All told, 2023 shaped up to be an important and integral year of movies.
Audiences came back to the movie theaters in droves, and the movie theaters repaid audiences with an array of smart, edgy, expressive films, taking on a variety of subjects, and styles, and stories. A respected filmmaker like Martin Scorsese could, earlier in the year, speak to the press regarding what he saw as trends in the movie industry hinting at the destruction of the movies--his interviews and published statements read like a veritable Jeremiad warning of the possible demise of cinema as an art form--only to release, later in the year, his own new film, putting his words into action. Rather than simply telling people what the problems are in today's films, Scorsese showed people what he meant. He showed, through his own art, what a great film still looks and sounds like. He demonstrated how to keep the art of cinema alive. [Aside: What balls....]
Looking back over the year that was is always a fun endeavor as a cinephile. Sometimes there's no discernible reason why you like something; you just do. Sometimes it's maybe the way you felt at the time and how it all comes back to you upon review. Sometimes it's the craft and the care of the thing in question. Sometimes it's the story, or the form, or the sound, or the look, or the style, or the overall feel that washes over you as you think back on it.
The traditional end-of-year "Best Of" lists are always subjective and often pointless. It is a ridiculous notion to rank "The Best" movies of a year just recently past when you're obviously dealing with a list of titles from an array of different filmmakers, and different stories, and different visions.
Because such an undertaking is grounded in each viewer's personal taste, there's certainly no perfect science to it. There's no real method involved, other than some primal, instinctual "gut" feeling for those films that stirred something in you, that moved you, made you laugh, made you think, made you wonder, and made you feel. And that's obviously going to be different for everyone.
For what it's worth, then, here are some of my favorite memories at the movies in 2023. Notice I'm not referring to it as a "Best Of" list, ranked in order of preference. I'm not going to do that.
[Aside: I'm not (darn it) a professional film critic. I don't get paid to go to movies and to then review them. (Dammit...) I do this kind of thing because I love movies and always have. And I love discussing movies and always have. And while I saw a lot of new films this past year and loved a lot of what I saw, I by no means saw everything. There are some titles--as of this writing--that I either haven't yet had a chance to see or that haven't yet been released in the United States: Movies like the great Kelly Reichardt's Showing Up, Cord Jefferson's American Fiction, Aki Kaurismaki's Fallen Leaves, the legendary Victor Erice's "coming-out-of-retirement" film Close Your Eyes, Jonathan Glazer's The Zone of Interest, Yorgos Lanthimos' Poor Things, and the masterful German director Wim Wenders' latest film, Perfect Days. Had I already seen a few of these films--and others that come to mind--I feel fairly certain they would be appearing somewhere on the list below. As it is, though, I haven't seen everything, and so several fine films are unavoidably absent. This is the way.]
Maybe some of these films--most of them--could be considered some of the best movies of the year, across the board. But maybe not.... Whatever the case, these are the ones I liked the most. In a year that turned out to be chock full of great movies, these are the movies I thought were the greatest--the films that worked most effectively (for me, anyway) at keeping the wonderful art of cinema alive.
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* The films below are listed alphabetically, by the filmmakers' last names.
10 FAVORITE FILMS OF 2023
Asteroid City -- Wes Anderson
Anyone who knows me (a little or a lot) probably knows what a fan I am of Wes Anderson's films. If we're close and we've "talked film" before, there's a chance his name and his work has come up in conversation. If someone has followed this blog for any time and has read my year-end movie reviews in the past, you will possibly recognize my devotion to Anderson's films in my annual list of the year's favorites. I don't do this just to be stubborn or because I feel I need to live up to some precedent set by myself. I do it because I genuinely admire him as a distinct film artist (one of the most distinct film artists--with one of the most distinctive visions and visual styles of storytelling--working in the world today). His work is entertaining, thoughtful, and important to me.
But my opinion of him and of his films is not shared by everyone. I know that. And I understand why. The vaunted "Wes Anderson Style"--practiced and perfected since his debut in 1996 with Bottle Rocket, the elaborated feature-film version of his original college-student short--has, for many viewers, really grown tiresome and thin over the decades. But I'm a holdout: I'm still a big fan. I'm still all in. And Anderson's 11th feature film this past year sees him hitting a new benchmark, I believe, in visual storytelling, narrative structure, and thematic exploration of many of his familiar concerns (loss, grief, family, loneliness, despair, community, acceptance, love).
Priscilla -- Sofia Coppola
Sofia Coppola's dizzyingly lovely-and-tough interpretation of Priscilla Presley's 1985 memoir, Elvis and Me, is wonderful, charming, disarming, sad, and impressive as hell. Like the book it's based on, Coppola's film offers a close look at the relationship between Priscilla and the King of Rock-and-Roll, spanning the years of 1959 (when 14-year old Priscilla Beaulieu was first introduced to the world's biggest music star of the day...10 years her senior [Aside: yes, the creepiness factor of 24-year old Elvis grooming the young, beautiful freshman in high school is a little hard to watch in 2023]), to 1973, when Priscilla decides to leave Elvis in the depth of his drunken, drugged-out stupor of fame and celebrity. It is a smart, clever, stylish, insightful film--familiar trademarks of Coppola's finest work--with top-shelf acting from its leads (Cailee Spaeny and Jacob Elordi), ethereal cinematography from Philipe Le Sourd, and Coppola's usual brilliance as director.
Like Wes Anderson above, Sofia Coppola is a somewhat divisive filmmaker who can separate audiences into at least two different camps. You either buy into her dreamy, shoe-gazey, poetic visuals and her light-as-air narrative style, or you don't. I love her work. And Priscilla, her 8th feature film, is no exception. It's a strong return to form for her. It's one of her best films in years.
Spider-Man: Across the Spider-verse -- Joaquim Dos Santos, Justin K. Thompson, Kemp Powers
I don't know that I found any movie more entertaining than this one in 2023. This thing is just flat-out fun, a laser-light fireworks show of all that contemporary animation can do. From beginning to end, wall-to-wall, the movie is packed--every corner of every frame--with details and delights that reward with each rewatch. But it's the human story--the characters' arcs, their journeys, their relationships with one another (husbands and wives, fathers and mothers, sons and daughters, young love, obligations, parents, children, responsibilities, fear, anger, resentment, reconciliation)--that really makes this movie pay off.
The second "Act" of any classical 3-part story structure is generally the most important to a well-told story. A third film (Act III) of this Spider-verse story is currently under production. I can't imagine how the filmmakers are going to top this installment of the trilogy. (But I look forward to finding out.)
May December -- Todd Haynes
It's possible the same could be said of filmmaker Todd Haynes what American novelist/essayist John Updike once famously said of fellow author J.D. Salinger (of
The Catcher in the Rye fame): "He loves his characters more than God does."
From Safe (1995), to Velvet Goldmine (1998), to I'm Not There (2007), to Carol (2015), to 2023's May December, Haynes has consistently explored risky, or dangerous, or transgressive themes and characters and narratives. He does the same here in his examination of truth and artifice, as well as the artifice in truth, and the truth in artifice. And running through all of it are the strong performances that one has come to expect in a Haynes film--particularly this time from the two female leads, Julianne Moore and Natalie Portman, both of whom have received their share of much-deserved pre-Awards buzz.
The Boy and the Heron (original Japanese title:
How Do You Live?) -- Hayao Miyazaki
Legendary Japanese director Hayao Miyazaki supposedly announced his retirement in 2013, following the release of his own Studio Ghibli's 20th feature film,
The Wind Rises--an animated historical biopic with some (not entirely uncommon) autobiographical touches from the film's then 72-year old writer/director.
Regarding retirement, Miyazaki changed his mind. And now, 10 years later, the 82-year old filmmaker has released his latest concoction of autobiography, dream imagery, myth, fantasy, war, love, familial strains, friendship, atonement. It's all here on display. Familiar themes, familiar character types, familiar plot devices, familiar imagery. And while for some this may come across, finally, as a bit derivative and less-than his greatest work, I find it to be the same thing that a great artist like Monet was getting at with his countless waterlilies, and train stations, and haystacks in the rolling pastures of rural France. Miyazaki is an old master at his craft, and he is one of the world's great living filmmakers. And The Boy and the Heron is a late-career celebration of the man's unique vision and artistry--an important addition to his oeuvre.
Oppenheimer -- Christopher Nolan
No lesser Hollywood heavyweight than legendary writer/director Paul Schrader declared Christopher Nolan's latest film, Oppenheimer, to be "the greatest film of the century."
Now, that is a lot.
And while in many ways such a statement is more than likely a case of recency-biased hyperbole, you will swear--while sitting in the audience for Nolan's 3-hour intimate epic of the man and his "device" that changed the world--that maybe Schrader is onto something....
This is a damned good film. It's a great film. I believe this is Nolan's best work. And Cillian Murphy, unforgettable in his performance of the title character, is almost sure to win awards. It's a monumental achievement all the way around. If it's not the "movie of the century," it certainly feels like it.
The Holdovers -- Alexander Payne
I love Alexander Payne's films. More than likely, if the average, casual filmgoer were asked to mention a handful of the great American movies over the past 25 years, chances are Payne's filmography would not come to mind. (And therein, ironically, lies part of the secret of his artistry and his greatness.)
Citizen Ruth (1996). Election (1999). About Schmidt (2002). Sideways (2004). The Descendants (2011). Nebraska (2013)....
Payne hails from the center of the country itself--the plains of Nebraska--and it is decidedly this quiet, unassuming, not-wanting-to-draw-attention-to-itself Midwest sensibility that informs all of his films and makes them the quiet, unassuming, masterful works of art that they are. You will not find flashy camera movement in his movies. Nor edgy editing or narrative playfulness. And this surface "simplicity" and minimalistic storytelling approach is deceptive. Because every one of those titles listed above is a great film. Payne makes distinctly American films, yes, but they are also saturated with his love of 1960's French and Italian films, as well as his love of the films from the great early-1970's cinema renaissance in America. Even in this work, his latest, you feel vibes from the likes of Jean-Luc Godard, and from Hal Ashby, and from Michelangelo Antonioni, and from Robert Altman. It doesn't unnecessarily call attention to itself, but these influences are all over The Holdovers. It is its lifeblood.
This is a wonderful film. I love this movie.
Killers of the Flower Moon -- Martin Scorsese
I texted friends, upon seeing Martin Scorsese's film adaptation of David Grann's great 2017 book of journalistic reportage of the same name, something along the lines of: "I don't know if this is the best American film of the year, or if it's the equivalent of the mythic 'Great American Novel,' but it certainly is, quite possibly, 'The Great American Movie.'"
With a sweeping statement like that, I didn't mean that Scorsese's latest is the greatest American film ever made (although the proverbial "jury" is still out, I suppose). I meant, more, that it is--philosophically, maybe--the greatest film about America ever made....
(Again...the jury is out. But we'll see.)
This is a beautiful, harsh, ugly, lovely, sensitive, painful, violent, honest, terrible, wonderful movie about the truth at the heart of the "greatness" that a country like America has always (vocally, anyway) aspired to. Scorsese has dedicated the bulk of his storied career to studying, in depth, the painful beauty of greed, and sin, and hatred, and love. At 81 years of age, he has never stopped pushing the envelope. He is a risk-taker, a maverick, a genius. And this is one of the best films of his legendary career. It is a late masterpiece.
Past Lives -- Celine Song
This is the one movie that genuinely moved me more than any film this past year. It is simple in its presentation. It is minimalistic in its style and its approach. It is narratively straight-forward in the layout of its story, and its characters, and its "conflict."
But...wow...does this thing work. It sneaks up on you. It's so affecting and so graceful and so powerful in its unmannered manner. The humanity expressed within its carefully regulated story. The scale of emotion--both expressed and repressed--among its trio of central characters. It's enough to make you hold your breath for fear that you might knock the whole thing over.
And then the film's last moments....
Suffice to say, the closing scene knocked my (emotional) legs out from under me. I was a wreck in the movie theater. (I'm man enough to admit that.)
Past Lives could very easily be my favorite movie of the year. Period. End stop. (A masterpiece. Undoubtedly.) Hailing from the theater, this is, amazingly, Celine Song's film debut as writer/director. I look forward to whatever she does next.
Anatomy of a Fall -- Justine Triet
Courtroom dramas are naturally designed to play out as great theater. All the classic narrative structures and character types are naturally in place--the conflict, the archetypal antagonist and protagonist--as well as the arcs of the various people in the story. It's all there: A perfect display of Storytelling 101.
French film writer/director Justine Triet is at the top of her game here with the deceptively simple/complicated study of love, hatred, marriage, parenthood, children, vengeance, love, and dogs (Oh my God, Snoop....)
In many ways, this movie haunted me like no other. It wouldn't leave me alone in the days and weeks after viewing it--a masterful film. And lead actress Sandra Huller delivers (I think) the greatest acting performance of the year. She is phenomenal. I hope she is recognized at awards time.
This is a great movie. I still can't stop thinking about it.
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HONORABLE MENTIONS
Four Short Films: Roald Dahl -- Wes Anderson
A hell of a year for Anderson. Stylistically, visually, and narratively brilliant. Check it out. (To my knowledge, only available on Netflix.)
Squaring the Circle: The Story of Hipgnosis -- Anton Corbin
As a lifetime fan of Pink Floyd, The Alan Parsons Project, Peter Gabriel, etc., I was naturally drawn to this documentary film about the history of the London art-design company that created some of the most memorable, historic, iconic rock album covers of all time.
Fascinating.
The Iron Claw -- Scott Durkin
Maybe only fellow filmmaker Christopher Nolan held he same passion to make his film this year as did Scott Durkin in his loving telling of the tragic true story of the doomed Von Erich family from the 1980s world of professional wrestling....
Quite simply, if this story weren't real, you wouldn't believe it. (Seriously.) This is heartbreaking stuff--breathtaking, moving, and great.
Good storytelling. Good acting. Good filmmaking. I like it.
Barbie -- Greta Gerwig
Okay. Here it is: The one everyone's been waiting for.... (I know. This film is supposed to be higher up on the list, right?)
Anyway, I did not forget this film, the ridiculously popular pink-half of the "Barbenheimer" phenomenon that defined "Summer 2023" at the movies.
To be clear: I liked this movie. (Notice I did not say I loved it, though.) It is a funny movie, It is bright. It is intelligent. It is witty. It is self-referential and self-parodying. (But, in my opinion, for all its strengths, it gets a little too serious and sanctimonious for a movie with the name Barbie in the title.) Still, though, its screenplay, its production design, its performances, it direction...this movie works, for the most part, and is a fun memory of the year that was.
The Makanai: Cooking for the Maiko House
-- Hirokazu Kore-eda
Based on the long-running manga series of books,
Kiyo in Kyoto, masterful Japanese filmmaker Hirokazu Kore-eda (
After Life [1998],
Still Walking [2008],
Shoplifters [2018]) brings to life this simple story told simply in his typically beautiful, humanistic style. An extended series presented on Netflix over the past year, this "movie" is a touching, thought-provoking, sensitive, and moving portrayal of good people being good people and doing good things for one another.
(This thing made me smile and tear up more than once, I must admit....)
Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny -- James Mangold
I know. I know.... Stop it. (I'm sure I'm the only person to include this movie on an end-of-year "Favorites" list, I know. Still....) In my defense, I will say only this:
I enjoyed this movie. Was it perfect? No. Was it great? No. Were there weak spots and faults? Of course--absolutely. And yet....
The movie was good. Did it make me smile and laugh? Yes. Did it make me choke up a time or two (seriously)? Yes, it did. Did it make me happy to have witnessed the arc of Harrison Ford's development/resolution of this classic film character that he helped to create over the past 40 years, resulting in a somewhat reasonable and satisfying close?
Yes. Yes. And definitely yes. (I don't apologize for this.)
Godland -- Hylanur Palmason
A young Danish priest in the late-19th century--with an old-fashioned camera (tripod, and black-caped hood, etc.)--travels through the rural lands of Iceland to start a church in a far-flung no-man's land corner of the country, taking posed photos of the locals along the way.
A startlingly stark, vivid, ephemeral, tense, and visually stunning film. The cinematography, alone, is some of the best I saw in 2023. The landscapes are astounding, and the compositions throughout the film are beautiful, and harsh, and threatening, and breathtaking, and unforgettable.
Godzilla Minus One -- Takashi Yamazaki
Maybe the biggest pleasant surprise of the past year for me in the movie theater--this is a surprisingly wonderful and exhilarating film. I'm a film buff, yes, but admittedly was never a huge fan of the legendary Godzilla series; nevertheless, this new film takes up the mantle of resurrecting--with a perfectly straight face and a disarmingly affecting human story on the side--the atomic-age monster-from-the-deep and his requisite tale of rage and revenge.
Minimal budget. Fun screenplay. Great direction, and acting, and production values, etc. And the result is timeless. As strange as it may sound in 2023, this is a fantastic Godzilla movie.
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