors nail the film’s subtle build-up of emotions, culminating in a crescendo that left me shattered to pieces. Equal parts coming-of-age story, surrealist fantasy-horror, and an allegory for the trans experience, I Saw The TV Glow isn’t just the best film of 2024 – it’s one of the most haunting and moving experiences I’ve ever had at the cinema.

10. BlackBerry (Matt Johnson)

Remember when checking emails on your phone felt like a revolutionary thing? For a brief, shining moment in time, the BlackBerry was the peak of cell phone technology and made up almost 50% of the market – until the iPhone came along and made it obsolete practically overnight. From Canadian writer/director Matt Johnson (who also plays the goofy but kind-hearted co-founder Doug Fredin in the film), BlackBerry charts the quick rise and even more precipitous fall of the world’s first smartphone.

It’s not the most surprising or exciting story, as it basically amounts to how a good idea can be driven into the ground by a combination of greed, naiveté, and the unrealistic demands of the financial marketplace. But while the film feels lacking in drama and suspense, it still manages to leave an impression thanks to a solid script and an explosive supporting turn by It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia star Glenn Howerton that’s worth the price of admission on its own.

9. Killers of the Flower Moon (Martin Scorsese)

This was my most anticipated film of the year, hands down. A compelling and little-known true story about the systematic robbing and murder of the Osage Nation directed by Martin Scorcese, starring Leonardo DiCaprio and Robert De Niro – how could it not be a masterpiece? But sadly, as much as I wanted to love this movie, I found it to be very disappointing.

Based on a book by David Grann, the film tells the story of the Osage tribe, who became extremely wealthy after discovering oil on their land. However, it wasn’t long before greedy, evil white people started scheming to steal all the wealth through a series of manipulative marriages and brutal murders, robbing the Osage of what was rightfully theirs and leaving them with nothing. The sinister plan is led by King William Hale (De Niro), who enlists his nephew Ernest (DiCaprio) to help by marrying a rich Osage woman named Mollie (Lily Gladstone).

It sounds like a great movie and it could’ve been, but the telling of this story is riddled with flaws, chief among them the regrettable decision (seemingly spurred by DiCaprio) to tell the story from Ernest’s perspective. Ernest is a dull, one-note character who becomes extremely tiresome over the course of such a long movie and Hale is similarly one-dimensional, a banal portrait of evil. Not only are they boring characters, but we know all the details of their plan from the beginning of the film, creating a feeling of repetitiveness and inevitability that robs the story of any tension or momentum.

This is especially problematic considering the gargantuan three-and-a-half-hour runtime, which frequently drags in a way that The Irishman didn’t. The film moves in fits and spurts, often feeling like it doesn’t prioritize the right things. For example, Ernest and Mollie’s relationship never feels like it makes sense and the FBI investigation that ultimately uncovered the crimes is completely glossed over.

This really should be Mollie’s story and Gladstone gives easily the best performance in the film, which makes it all the more frustrating that she’s left underdeveloped and sidelined for a large portion of the narrative. Overall, Killers of the Flower Moon is well-shot, well-acted, and features some powerful moments. It’s certainly not a bad movie, but it could’ve been so much better, making it hard to not view it as a missed opportunity.

8. Oppenheimer (Christopher Nolan)

Christopher Nolan is one of my favorite filmmakers and he’s made some genuine masterpieces (The Dark Knight, Inception, Memento) – however, I was left unimpressed by Dunkirk and outright hated the disaster that was Tenet. Oppenheimer represents a return-to-form of sorts for Nolan after two unsatisfying films in a row, but I still can’t say that I loved this movie the way most people seem to.

Part of the disconnect for me has to do with my own personal feelings – I simply do not care about J. Robert Oppenheimer, the man who invented a weapon that killed hundreds of thousands of innocent people, nor can I empathize with him. I was bored for most of the first half of this movie, as Nolan’s script gets bogged down in long explanations of theoretical physics and underdeveloped, passionless romances. The three-hour runtime feels significantly too long for this story and I can’t say I felt that I understood or cared about Oppenheimer as a person any more at the end of the movie than I did going in.

However, there is still much to praise about this film. For starters, Cillian Murphy is terrific in the title role and the supporting cast is filled with great character actors doing solid work, including Robert Downey Jr., Emily Blunt, and Benny Safdie. It’s also immaculate on a technical level, from its stunning cinematography and pitch-perfect set design to the jaw-dropping sound work and Ludwig Göransson’s pulsing, hypnotic score.

The sequence depicting the first test of the atom bomb is a master-class in suspense and the final hour of the film thankfully delves into the fallout and moral implications of what Oppenheimer did, ending the story on a chilling and thought-provoking note. Personally, I would’ve liked to see a lot more of that and a lot less about the creation of the bomb or the private hearing to revoke Oppenheimer’s security clearance. But even though I have some significant issues with the film and am not enthralled by it the way most people seem to be, it’s undeniably well-crafted and worth experiencing on the biggest screen you can find.

7. Sanctuary (Zachary Wigon)

Eroticism is a quality that I find to be sorely lacking in current cinema. For that reason, I found Sanctuary to be a refreshing and entertaining experience, despite its limitations. The bare-bones plot centers on Hal (Christopher Abbott), a shy and self-loathing man on the verge of inheriting the CEO position of a lucrative hotel chain from his recently deceased father. Knowing he’s about to be thrust into a position of power and fearing the public spotlight that will come with it, he attempts to end his long-time relationship with professional dominatrix Rebecca (Margaret Qualley).

Rebecca doesn’t take this casual dismissal well and demands compensation for helping Hal become the man he is today, saying he could never be a CEO without her. Things quickly get out of hand, escalating into blackmail and violence, as the intense power struggle between the duo threatens to upend both of their lives.

Sanctuary is about as simple and minimalist as a film can be, with all of the action taking place in a single room and only featuring the two main characters. However, it’s never boring thanks to the short runtime, clever script, and outstanding performances by the two leads. Qualley in particular is revelatory in a performance that’s sexy, frightening, and vulnerable all at once.

Ultimately, despite all the kinkiness that may make some viewers uncomfortable, Sanctuary is a genuinely affectionate love story between two broken people who are only right for each other. It’s not quite like any relationship I’ve seen onscreen before and I hope it inspires other filmmakers to push the boundaries of conventional romance.

6. Thanksgiving (Eli Roth)

Of the several fake trailers made for Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez’s iconic Grindhouse double feature experience, Eli Roth’s Thanksgiving was my favorite of the bunch. Now, over 15 years later, Roth has expanded the idea into a feature-length film and it’s easily his best work to date. Though not as sleazy and shocking as the original trailer, Thanksgiving is a gory, hilarious blast of a movie that gleefully pays homage to the glory days of slasher cinema.

Set in Plymouth, a small town in Massachusetts that takes great pride in its Thanksgiving celebrations, the film begins with a bang as chaos erupts at a superstore on Black Friday. It’s an alternately thrilling and hysterical opening sequence, making you cringe at the behavior of the characters and wince at the unhinged violence that follows. By the time the blood-red title card filled the screen, I already knew I was in for a treat.

The plot quickly jumps to the following year, with the town still reeling from last year’s riot, yet planning to carry on with the usual festivities anyway. But suddenly, bodies start dropping all over town, victims of a killer who conceals his face with a mask of original pilgrim John Carver. It quickly becomes apparent that the killer has some sort of personal grudge related to the riot, as he targets a group of teenagers who were all there that night and played a role in escalating the situation.

If you’re looking for a great mystery or a genuinely frightening horror film, this isn’t it. But if you like horror that’s self-aware and takes a more comedic approach to the material, this is one of the best examples in recent memory. Featuring its fair share of laugh-out-loud one-liners and some genuinely creative kill sequences, Thanksgiving is the most fun I had in a movie theater last year.

5. The Boy and the Heron (Hiyao Miyazaki)

The twelfth and most likely final film from legendary anime director Hiyao Miyazaki, The Boy and the Heron is yet another transfixing, fantastical journey from an animator who remains unrivaled in his ability to conjure sensations of child-like awe. Each of Miyazaki’s films, even the weaker ones, give you the feeling of being pulled into a vivid dream and this one is no exception.

After losing his mother in a hospital fire, a young boy named Mahito is forced to move to the countryside with his emotionally distant father, who quickly gets remarried to the sister of his deceased wife. Unsurprisingly, Mahito isn’t quick to warm up to his new mother and struggles to fit in at school. After a fight in which he’s seriously injured, strange things begin to happen, including frequent visits from a talking grey heron. Eventually, Mahito decides to follow the heron into a mysterious tower that seems to be the gateway to another world, pulling the boy into a hallucinatory odyssey that will teach him many things about himself and the mother he lost.

As viewers have come to expect from Miyazaki, the quality of the animation is top-tier and the sheer imaginativeness of the world-building is staggering. It’s probably one of the most beautiful-looking animated films that I’ve seen and features a mature, complex story to go with it. In fact, the film is layered with personal meaning to the point that I know I’ll need a second viewing to fully absorb it.

Released in Japan under the much-cooler and more appropriate title How Do You Live?, the 83 year-old filmmaker uses this dark fable of a movie to reflect on his own legacy and challenge his audience with that very question. In a world filled with darkness and despair, is it possible to build a reality that’s pure and untouched by evil? According to Miyazaki, the best way to start is to embrace the people you have in your life, learning to love and accept them for who they really are.

4. Anatomy of a Fall (Justine Triet)

The Palme D’Or winner at last year’s Cannes Film Festival, Anatomy of a Fall is a ruthless and riveting French courtroom drama that puts a fractured relationship on trial after the husband (Samuel Theis) suspiciously falls to his death. When his body is discovered by the couple’s blind son Daniel (Milo Machado Graner), it triggers an investigation that quickly casts suspicion on Sandra (a terrific Sandra Huller), with the lengthy trial leaving no stone unturned in the couple’s tumultuous past.

A successful writer who’s known for crafting fictional narratives that draw heavily from her real-life experience, Sandra is almost immediately vilified by the public and the prosecution, as details in her story fail to add up and surprising new evidence is discovered. From the beginning of the film, it’s easy to jump to the conclusion that she’s guilty – but is the case really that simple? Writer/director Justine Triet, along with her co-writer and real-life husband Arthur Hararri, dole out information slowly and methodically, casting doubt on what really happened and never offering a definitive answer.

Some viewers may find the ambiguity frustrating, but for me, it’s what makes the film a memorable and thought-provoking experience. Instead of a typical whodunit murder mystery, the script is more interested in how quickly people form assumptions without knowing the full context behind events, and how the process of being tried can irreparably shatter people’s lives regardless of what the verdict ends up being. When it’s impossible to ever know the truth of something, how do we decide what the truth is for ourselves? After giving us all the known details of the case, Anatomy of a Fall poses this difficult question to the viewer and asks them to form their own opinion.

3. Dream Scenario (Kristoffer Borgli)

Featuring the most bizarre and mind-bending narrative of the year, Dream Scenario mixes elements of science fiction, absurdist comedy, social satire, and even a bit of psychological horror into an unforgettable experience that stayed in my thoughts well after the credits rolled. Touching on themes including the fickle nature of celebrity, the cynicism of advertising, the hive mind effect of social media, and more, it’s a movie that gives the audience a lot to think about while also never failing to entertain.

Nicholas Cage gives one of the best performances of his career as Paul Matthews, a sad sack college professor who doesn’t seem capable of commanding much attention or respect from anybody. Suddenly, everything changes when people start claiming that he’s been appearing in their dreams, including many who he’s never met. This bizarre and inexplicable phenomenon (the script wisely never offers a reason why it’s happening) thrusts Paul into the spotlight and turns him into a celebrity almost overnight.

Rather than acting cautiously or questioning the situation, Paul revels in the newfound attention, seeing it as a springboard to help him achieve his unfulfilled professional ambitions. Before long, his presence in others’ dreams evolves from a passive bystander into an active participant, with results that range from hilarious to deeply disturbing as Paul quickly learns that fame doesn’t come without consequences.

To say anything more would be revealing too much – this is an unpredictable film that holds many surprises in its clever, intricate script. Filmed in an unconventional, surrealist style that blurs the line between what’s real and what’s imagined, Dream Scenario repeatedly disorients the viewer all the way up to its bittersweet and moving conclusion – a final scene that suggests if there are no happy endings in real life, at least we can create one in our dreams.

2. Poor Things (Yorgos Lanthimos)

Yorgos Lanthimos is undoubtedly one of the most unique filmmakers working today, though I’ve had mixed reactions to his previous films. He finally won me over with Poor Things, a demented comedy and witty parable that’s unlike anything else I’ve seen. With its gorgeous cinematography that evolves from stark black-and-white to eye-popping color and its inventive set design that blends Victorian-era society with a sci-fi steampunk aesthetic, it’s the most visually striking movie of the year.

But for all the stunning craftsmanship on display, what really makes Poor Things a memorable experience is the delightful characters, impeccably brought to life by some phenomenal actors. Emma Stone gives the best performance of the year (and her career) as Bella Baxter, an adult woman with the brain of an infant child. It’s an incredibly challenging role that requires the star to fearlessly bare her body and lose all recognizable traces of herself, from her voice to her appearance to the way she moves, as Bella gradually learns about the world and her place in it.

Willem Dafoe is brilliant as Godwin, who Bella amusingly calls “God”, the mad but tender-hearted scientist who gave Bella life and desperately tries to protect her innocence. But when Bella becomes aware that there’s a whole world outside of the carefully maintained bubble she’s been kept in, she insists on seeing it for herself and embarks on an odyssey of self-discovery that opens her eyes to the joys of sexual pleasure and friendship, as well as more serious topics including the horrors of patriarchal society and the injustice of economic inequality.

Joining Bella on this journey is Duncan (Mark Ruffalo), a shallow and manipulative womanizer who only grows more loathsome and pathetic throughout the film as he realizes that the seemingly innocent and naïve Bella won’t be so easy for him to control. Ruffalo strikes comic gold in a role that seems way against type for him, completing a trifecta of award-worthy performances from this stacked ensemble. Offering a rare combination of rich characters, dreamy visuals, sharp social commentary, and gut-busting laughs, Poor Things is an enchanting fairytale that feels destined to become a classic.

1. Monster (Hirokazu Kore-Eda)

Who’s the monster? The newest film from acclaimed Japanese director Hirokazu Kore-Eda (Shoplifters) asks that question repeatedly over the course of its runtime without ever providing an answer – it’s up to the viewer to decide for themselves and your answer is likely to change several times. One could even argue that there isn’t a monster in this story at all, as the deceptively layered script shifts perspectives throughout, revisiting scenes through the eyes of different characters to give them new meaning until the whole truth is finally revealed.

The plot centers on Minato (Sōya Kurokawa), a young boy who has lost his father and seems to have emotional issues of some sort. His mother Saori (Sakura Andō) grows suspicious of her son’s strange behavior and when she finally confronts him, he reluctantly admits that he’s being abused by his teacher, Mr. Hori (Eita Nagayama). Saori complains to the school about her son’s abuse and is outraged when Mr. Hori suggests that Minato isn’t a victim at all, but has in fact been bullying another student, a social outcast named Yori (Hinata Hiiragi).

To say anything more would spoil the film, as the story keeps you questioning who’s telling the truth and what’s really going on until the very end. Perhaps the real monster is the audience, as we’re quick to judge the characters and form conclusions about what’s happening before we really know the motivation behind their actions. Wonderfully acted and backed by a gorgeous piano score from the legendary Ryuichi Sakamoto (his final film credit), Monster is a quietly devastating, deeply human film with a haunting conclusion that lingered in my thoughts for days.

Album of the Year

Animal Collective – Isn’t It Now?

After tiding us over with the remotely-recorded Time Skiffs (released in February of last year), Animal Collective are back with their longest studio album to date, finally releasing the remainder of the new songs they’ve been playing live since 2019 and bringing this pandemic-marred era to a close. Even with the far-from-ideal recording process, Time Skiffs turned out great and felt like the group’s strongest effort in a while. But as much as I loved that record, Isn’t It Now? absolutely blows it out of the water.

The hour-plus journey begins with “Soul Capturer,” a warm hug of an opener that slowly lulls the listener into a deep trance with its repetitive rhythms and flawless harmonies, climaxing with a mind-blowing transition that makes me feel like I’m slipping through a portal into another universe. On the other side of the portal is “Genie’s Open,” a subtle and mysterious epic that dazzles the listener with gorgeous vocals and a complex structure that takes you through a variety of moods, finishing with a bouncy tropical jam that never fails to put a smile on my face.

After two longer tracks, “Broke Zodiac” offers a perfect breather with its surprisingly simple construction, building to a sugary hook that will have you instantly humming along. From here, things cross back into epic territory with the nearly-ten-minute “Magicians From Baltimore,” an absolute stunner of a track that evolves from a spacey, ambient intro laden with effects to a head-banging psych-rock jam, complete with soaring harmonies, wailing guitar riffs, and a honky-tonk piano solo.

Up next is the album’s 22-minute centerpiece, “Defeat,” a true epic in every sense of the word. Consisting of two long, slow sections with a short, upbeat interlude in the middle, it feels like a mini-album of its own, taking the listener on a sonic journey that reaches a breathtaking crescendo. The emotional power of this song is nothing less than staggering, to the point I have to take a deep breath when it’s over – even after dozens of listens, I still find myself getting chills and tearing up nearly every time. I don’t think it’s hyperbole to say that it’s among the most brilliant and affecting pieces of music I’ve ever heard in my life.

Moving into the final stretch of the record, “Gem and I” provides a much-needed pick-me-up after the emotional odyssey of “Defeat,” with its jaunty rhythms and addictive chorus delivering an instant serotonin boost. “Stride Rite” slows things down again with raw, earnest vocals over a lovely piano riff backed with jazzy percussion.

“All The Clubs Are Broken” is a short loop that feels like a barbershop quartet on acid, complete with hand claps and doo-wop backing vocals. Though it may feel out of place to some listeners, I think the jarring effect of the track is intentional, acting as a warning that it’s almost time to leave the vast musical universe of the album and return to reality.

As you reckon with these thoughts and the accompanying sadness of realizing the journey is coming to an end, “King’s Walk” closes the album on a transcendent note with goosebump-inducing three-part harmonies over a backdrop of eye-popping sound effects and acoustic guitar strums. The final lyric of the record perfectly expresses the primal terror of living in the modern world while retaining a spirit of optimism: “This old world is almost getting cooked, this old world is tougher than it looks.”

How many bands continue to experiment with their sound and try new things over twenty years into their career? The answer is very few, and I would argue that no group has done it as successfully as Animal Collective. Every member feels at the peak of their powers here, with this collection of songs allowing each of them to shine individually while simultaneously showcasing their unparalleled chemistry. Given the chance to all record together in person for the first time in over a decade, the sense of love and gratitude on this album is palpable.

Though they’ve reached the age when many bands start winding down, content to coast on old songs and fan nostalgia, Animal Collective feel like a group that’s still restlessly exploring the limits of their capabilities. After a relatively slow decade that saw each member more focused on solo releases and side projects, Isn’t It Now? offers a resounding reminder that this band hasn’t lost a step at all – and they aren’t anywhere close to being finished yet.

(remaining albums are listed alphabetically by artist)

Alan Palomo – World Of Hassle

Alan Palomo (better known as chillwave pioneer Neon Indian) hadn’t released a new album in eight years, a long enough gap that longtime fans like me worried he might be gone for good. Thankfully, he made a glorious and triumphant return this year with World of Hassle, the first record he’s released under his real name and his most accomplished work to date. With its combination of irresistible hooks, danceable rhythms, and flawless production, all filtered through Palomo’s lovably idiosyncratic personality, this is an immensely gratifying listening experience that offers a little bit of something for everyone.

Opening track “The Wailing Mall” kicks things off with a sound palette that somehow feels both retro and modern at the same time, blending seductive saxophone passages with melodic synth pads and booming bongos as Palomo weaves an amusing tale from a childhood memory of being lost in the mall. “Meutrière” makes me feel like I’m in a classic European spy thriller, with its club-ready beat offering a perfect backdrop for guest vocalist Flore Benguigui to serenade the listener in French.

Continuing the multicultural vibes, “La Madrileña” and “Nudista Mundial ’89” are both absolute bangers that feature Palomo singing in Spanish for the first time in his career. From there, the mood shifts to disco-jazz fusion with “The Return of Mickey Milan,” “Stay-At-Home-DJ,” and “Club People,” all of which offer unforgettable hooks and rhythms that may lead you to discover new dance moves you didn’t even know you were capable of.

Palomo gives his listeners a much-needed breather with “Alibi For Petra,” a laid-back instrumental interlude that transitions seamlessly into “Nobody’s Woman,” a dub-inspired jam that gives new meaning to the word smooth. “Is There Nightlife After Death?” is a slow, sax-heavy groove that finds Palomo questioning the existence of party culture in the afterlife, while he uses “Big Night of Heartache” to transform a painful memory of romantic rejection into humorous, self-deprecating lyrics sung over alluring keyboard washes punctuated with trippy, pitch-shifted vocal samples.

“The Island Years” begins with the gentle sound of ocean waves before launching into a tropical beach bop in which Palomo invites a lover to escape with him into sexual bliss and live out the rest of their days in paradise. Just as the track feels like it’s peaking with a crescendo of synths, flute, and percussion, it suddenly cuts out, giving the impression that perhaps this has all been just an elaborate romantic fantasy and now reality has crashed the party.

The sound of the ocean carries the listener along into “Trouble in Mind,” a short instrumental outro that brings the album full circle and ends the experience with an exclamation point. While I sincerely hope Palomo never goes eight years without releasing music again, the long wait was well worth it for a masterwork like this.

Avey Tare – 7s

Released almost ten months ago, this fourth full-length solo effort from Animal Collective frontman Avey Tare has remained in my top five all year long. While I don’t think it quite measures up to his best albums (Down There, Eucalyptus), it’s another brain-melting journey that takes the listener through a whirlwind of sonic universes, with each of the record’s seven tracks standing on its own as a crowning achievement.

Opener “Invisible Darlings” finds Avey at his most unabashedly sentimental, with beautiful lyrics that alternately thank and comfort the listener, his unmistakable voice morphed through swampy effects over an outrageously catchy piano loop. “Lips At Night” is a wistful love song built on acoustic guitar strums accented with unusual percussion, such as the sound of a baseball thumping into a catcher’s mitt. “The Musical” is a song about the love of music itself, featuring Avey waxing poetic about what drew him to become a musician in the first place as layers of guitar, bass, keyboards, and drums build to a stunning crescendo.

As good as the first three tracks are, the second half of the album is even better. “Hey Bog”, the record’s nearly ten-minute centerpiece, feels like a perfect example of everything Avey does well, swirling layers of textures and melodies together into a psychedelic stew that invites you to sink in and melt away. The end of the song flows right into “Sweeper’s Grin,” another long track that disorients the listener with a hypnotic structure that seems to keep building upon itself.

Yet another seamless transition brings the album to “Neurons,” an explosion of sound with an addictive hook that features Avey playing the Kalimba (a small, wooden piano originating from Africa that’s played with your thumbs). Finally, “Cloud Stop Rest Start” ends the album on a haunting note, with Avey’s tender vocals reassuring the listener as a restlessly droning synth seems to signal imminent doom. Overall, 7s is the most sonically diverse record to date from one of the most unique and talented musicians on the planet – don’t sleep on it.

George Clanton – Ooh Rap I Ya

George Clanton has been making music under a variety of aliases for over a decade now, but his popularity has increased significantly over the last few years, with many listeners such as myself stumbling across his unique brand of hypnagogic pop and quickly becoming fans. The charmingly-titled Ooh Rap I Ya is his first album in five years and finds the singer/songwriter/producer pushing his signature sound in a more psychedelic direction.

Tracks such as “Vapor King/SubReal” and “You Hold The Key And I Found It” eschew traditional song structures, entrancing the listener with glossy synth textures, bouncy percussion, and abstract vocal hooks that are practically dripping in reverb. For listeners who find these songs too spacey, there are more accessible tracks spread throughout the record, most notably “I Been Young,” which features possibly the most anthemic hook that Clanton has written to date.

Every track here is enjoyable, but it’s the final two songs that really solidify this record among the year’s best. “Ooh Rap I Ya” features arguably Clanton’s best vocal performance, building up to a rhythmic chant that explains the album’s enigmatic title over an explosive, head-bopping beat. Finally, closing track “For You, I Will” ends the listening experience on a triumphant high, with ethereal guest vocals from Australian musician Hatchie mixing seamlessly into a shoegaze-meets-vaporwave symphony that makes me feel like I’m soaring through the air.

Lavarr The Star – Illusions Ago

Ishmael “Ish” Butler is, without a doubt, my favorite rapper alive. After establishing himself in the 90’s with Digable Planets, he reinvented his sound over the last decade-plus as Shabazz Palaces with instant classics such as Black Up and Lese Majesty. Now, he’s back with yet another alter-ego that finds him singing more than rapping, often with heavy effects on his voice. I wasn’t sure what to expect from this project, but as it turns out, Illusions Ago is my favorite new release from him in a while.

The record is short but sweet, taking the listener on a half-hour journey that will leave you eager to dive right back in. Opening track “Luxury Us Love” establishes the mood beautifully, with auto-tuned vocal harmonies swimming in layers of sci-fi synths and bass tones that are sure to rattle the walls when played through a good speaker system.

Other highlights include “Mind Glow Rodeo,” showcasing Ish’s buttery-smooth flow and knack for iconic one-liners over a woozy beat that eventually explodes into disco-funk ecstasy; “Real Frenz,” a heartfelt tribute to the people you can count on in your life with a killer hook; and “Glass Top Roof (The One),” a bass-heavy romantic ballad that feels like the sonic equivalent of a lover’s embrace. Whether he continues to use this alias or not, I’ll always look forward to whatever Ish is working on.

ML Buch – Suntub

ML Buch is a Danish singer/composer/producer whose music defies easy description, existing in the same realm as shoegaze and dream pop but performed in a unique style that feels fresh and original. Suntub is a massive leap forward from her previous work, with its intricately crafted melodies and lush production immersing the listener completely in its world.

Opening track “Pan Over the Hill” sets the tone for the experience perfectly, its whooshing synths and moody guitar tones swirling together into a dreamy haze with Buch’s airy, reverb-drenched vocals soaring over the top. The lyrics evoke memories of relaxing outside on a golden sun-kissed afternoon, with the sights and sounds of nature coming to life around you. Adding to this impression is the album’s unique recording process, which involved Buch performing her vocals in various cars while driving along the Danish coast.

A double LP running nearly an hour in length, Suntub is a grower that takes its time to achieve full impact. After my first listen, I wasn’t particularly impressed, but I found myself returning to the album again and again. The vocals are soothing, the imagery is serene, and the production is top-notch. Perhaps most impressive of all, Buch builds the foundation of her record around an overused instrument (the electric guitar) and makes it sound exciting again. Suntub will be a difficult act to follow, but I can’t wait to see what she does next.

Mndsgn – Snaxxx

Mndsgn is one of the most skilled producers working today, shifting between J Dilla-esque beat collages and more traditional R&B music that showcases his soothing vocals. On Snaxxx, the final and best installment of a trilogy that began in 2018, he blends it all together into a psychedelic swirl that offers a little bit of everything I love about his music.

With a runtime just under 30 minutes, Snaxxx doesn’t allow any melody or idea to overstay its welcome, gently guiding the listener from track to track with smooth transitions. It has the loose feel of a beat tape, but also incorporates lots of vocal hooks and features some of the musician’s best songwriting to date. Whether you’re bumping it in the car, listening on headphones, or blasting it with friends, Snaxxx provides an instant mood lift that will leave you hungry for more.

Neggy Gemmy – CBD Reiki Moonbeam

After establishing herself as Negative Gemini, singer/songwriter/producer Lindsey Elise French has shortened her alias to Neggy Gemmy for this album – a name that feels more fitting of her eye-catching fashion style and cartoonish pop star persona. More importantly, CBD Reiki Moonbeam is easily her best work to date, a breakthrough album that’s bursting at the seams with catchy hooks, colorful production, and sheer charisma.

The record impressively manages to cycle through a variety of moods while remaining cohesive from start to finish. Opening track “California” sets the tone with its nostalgic synth tones, booming sub-bass, and dreamy vocals. It’s immediately followed by “Black Ferrari,” the first of several bangers that will have you up and moving, along with “Beep Beep,” “Daydream,” the Sarah Bonito-featuring “Gemmy Juice,” and closer “On The Floor.”

While there are one or two tracks on this album that I find weaker than the rest, it’s a propulsive, memorable, and just plain fun experience overall. With this record, Neggy Gemmy has improved every aspect of her sound and taken a huge leap forward, establishing herself as one of the more promising emerging artists right now.

Oneohtrix Point Never – Again

Oneohtrix Point Never is one of my favorite musicians, but I have to say I felt a bit underwhelmed by his last two efforts. Thankfully, Again is a triumphant return to form that digs back through his large discography to re-explore the many sounds that made me fall in love with his music in the first place.

This isn’t his most unique or cohesive effort, with most of the album reminding you of previous things he’s done and none of the tracks seeming to connect to each other in any sort of meaningful way. This is my one complaint about the record that leaves it just short of reaching masterpiece status for me – with thirteen borderline structureless tracks that feature a multitude of starts and stops and run nearly an hour combined, it’s a bit of an exhausting listen.

However, this feels like nitpicking considering how incredible nearly every song on here is individually. The title track mesmerizes with its glitchy vocal samples pitching up and down over a wall of siren-like synths that suck the listener down into a bottomless rabbit hole. “Locrian Midwest” conjures powerful swells of emotion and nostalgia with its arpeggiated chords tinged with lush textures, while “Plastic Antique” jars the listener with unpredictably shifting rhythms before dissolving into a massive sea of swelling synths, one of the most gorgeous and awe-inspiring moments in his entire discography.

Other highlights include “Gray Subviolet,” with its overwhelming blend of strings, piano, and choral vocals that merge together into a glorious cacophony, and “Memories of Music,” an electro-prog jam that evokes what the band Yes might sound like if they were active today and utilized modern production methods. Closing track “A Barely Lit Path” ends things on a fittingly epic note, running back through all the sounds of the record in what feels like a well-earned victory lap for one of the most accomplished composers making music today.

Tim Hecker – No Highs

Tim Hecker is a model of consistency – all of the ambient drone master’s records offer an intoxicating experience, pulling the listener deep into a meditative trance with subtle melodies and textures that seem to emerge directly from the subconscious. On No Highs, he incorporates horns for the first time in his discography (including a guest appearance by Colin Stetson), adding a dynamic new layer to his singular ocean of sound.

Coming on the heels of three consecutive masterworks (Virgins, Love Steams, and Konoyo), this album doesn’t quite reach the same level. The transitions between tracks aren’t his smoothest and the sound palette doesn’t feel as unique as those recent triumphs. Still, tracks like “Monotony,” “Lotus Light,” and “Living Spa Water” are mesmerizing soundscapes, offering a potent reminder that no one else can do what Hecker does.

10. The Whale (Darren Aronofsky)

Easily the biggest tear-jerker of 2022, The Whale is a somewhat shallow and one-note film – but it’s also a morbidly compelling and emotionally moving watch that’s designed to function as a test of the audience’s empathy. The story centers on Charlie (Brendan Fraser), a man who is so obese that he can’t even stand up and move around without assistance. He stays isolated in his dingy apartment, teaching college writing courses online while lying that his camera is broken in order to keep his appearance hidden from the students.

Charlie has been binge-eating himself to death since the loss of his partner, a man he loved so much that he left his own wife and young daughter to be with him. His only friend is Liz (Hong Chau), a nurse who cares deeply for Charlie to the point that she can’t decide whether to yell at him or comfort him. When Charlie’s blood pressure rises to a level that signals imminent death, he attempts to reconcile with the daughter he abandoned (Sadie Sink) before it’s too late.

Those are the broad strokes of the plot, but Samuel D. Hunter’s script (adapted from his own stage play) does a good job of slowly layering details to fill in the spaces of these characters’ lives – even if some of the connections and conversations between them feel overly theatrical and contrived. Darren Aronofsky’s direction is unusually subtle and restrained by his lofty standards, but no less effective. In a nearly two-hour movie that all takes place in one apartment with just five characters appearing, he maximizes the claustrophobic atmosphere without ever letting the momentum of the film stall.

Brendan Fraser delivers by far the best performance of his career, a devastating tour-de-force that most people probably didn’t think he had in him (I’ll admit that I certainly didn’t). Buried under layers of prosthetics, he never loses sight of the character’s humanity, sometimes carrying entire scenes with just his eyes and facial expressions. Without a doubt, he deserves to win an Oscar for this role. Hong Chau and Sadie Sink are also excellent as the two most important people in Charlie’s life.

Aronofsky is one of my favorite filmmakers and while this is far from his best work, he’s delivered yet another memorable experience with The Whale. The magic trick of this movie is that it portrays a character so outwardly repulsive, your natural instinct is to turn away – but by forcing you to spend time with that character and see life through his eyes, the beauty of the person underneath is gradually revealed.

9. Men (Alex Garland)

Men was one of the more divisive movies this year, turning many viewers off with its inflammatory subject matter and head-scratching conclusion. Count me among the film’s limited admirers – though the script is frustratingly obtuse at times, the technical craftsmanship on display is impeccable and I was riveted from beginning to end.

Jessie Buckley is terrific as Harper, a young woman who carries deep scars from a previous relationship with a mentally ill man that ended with him committing suicide right in front of her. In an attempt to get out of her own head, Harper retreats to an isolated rental home in the English countryside, but soon finds herself being stalked by a variety of creepy men who all seem to be subtly gaslighting her. Harper is the only woman around, surrounded by men who all want something from her – so who’s going to believe her when she says she’s in danger?

In a brilliant touch, Rory Kinnear plays all of the men stalking Harper. At one point, his face is even superimposed over a child’s body to unnerving effect. He does an excellent job imbuing all the different characters with distinct personalities, ensuring that each role stands on its own. The outstanding performances from Kinnear and Buckley, along with the striking cinematography and haunting score, are enough to make the film worthwhile on their own.

Though the script does an admirable job of exploring interesting questions and themes, the ending of this movie is baffling, to say the least. I left the film confused and a little frustrated by its conclusion. Yet, at the same time, I continued to think about Men long after it was over and certain images from the film have remained lodged in my brain. To me, that’s the sign of a successful movie, even if I wish it ended on a stronger note.

8. The Menu (Mark Mylod)

I didn’t expect to enjoy this movie nearly as much as I did. The Menu is yet another in a long line of recent films that skewer the wealthy and I couldn’t help but worry that it would be too safe and predictable, content to coast on easy jokes about the uber-rich without offering memorable characters or genuine suspense. I was wrong, as The Menu is one of the most sharply-written and purely entertaining movies I saw last year.

The film makes the most of a simple setup, stranding a bunch of pretentious elites on an exclusive dining cruise where the renowned chef (Ralph Fiennes) has decided that he’s had enough of serving these soulless bores. But a wrinkle is thrown into his meticulous plan by the unexpected presence of Margot (Anya Taylor-Joy), a mysterious passenger who doesn’t seem to fit in with the rest of the guest list. What starts as a social satire gradually evolves into a thriller, though the movie’s primary weapon remains humor from beginning to end.

Fiennes’ performance is nothing short of outstanding, turning a role that could’ve been a laughable caricature into an unforgettable villain who toes the line between hilarious and chilling. Taylor-Joy is the perfect counterpart, strong and feisty enough to stand up to the chef, but also vulnerable and relatable enough to make the audience root for her.

It’s true that the commentary on wealth and privilege is mostly surface-level stuff that we’ve heard before, but that’s okay – the main goal of this movie isn’t to make a thoughtful political statement. Instead, The Menu accomplishes the arguably even more difficult goal of injecting relevant, provocative commentary into a fun, crowd-pleasing thriller, offering a little bit of something for everyone.

7. The Sadness (Rob Jabbaz)

One of the most shockingly brutal, unrelentingly intense, and downright sickening horror films I’ve ever seen, it would be an understatement to say that The Sadness is not an easy watch. Set in Taiwan, the story focuses on the sudden emergence of a new virus that causes the scientific community to sound the alarm, while the government does nothing and the general population fails to take it seriously. Early in the film, characters shrug off ominous news reports, insisting that the virus is a hoax or part of some large conspiracy theory.

Obviously, this subject matter feels all too relevant, no matter what part of the world you’re living in. But unlike COVID-19, the virus in this movie doesn’t make people sick or die – it shuts down the part of their brain that governs aggression with reason, leading those who get it to lose all traces of decency and self-control. They essentially become feral animals, raping, killing, and mutilating any victims unfortunate enough to cross their path.

As the virus spreads, the city turns into a full-on battlefield, with nowhere safe to hide. In the midst of this chaos, two lovers desperately try to survive and make their way to one another before it’s too late. It’s a simple but effective premise, with the script offering just enough development to make us care about the main characters and feel invested in their survival. But after a quick setup, it’s nothing but balls-to-the-wall mania, keeping you pinned to the edge of your seat all the way through the gut-wrenching climax.

Please be advised, this movie is not for the faint of heart. The gore is jaw-droppingly graphic at times, while the scenes of cruel sexual violence and abuse will offend or upset many viewers. But if you’re like me and find most modern horror films to be too safe and predictable, this is the batshit crazy bloodfest you’ve been waiting for.

6. X and Pearl (Ti West)

I know I’m cheating a bit by having two films share one spot, but the viewing experiences of X and Pearl are so inextricably linked to one another that it feels impossible to evaluate them separately. Filming and releasing two wildly different but thematically connected horror films back to back in the same year, writer/director/editor Ti West took a big swing that ended up paying dividends.

Set in 1979, X is a loving homage to 70’s grindhouse exploitation cinema, especially Tobe Hooper’s masterpiece The Texas Chain Saw Massacre. It follows a group of ambitious young people who set out to make a porn movie, planning to film it secretly in an isolated barn on the property of an old couple who have no idea what their guests are up to. Naturally, their hidden agenda is discovered by Pearl (the elderly woman), and to say that complications ensue from there would be an understatement. West takes his time getting to the climax, building tension slowly and methodically before finally letting things explode in a symphony of carefully choreographed bloodshed.

A massive departure from its predecessor, Pearl backtracks all the way to 1918, showing us how a beautiful young woman with dreams of stardom devolved into the sad, decrepit killer we meet in X. By showing us how Pearl is smothered and denied happiness, living on an isolated farm with her cruel mother and infirm father while her husband fights in World War 1, the film achieves a very rare thing – it makes us feel empathy for the villain.

Both films are stunning on a technical level, with the gorgeous cinematography and pitch-perfect costumes evoking their respective time periods flawlessly. X really looks and feels like a lost drive-in movie from the 1970s, while Pearl captures the dreamy aesthetic of old Technicolor classics like The Wizard of Oz.

But even more than the intoxicating style, what really sets these films apart is the star-making acting on display from Mia Goth. She pulls double-duty in X, playing cocky young porn star Maxine in addition to the elderly Pearl. Though she demonstrates a commanding screen presence in both roles, it’s her work as young Pearl in the sequel that you won’t be able to shake. Watching her mentally unravel in the climax, including an unbroken nine-minute monologue and a final close-up of her face that lingers through the credits, is absolutely riveting and deeply unsettling.

Taken on their own, these are both solid and memorable horror films that would each be worthy of inclusion on this list. But evaluated together, X and Pearl make for one hell of a double feature – once you’ve watched both, the experiences retroactively enrich and enhance one another, encouraging repeat viewings. West has already announced that he’s developing a third chapter of the story, MaXXXine – I’m not sure if it’s needed, but I know I’ll be at the theater opening night anyway.

5. Decision To Leave (Park Chan-Wook)

The latest work from legendary Korean director Park Chan-Wook, Decision To Leave is a surprisingly low-key film. The shocking violence of Oldboy and lusty eroticism of The Handmaiden are nowhere to be found here. Instead, the movie is a quiet and haunting love story, focusing on a homicide detective (Hae il Park) who becomes gradually drawn to a Chinese immigrant (Tang Wei) as he investigates the suspicious death of her husband.

Naturally, things quickly grow complicated, as our protagonist becomes torn between the legal obligations of his job and his increasingly strong feelings for this mysterious woman who may or may not be dangerous. The film is more of a slow-simmering romance than it is a murder mystery, but the script does contain some nice surprises that keep the viewer guessing as to the characters’ true intentions. It all culminates in a haunting conclusion that stuck with me long after the credits rolled.

Park and Wei give excellent performances as the film’s two leads, effectively conveying the loneliness and desperate sense of longing between their characters. The film also benefits from expert direction and some of the most striking imagery seen on screen this year. Though Decision to Leave isn’t Park Chan-Wook’s best work, it’s a beautifully-shot and well-written piece of classical storytelling, the kind of movie we see all too rarely these days.

4. Terrifier 2 (Damien Leone)

I thoroughly enjoyed 2016’s Terrifier, as well as the 2013 anthology film All Hallows Eve that first introduced audiences to Art the Clown. But nothing could’ve prepared me for the bloody mayhem that writer/director/practical effects master Damien Leone unleashes in Terrifier 2, the most ambitious, entertaining, and unforgettable slasher film I’ve seen in ages.

The first Terrifier was a lean and mean movie that served almost entirely as a showcase for Art the Clown and Leone’s knack for crafting stomach-churning kill scenes. In Terrifier 2, there’s an actual plot and lots of time is spent developing the protagonists so the audience feels genuinely invested in them. This is a refreshing change of pace from the usual slasher formula of focusing on dull, generic characters who the audience won’t miss when they’re inevitably slaughtered.

The story centers on Sienna Shaw (Lauren LaVera), a troubled teenager dealing with emotional issues in the wake of her father’s death. Meanwhile, her younger brother Jonathan (Elliot Fullam) seems a little too fascinated with the details of the massacre that took place in their small town a year ago, and the siblings’ overprotective mother (Sarah Voigt) struggles to hold their dysfunctional family together. Before long, their already-complicated lives unravel into a full-fledged nightmare as Art the Clown returns to Miles County and targets Sienna.

While many viewers will complain about the nearly two and a half hour runtime, the epic length allows Leone to fully flesh out his characters and slowly build an elaborate mythology around Art The Clown. The kill sequences are also thrillingly unrestrained, incorporating brilliant prosthetics and practical effects to achieve some of the most gruesomely gory moments ever shown on screen.

Yet despite all the brutality, Terrifier 2 never fails to be an absolute blast, incorporating plenty of dark humor and a heightened tone that’s rarely seen in modern horror. The epic climactic battle between Sienna and Art is so over-the-top that it feels like you’re watching a supremely messed up superhero movie and is worth the price of admission alone.

Lauren LaVera is terrific as Sienna, a final girl for the ages – I can’t remember the last time I fell in love with a new character/actress so immediately. And once again, David Howard Thornton is brilliant as Art the Clown, solidifying his character as a modern slasher icon who is both hilarious and terrifying, all without making a sound. They’re the perfect stars to bring Leone’s demented vision to life, a vision that feels comfortingly nostalgic and refreshingly new at the same time.

The blood-spattered mania of Terrifier 2 will only appeal to a limited audience, but for hardcore slasher fans, this film is an instant classic. Now, bring on Terrifier 3!

3. RRR (S.S. Rajamouli)

Move over, James Cameron. In a year that was filled with huge blockbuster spectacles, only one of them stuck with me, and it wasn’t the new Avatar. That honor belongs to S.S. Rajamouli’s RRR, a Telugu-language film from India that is truly epic in every sense of the word. Over the course of its three-hour runtime, RRR relentlessly jolts the audience with massive action setpieces and infectiously exuberant song-and-dance numbers, injected into a narrative that’s equal parts mythical fable, tender bromance, and rousing anti-colonialism statement.

If that sounds like a lot of movie, it is – in fact, what primarily makes RRR such a thrilling experience is the sheer largeness of it all. It arguably runs a bit longer than it needs to, but the film is never dull for even a moment. The action is thrilling, the acting is solid, and the story is filled with heart. This is the kind of movie that feels constantly in danger of tipping over the edge into self-parody, but the passion and sincerity of everyone involved somehow manages to hold it all together. As a bonus, the musical numbers are incredible and that’s coming from a person who typically loathes musicals.

More than just a movie, RRR is an experience, one that’s best enjoyed with a group so you can all laugh, dance, and cheer together. Is it absurdly over-the-top to the point of being cheesy at times? Absolutely, but that’s part of the charm. Rajamouli never makes the mistake of taking himself too seriously, ensuring that RRR is a blast from beginning to end. So round up your closest friends, find the biggest screen you can, and get ready to Rise, Roar, Revolt.

2. Everything Everywhere All At Once (Daniel Kwan & Daniel Scheinert)

When I saw this movie in theaters all the way back in March, I knew that it would be tough to top. And while 2022 turned out to be a strong year with some excellent competition, my prediction that this film would remain at or near the top of my list proved correct. Rarely have I seen a movie that makes me laugh and cry in equal measure, but this mind-bendingly original creation from the Daniels (Daniel Kwan and Daniel Scheinert) manages to achieve exactly that.

The story focuses on Evelyn Wang (Michelle Yeoh), a Chinese immigrant who disappointed her father (James Hong) by marrying the sweet but bumbling Waymond (Ke Huy Quan) and moving to America. At the start of the film, Evelyn is trying to hold her struggling Laundromat business together in the midst of an IRS audit and organize a party for her visiting father. Meanwhile, her marriage with Waymond is falling apart and her relationship with her daughter Joy (Stephanie Hsu) is even worse.

In the midst of this stressful and chaotic time in her life, Evelyn finds herself sucked into an inter-dimensional battle that threatens the fate of every reality in the infinite multiverse. As a middle-aged woman who has achieved none of the goals she set for herself in life, Evelyn will have to harness every forgotten talent and unrealized ambition in her arsenal to become the best version of herself and save the world from irreversible destruction.

If you’re like me, that plot synopsis may leave you feeling skeptical. After all, haven’t we had more than enough of this multiverse stuff in recent years? Rest assured, you can brush any doubts aside as Everything Everywhere All At Once makes Marvel movies look like child’s play. The perfect blend of art and spectacle, this is the rare film that works both as an exhilarating roller coaster ride as well as an emotionally resonant, thought-provoking story with fully-fleshed out characters and relatable themes.

The cast is terrific from top to bottom, with Yeoh and Quan especially delivering award-worthy performances and Jamie Lee Curtis stealing every scene she’s in as a ruthless IRS agent. The film is also immaculate on a technical level, as everything from the costumes to the production design to the editing feels carefully considered and masterfully executed. The script is among the most original and entertaining of any film in recent memory, while Kwan and Scheinert’s direction somehow manages to hold all of this chaos together with not a moment feeling wasted or out of place.

There’s a lot more I could say about this film, but I don’t want to spoil any fun surprises. Just know that you’ve never seen anything quite like it in your life, even if you think you have based on the plot description. An absurdist comedy, an ambitious sci-fi spectacle, a martial arts action extravaganza, a tender saga of a broken family, and a poignant rumination on the meaning of existence – this wonderful movie somehow manages to be all of these things, all at once.

1. Bardo, False Chronicle of a Handful of Truths (Alejandro Gonzalez Iñárritu)

The latest film from Alejandro Gonzalez Iñárritu features, among other things, a man attempting to fly, a flood on a Los Angeles Metro car, a dramatic recreation of the Battle of Chapultepec, and a baby refusing to emerge from his mother’s womb because “the world is too fucked up” – and that’s all just in the first twenty minutes.

Sadly dismissed by most critics as overlong and pretentious, Bardo is a challenging and richly layered allegory of a film that finds its acclaimed director interrogating himself with unflinching honesty in an attempt to reckon with his own legacy. The plot rebels against any sort of traditional structure, transcending the chronology of time and even the laws of physics to recount the emotional odyssey of Silverio Gama (Daniel Giménez Cacho), a Mexican journalist turned documentary filmmaker who’s selected to receive a prestigious American journalism award in Los Angeles.

Silverio suffers from impostor syndrome and crippling self-doubt, the type of artist who strives to gain respect and recognition only to immediately withdraw the moment he receives it. Having left his native Mexico for the United States many years ago to escape artistic censorship, he’s now a man without a country – never accepted as a true American, yet at the same time “too gringo” to fit in with his friends and family back home. Often, he seems unsure whether to champion his home country for its rich culture or criticize it for its many shortcomings.

In this way, Silverio lacks a definitive identity, trapped between the conflicting narratives of how he sees himself and the person that everyone wants or imagines him to be. He’s the ultimate tortured artist, driven and possessed by the need to create, but unable to silence the nagging inner voice that tells him nothing he’s doing really matters. Cacho does a great job of bringing this conflicted protagonist to life, while Griselda Sicilliani, Ximena Lamadrid, and Iker Sanchez Solano all deliver strong supporting work as Silverio’s wife and children.

Iñárritu has demonstrated an exceptional command of craft throughout his illustrious filmography, but this may be his best work to date. If nothing else, Bardo is the most visually stunning film experience of 2022, every shot a masterful composition that deserves to be framed. The set design, sound work, editing, and music are all top-notch as well.

It’s hard to talk much about the plot of this movie without spoiling the journey, but despite what detractors may say, it does all make sense in the end – just don’t expect Iñárritu to spoon-feed you the meaning. If you’re looking for a simple, easy-to-digest narrative, Bardo is not the movie for you. But if you’re open to an unforgettable cinematic experience unlike anything you’ve seen before, this film will take hold of your imagination and never let go.

Album of the Year

Merely – Sculpture

It’s very rare that I discover a musician and immediately become a diehard fan, but that’s exactly what happened with Merely. A Swedish singer/songwriter/producer who never stops exploring and reinventing her sound, Merely’s discography encompasses a wide variety of moods while managing to remain remarkably consistent. Sculpture, her fourth full-length album, is the artist’s most ambitious and refined work to date, highlighting everything she does well in one cohesive listening experience.

As always, Merely’s vocals are stunning from start to finish. She is a singer in complete command of her voice, conveying bottomless depths of emotion in every note and harmonizing with herself to awe-inspiring effect. Her songwriting is equally impressive – every track features infectious melodies and tremendous lyrics, filled with poetic imagery and aching authenticity that resonates with me on a deep level.

Co-produced with longtime collaborator Cotton Mouth, and with additional production by Malibu on two tracks, Sculpture is a marvel of sonic clarity and sensory immersion in which every sound is perfectly placed. There are always so many details to focus on, rich textures and subtle vocal layers that only reveal themselves with repeat listens.

I truly don’t have a single negative thing to say about this album. The vocals are gorgeous, the songwriting and production are immaculate, and the track list flows perfectly from top to bottom. It all culminates in “Book of Hours,” a ten-minute stunner of a closer that is so hypnotically mesmerizing and transcendently moving that the song feels like life itself by the time you reach the end of it. With Sculpture, Merely has created a masterpiece and solidified her place in the top tier of my favorite musicians.

(remaining albums are listed alphabetically by artist)

Animal Collective – Time Skiffs

Time Skiffs is the first Animal Collective record to feature all four members since 2012’s Centipede Hz, a shocking ten years ago. It’s also the best album they’ve released since then, making up for what it lacks in wild experimentation with some of the band’s most clear and concise songwriting to date. Tracks like “Prester John,” “We Go Back,” and “Royal and Desire” would be an excellent place to start for new listeners, unusually accessible by Animal Collective’s standards but still sounding like no one else.

The album was recorded remotely during the pandemic, but you’d never know these four guys weren’t in the same room with each other. The chemistry and bond that makes their music so special is felt in abundance, while the production arguably sounds closer to the group’s live sound than any of their previous releases. I saw most of these songs performed at Desert Daze all the way back in 2019 and was thrilled to finally hear them recorded after the band had to wait for so long.

Animal Collective have such a large and diverse discography that it’s virtually impossible for them to please everyone. There are always going to be some fans who want them to repeat what they’ve done in the past, rather than continuing to experiment and embrace new sounds. But that’s not Animal Collective’s style and they have no interest in catering to fans who only like the old stuff – with this band, you’re either along for the ride or you aren’t. Having said that, if you can’t find something to love in the stirring vocal harmonies, intricate rhythms, and brain-tickling textures of Time Skiffs, then it’s hard to imagine how you ever became a fan in the first place.

Bjork – Fossora

It’s been a long five-year wait since Bjork’s last album (2017’s Utopia), but any amount of time would’ve been worth it for an album this good. From its opening note to its last, Fossora is a stunning experience that delivers a little bit of everything I love about her music.

You want pulse-pounding beats? Check. How about lavish orchestral arrangements? Yep, plenty of those too. You want chill-inducing vocal performances and raw, unfiltered emotion? This is Bjork we’re talking about, so of course there’s plenty of that. There’s also incredible production and mixing that allows every sound to come through in perfect clarity, with special attention paid to the low end. Whether you blast it through speakers or headphones, Fossora is a total-immersion experience.

The album is also deeply moving, incorporating universal themes of love, loss, and family. The record’s centerpiece, “Ancestress,” finds Bjork harmonizing with her son to pay tribute to her late mother while closing track “Her Mother’s House” is a stunning duet with her daughter. Best of all is “Allow,” one of the most stirringly beautiful pieces of music I’ve ever heard – seriously, just try listening to that song without getting goosebumps.

Fossora is far from Bjork’s most cohesive record, with some moments that feel a bit out of place or jarring within the context of the track list. Despite this, the peaks of the album reach such extraordinary heights that I would still rank it among her finer efforts. Nearly thirty years after the release of her seminal Debut, Fossora offers a potent reminder that this legendary artist will never stop experimenting and pushing her music forward into uncharted sonic territory.

Domi & JD Beck – Not Tight

Keyboardist Domi Louna and drummer JD Beck are both absurdly talented musicians. They may look like they’re still in high school, but don’t be deceived – these two have the kind of chops that most veterans could never achieve even with decades of practice. To watch the two of them jam on stage can only be described as euphoric.

On their first album, the duo keep their jamming to a minimum, focusing on compact songs that often incorporate vocal hooks. As a result, the record doesn’t quite capture the excitement of their live shows. However, it’s still a work of dizzying musicianship that’s enhanced by a stacked list of guest stars.

Thundercat adds a smoldering bass solo to the title track, while Herbie Hancock lends his legendary presence to album highpoint “Moon.” Other guests include Anderson .Paak, Mac Demarco, Kurt Rosenwinkel, Busta Rhymes, and Snoop Dogg. With that kind of support, the future looks very bright for these two young and incredibly skilled musicians.

Elusin – Synfuels

The debut record from Norwegian singer, multi-instrumentalist, and producer Elusin, Synfuels arrives as a fully-formed sound. Mixing elements of shoegaze and noise rock with synth-pop and electronica, it’s an album that keeps you guessing by cycling through a variety of moods over the course of its brief thirty-minute runtime.

“Locked and Loaded” lulls the listener into a meditative trance with its abrasive bursts of distorted guitar punctuated by wispy, fairy-like vocals filtered through walls of effects. Just when you’ve settled into that vibe, “The Hymn of the Mountain Priestess” jars you out of it with its siren-like synths, booming sub-bass, and irresistible vocal hooks sung in Norwegian. As if that weren’t enough, the title track adds swelling strings and ambient textures to the mix, while closer “Heartlocket” ends the experience on a gentle note with bright, melodic guitar tones and raw, heartfelt vocals.

After such a stellar debut, expectations will inevitably be high for the follow-up record. Though Synfuels won’t be easy to top, I’m excited to see how Elusin develops her sound and establishes her musical identity going forward.

Malibu – Palaces Of Pity

The second release from French singer/composer/producer Malibu (who also releases music as Belmont Girl and DJ Lostboi), Palaces of Pity is as beautiful and majestic as music gets. Inspired by the ceaseless ebb and flow of the ocean’s tides, Malibu’s music similarly washes over you in a way that feels both calming and overwhelming at once. Each track is built on endless layers of droning synths, swelling strings, and pulsing sub-bass, with her unfathomably angelic vocals soaring over the top.

This is the kind of music that can move a person to tears – it certainly has achieved that effect on me. There’s an emotional quality to the release that feels universal, like Malibu is tapping into all of our collectively shared grief and providing the perfect vessel to let it all out. But even though it’s tinged with sadness, Palaces of Pity is also a blissful and life-affirming record that provides a cathartic healing experience for the listener.

I just wish it was a bit longer – with a brief runtime of 25 minutes, it inevitably leaves me wanting more. On the other hand, the short length has ensured that I listen to it over and over again, marveling each time that the music never loses even a shred of its awe-inspiring power. After this stunning breakthrough, I can’t even begin to imagine what Malibu will do next – but I know that I can’t wait to find out.

Panda Bear & Sonic Boom – Reset

This isn’t the first time that Animal Collective’s Panda Bear and Spacemen 3’s Sonic Boom have worked together, but it’s the first time they’ve released an official collaboration record. Thankfully, it doesn’t disappoint in the slightest, as Reset finds both of these modern psychedelic legends in top form, delivering an album that’s sure to please hardcore fans of both musicians.

The tracks are built primarily around looped samples from old soul and doo-wop songs, such as The Everly Brothers’ “Love Of My Life” and The Drifters’ “Save The Last Dance For Me.” This lends the record a sense of comforting nostalgia, immersing the listener in a mood of reflecting on simpler, happier times. These loops also offer the perfect backdrop for Panda Bear’s signature golden harmonies, with his unmistakable voice gently guiding the listener through each track.

This isn’t a Panda Bear solo record, though. In addition to creating the loops that serve as the foundation of the album, Sonic Boom also sings with Panda on several tracks and even takes the lead on a few. It feels like a true collaboration, with both musicians making their stamp and contributing equally to the finished product. If your eyes don’t pop out of your head listening to the soaring harmonies of “In My Body” or the head-spinning vocal hocketing on “Danger,” you might want to double-check that your ears still work.

Shintaro Sakamoto – Like a Fable

The fourth solo album from Shintaro Sakamoto delivers more of the experimental lounge-pop that fans have come to expect from him. Perhaps because his lyrics are all sung in Japanese, the singer/songwriter/multi-instrumentalist doesn’t have a very large following in the US. That’s a shame, since Sakamoto consistently delivers quality records and Like a Fable is no exception.

From the distorted trombone stabs of the opener to the sugary backing vocals on the title track, this is an album filled with subtle hooks that will slowly lodge in your brain. Sakamoto incorporates a diverse sound palette throughout featuring lap-steel guitar, flute, saxophone, and more. With its combination of uniquely layered instrumentation, funky grooves, and quality songwriting, Like a Fable offers a little bit of something to please everyone.

The Mars Volta – The Mars Volta

The return of The Mars Volta after a ten-year hiatus is one of the most significant musical events of my lifetime. Finally getting to see them live was a dream come true, and returning to their music after a long break allowed me to discover a whole new level of appreciation for their discography. Albums such as Frances The Mute, Amputechture, and Deloused in the Comatorium are among the most challenging, yet rewarding, pieces of music that have ever graced my eardrums.

Having said all of that, I can’t let my excitement about the band’s return factor into my evaluation of this new self-titled album. While it’s a strong effort that ranks among the year’s more enjoyable listens, it’s not a masterpiece like the records listed above. That seems largely by design – the dynamic duo deliberately challenged themselves to write short, concise songs with no frills, the exact opposite of what they’re known for and their fans expect. The fact that not a single track on here runs even five minutes long is downright shocking for longtime listeners, and honestly a bit disappointing.

At the same time, I salute Omar and Cedric for trying something new and refusing to allow anyone to define their sound. And when you consider this album in the context of its creators’ intentions, it’s pretty damn good. The hooks are infectious from beginning to end and none of the tracks are quite as simple as they first seem, with deceptively complex instrumentation and subtle production touches revealing themselves on repeat listens. The lyrics are also more direct and emotionally poignant than anything Cedric has written previously.

Though it doesn’t deliver the visceral energy and mind-blowing experimentation I’ve come to expect from The Mars Volta, this is still a beautiful record that hits hard when you’re in the right mood for it.

Toro Y Moi – Mahal

Toro Y Moi has been on a roll for several years now, consistently coming through with great albums that each sound totally different from one another. Mahal is yet another stylistic departure for the singer/songwriter/producer, combining elements of rock, funk, jazz, and more into a psychedelic stew that never fails to hold your attention.

Mahal is a concept album of sorts, taking the listener on a wild road trip that they won’t forget. The record flows seamlessly from top to bottom, with the sounds of a revving engine and distorted snippets of radio broadcasts serving as perfect transitions. It’s alternately the most diverse and cohesive Toro Y Moi release to date, rapidly flipping through genres while always maintaining its warm, laid-back mood.

This is an album that demands to be listened to all the way through, but some highlights include the bursts of saxophone on “Goes By So Fast,” the haunting vocal melodies on “Clarity,” and the explosive guitar solo on closing track “Days in Love.” With its memorable songwriting, dynamic instrumentation, and exceptional production, Mahal makes a strong case to be recognized as Toro Y Moi’s defining work.