Last year, I wrote my top 10 during the holiday season. This year, as a result of the unforgiving curriculum of IB, the compilation of this list has been delayed.
The silver lining remains: I have had more chances to reflect on the industry as a whole, screen more than a few less well-known films, and sneak in a couple of rewatches.
A quick note on the ten films selected: As Thomas Flight discussed in his YouTube video, marketing directed towards the Academy voters and the mass public inherently sways the consideration. Out of the two hundred films eligible for nomination, only a select few get picked. After fighting off the urge to vomit out a pretentious list of films, I landed on of a bit of a middle ground for this list: There are discussions of films under the glamorous backdrop of the awards – especially in a year where so many movies were more of a phenomenon than a motion picture. At the same time, in an attempt to keep one foot in the real world (thanks TIFF Next Wave), there are also lesser known films that advocate for neglected issues; that feature underrepresented talents, revealing many other areas of the ecosystem of cinema.
Out of the 54 movies from 2023 I have watched – with friends or family, in the middle of the day or well past midnight, energetic or exhausted – these are the ones that stood out.
Honorable Mentions:
- Kneecap
- Saltburn
- Asteroid City
- Mission: Impossible – Dead Reckoning Part One
- They Cloned Tyrone
- Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse
- The Creator
- Dream Scenario
- Beau is Afraid
- Anatomy of a Fall
- The Killer
- Priscilla
- American Fiction
10. Past Lives
I am all for slow films, but one still has to admit that Past Lives sometimes struggles to hold your attention. Yet, the slow pace is at times a foundational emotional catalyst that spoke to the cult following fans of the film.
Lacking of any gush of emotion, the slamming of a door, runaway in pouring rain, Celine Song’s film depended on performance and writing to convey its messages. Going past the slight suspension of disbelief of how reserved the white American husband, Arthur, is, the film delicately tells the story of lost childhood, love, and connection.
The film is destined to be divisive. For some, it will be too simple of a story. But for others – including my parents – the film slowly fills up the space around you with droplets of long-forgotten recollections until the waves of emotion suddenly floods.
9. Les Indésirables (Bâtiment 5)
Screened during TIFF 2023. Every year, a French film sharing the thesis of resilience in the face of the institutional failure of the French government catches my eye: Les Miserables (dir. Ladj Ly as well), Athena, and now, Les Indésirables.
An experienced director working with themes of subversion, Ladj Ly knows how to stage visual scenes with visceral power while keeping a tight grip on the threads of earnest characters in the face of endless bureaucracy. The blend of heartfelt drama and political thriller keep you curious, tense, and engaged. Ly intercuts between Pierre’s (affluent political) and Haby’s (president of the housing association) stories, not presenting judgment, not picking sides, leaving the audience to “feel” for the situation.
8. Barbie
The best Chevrolet ad I have seen ever, period.
Seeing this film in Los Angeles with other aspiring filmmakers dressed either in blue or pink certainly made the viewing experience a lot more fun than sitting in front of a laptop screen.
Greta Gerwig has proved herself to be a capable director and a strong voice for feminism. However, that does not take away the pleasant surprise I felt after seeing how well she navigated Barbie’s IP working in the studio system.
The discussion of female identity, through the clever medium of toy dolls, is spelled out in the most affable and humorous way possible. Ken out of Ken.
7. Killers of the Flower Moon
Any year with a new Scoressee film is a good year. Especially when it’s a three-and-a-half-hour epic (I say with zero intention of being ironic).
Lily Gladstone absolutely killed in her role as the Osage Molli Kyle. DiCaprio and De Niro also gave a formidable performance. The whodunit has enough run time for you to care about the characters and hope for a better turn of their fates in the bloody history of the 1920s.
6. The Zone of Interest
Jonatan Glazer’s Holocaust film follows the domestic life of an Auschwitz commandant’s family.
Notably, it avoids all visual displays of the massacre taking place. The entire film stays outside of the concrete walls of Auschwitz, and that is more than enough horror. For the audience, the haunting sound that emanates from the other side of the wall, the ashes that flow down the river that the children plays in, the jewelry and clothing being scavenged by the family, and the mother moving away due to the horror felt from her “Queen of Auschwitz” daughter does more than enough to create a sense of despair and nausea.
Maybe the family was able to live in denial – the father focusing on his career and “maximizing the efficiency” of the crematorium and the mother focusing on keeping the house after the transfer. But beyond the fourth wall, the audience certainly can not. Enough horror is felt without seeing anything take place. Now imagine the hell over the barbed wires.
5. The Holdovers
Sitting in Seaton’s House, while flakes collect atop the edge of the window, it isn’t hard to imagine an Upper Canada College like Barton fifty years ago. A gentle movie about the relationship between teachers and students, The Holdovers is a perfect movie for the holidays when paired with a bowl of warm soup.
It pulls your heartstrings just enough, dropping the callow dialogues right before it too much – like the film’s uptight educator – but you can’t help but crack a smile through the austere storyline set in a strangely familiar setting.
4. Fallen Leaves
Fallen Leaves presents a wholly different Helsinki than I was expecting. Lacking the knowledge of the language spoken, I placed the film’s setting a lot more east geographically than it was. But after a deeper dive into Aki Kaurismäki’s filmography, I began to understand why the film captures the working class solidarity in the sad, strange world so well.
In this familiar yet uncanny world set in the present day, revealed by the constant news report on the war in Ukraine, you begin to discover Kaurismäki’s hallmark humor and notice the richness in his grey. You feel the passion lived by the most unexpected people; the hope exerted from the most unexpected places. Pidän sinusta mutten itseäni siedä; En tarvitse muita, sinusta en tiedä.
3. Oppenheimer
Nolan continues to make films that may or may not pass the Bechdel test; films that are overblown with sound; and films that journey through time. Yet, when the recipes come together just right, the audience is in it for something truly special (Interstellar, The Prestige, and now, Oppenheimer)
Under such an intense backdrop of marketing and the sensation of internet hype for “Barbenheimer”, I have to admit that I walked into the cinema with the wrong mindset.
Sitting in the Chinese Theatre on Hollywood Boulevard, facing the enormous screen of IMAX 15/70, everything seems to be perfect for the film to make an impression. But walking out, I felt empty. I felt tired; tired of trying to grasp every detail that appeared on the screen; tired of trying to keep up with the references and time cuts.
Last week, beguiled by the adamant proclamation of numerous friends, I decided to give Oppenheimer a rewatch on the next best medium that Nolan intended for: My 14-inch laptop screen. Surprisingly, the film made much more sense to me. As Ludwig Göransson’s score picks up once again, I felt the ingenuity of Jennifer Lame’s editing: the enviable ability to break down a massive story into a natural, clear, aptly paced narrative.
I was wrong in LA. I walked into the theatre with the expectation of a vibe movie (a phrase coined by Nathan Zed and Patrick Willems) like Tenet. But this film is different than Tenet. This is one of those times when things come together just right for Nolan, forming a gem of non-IP cinema that succeeded at the box office.
2. Poor Things
Out of every film on this list, Poor Things demands the most from the audience. It demands your total attention, your absolute commitment, and your open mind that allows Yorgos Lanthimos’ to go wild.
To provide more context, the film is a period piece set in Victorian England. Willem Dafoe plays a Frankenstien-esque genius surgeon Dr. Godwin Baxter who found Bella Baxter’s (Emma Stone) pregnant body after she attempted suicide by jumping off a bridge. Dafoe’s character then transplants the unborn child’s brain into Stone’s body. The result is the infant brain growing up in an adult body as Bella Baxter ventures on a fairytale-like “adventure” (somewhat reminiscent of Benjamin Buttons) across Europe under the colorful, stylistic, watercolor backdrop.
At various points in the movie, the following events happen: Emma Stone says “I need to go punch that baby,” Willem Dafoe makes noises and bursts out bubbles from his mouth, and Mark Ruffalo repeatedly bangs his head against the bar top. None of these scenes, compounded with an off-pitch guitar score and numerous explicit and graphic scenes would have been on my bingo card heading into the movie.
This premise gives Bella Baxter the interesting opportunity to experience the pre-established social structure with a fresh pair of eyes: With no regard to etiquette and no de-sensitivity, her commanding presence questions the men’s view on sexual rights, the need to control, and various other themes.
It is easy to assume this film will get condescendingly preachy, fast. Yet, it surprises you by being pitch-perfect. Every weird concept is treated with the utmost care and respect. It does not go meta, it does not go self-referential; it sticks to its concepts and tells its theme so well.
1. The Boy and the Heron
The Boy and the Heron continues Hayao Miyazaki’s canon of melancholy and delightful artistic mastery. Perhaps Miyazaki’s last and definitely most personal film to date, The Boy and the Heron follows the 12-year-old Mahito Maki after his mother’s passing due to a hospital fire.
The film had a lot going on, but when the credits rolled, the potency began to take effect, and I began to pick out the morals that were important to me. This film was screened after I lost a dear friend, and its message, coincided with what I need to hear.
Growing up means we can no longer hide behind the made-up characters of the imagination of those we’ve lost. In the emotional moment of the final act, Mahito chooses to give up the chance to rule the flipped world, and embraces the real one, taking along the pain associated with it.
The Blue and White 