(This article is part of our Best of 2025 series.)
2024 was the first year I made a consistent, concerted effort to review films. I struck gold, with just under 20 films that I cherished, more than double that which intrigued or excited me in some way, and quite a few others that, for all their faults, still held some entertainment value. Now that a far more lacklustre year for cinema has swept me by in 2025, I am starting to realise I should have been more grateful for the highs of the previous year. Loath as I am to mention the painful ‘67’ meme that has swept the world by storm, it bears some relevance here! Whether it was Sinners, Eddington, One Battle After Another, The Smashing Machine, Warfare, Weapons, and many others, I found myself constantly oscillating between these two possible ratings out of ten for some of this year’s most beloved releases.
I’m sure that the extensive Hollywood strikes in 2023 had some impact on this discrepancy between my appreciation of these past two years in cinema. Of my top 20 films of 2024, a little under half of those movies were first released in 2023, but didn’t have a widespread theatrical release until the following year, by which point the strikes had come to an end. I should also mention that some of the most acclaimed, anticipated releases of 2025 have swept me by without me getting the chance to see them. I have a list of about two dozen examples of this that I hope to work through soon. Some of the most prominent films on it include Die, My Love, Bugonia, Sentimental Value, Roofman, and Hamnet.
Living in rural Ireland is a constant thorn in my side as a cinema lover, but I have grown so used to modelling best-of-the-year lists off of US theatrical release dates that it has become second nature, so I will keep that tradition alive here. More importantly, not doing so would result in me eliminating my favourite film from this list, a decision I can’t willingly go through with.
Steve
Netflix’s dominance in the streaming market grows ever more worrisome. Even still, it offers up minor joys, such as the platform’s release of Cillian Murphy and Tim Mielants’ second feature-length collaboration, Steve. The pair had previously teamed up for 2024’s Small Things Like These, a little-seen gem outside of Ireland that was my favourite film of 2024. Focusing on an ordinary man shaken by the abuses of the Catholic Church in 1980s Ireland, it was quietly gripping, acutely capturing the soul-sinking dread that repression and shame provoke so easily.
In comparison, Steve is fast-paced and larger-than-life, with unique filmmaking techniques from Mielants and a largely breakbeat score, capturing the chaos that unfurls in an unconventional school in the UK. Its headmaster, the eponymous Steve (Murphy), is struggling to control the aggressive, rage-filled teens that inhabit it, all while inner turmoil threatens to tear him apart. While the film’s eclectic visual style and uninhibited emotional palette occasionally veer into pretentious territory, it is so earnest and panic-inducing that its faults pale in comparison to its greatest qualities.
Of these, none shine more brightly than Cillian Murphy, with the recent Oscar winner somehow managing to offer up three spell-binding lead performances in a row, starting with Oppenheimer and capped off by this haggard, fraying schoolteacher. Some actors earn acclaim and awards buzz from eliciting a full spectrum of emotion on their facial expressions, but Murphy goes beyond this, managing to exhibit hope, dejectedness and profound sorrow through his eyes. His clear-blue eyes tell their own story, one which is always compelling to watch.
Late Shift
While I had hoped for a bit more from its ending, Petra Volpe’s Late Shift is a masterclass in capturing the pain and beauty of the present moment. I have always been an ardent fan of slow cinema that acutely captures the hum of life’s everyday rhythms, and Late Shift presents a masterclass in this vein. Following a nurse, Flora (Leonie Benesch), on her (you guessed it) late-night shift, the film is unbearably tense and brimming with glimmers of hope. The nursing staff in this Swiss drama are overworked beyond belief, but must find a way to miraculously hold themselves upright amidst an endless barrage of complaints, concerns, and queries.
Even as she’s slowly falling apart over the course of this seemingly never-ending shift, Flora is a ray of light in this unfair world. She is pragmatic and resourceful, yet never infallible. Watching her constant struggles across this single night turns this aspect of everyday life into a constant warzone, one in which she and the viewer are always on the frontlines. Late Shift is a desperate film following desperate people, yet it is clever enough to rise above dour bleakness.
Presence
Steven Soderbergh’s Presence has been met with a muted reception from both critics and audiences, but I found that it made for an unforgettable cinematic experience. This ghost story follows the perspective of a haunted spirit in a home that is suddenly anew with life after a family of four moves in. Of the family unit, the ghost is most drawn to its teenage daughter, Chloe (Callina Liang). The film’s seemingly horror-based premise rarely presents any scares. Instead, it’s a moving family drama that toys with its unconventional filming format to explore the lingering presence of trauma.
For roughly half of the film, I was so immersed in the story that I didn’t think about the fact that I was watching all this unfold from a ghost’s POV. For the other half of Presence, this was all I could think about. In most ghost stories, especially haunted house tales, you’re terrified for the human characters’ sake that they come across this ghostly presence. But in this film, it was the exact opposite. From how the ghost moved and what it focused its perspective on, I came to reckon with the emotions of this unseen figure. It is an unusually tender story about a desperate desire for connection amidst an isolating, alienating world. I also found resonance in the ways in which the ghost’s voyeurism paralleled my love of cinema, where you want so much to infiltrate these characters’ lives for the better, if only for a moment.
Souleymane’s Story
Before securing a lead role in Boris Lojkine’s heart-wrenching Souleymane’s Story, Abou Sangaré had never acted in anything. He was a mechanic and asylum seeker in France who had made the arduous trek from Guinea to Europe to earn enough to pay for his mother’s medical care. Out of this desperate search for respite from an unforgiving world, the bones of this story was born, whose plot parallels many of Sangaré’s own struggles. Sangaré portrays Souleymane, an asylum seeker and e-bike delivery driver eager to forge a new life for himself in France, all while his upcoming interview for asylum application interview looms over him.
In just two days, the most important decision of his life will be made. In the meantime, bills must be paid and responsibilities fulfilled. Just like in Late Shift, you find yourself so often wishing for this protagonist to be cut some slack. His efforts are tireless, yet life has a way of nullifying all his hard work. The most dispiriting moments of Souleymane’s Story never feel contrived for a single moment, especially as the film builds towards a deeply emotional final sequence. Few movies can wrangle any tears from these weary eyes, but this first-time actor was so breathtaking that I couldn’t help but weep. Like Souleymane, you will spend this film searching for answers, finding none, and praying for mercy. Maybe the latter is a fruitless task, but you will be moved enough to try anyway.
Marty Supreme
For as much as I enjoyed individual elements of Paul Thomas Anderson’s One Battle After Another — Leonardo DiCaprio’s portrayal of general incompetence, an eerie driving sequence, and Sean Penn’s scene-stealing performance, to name just a few — I wasn’t nearly so wowed by the film as a whole. It is a rousing call to action and an earnest plea for empathy and rebellion. But it never came close to matching the epic, masterful odyssey I envisioned when its critical and audience responses turned out to be overwhelmingly positive. It also never felt as visually inspired as almost all of Anderson’s filmography. I found that its ‘hang-out movie’ pacing clashed with the adulant descriptors like ‘kinetic’ that kept being hurled at the film by its many fans.
Naturally, I tempered my expectations when Josh Safdie’s Marty Supreme earned this same level of praise, only to find myself spellbound by its propulsive energy. What begins as a table tennis success story instead lampoons and celebrates the folly of the American Dream, as well as the intriguing, enraging, charming, headache-inducing blend of zeal and con artistry required to chase after it. And only the chase is guaranteed. The aspiring number #1 tennis player in the world, Marty Mauser (Timothée Chalamet) is constantly chasing greatness, but that almost always comes at a great personal cost. As this kinetic sports movie balloons into a tension-filled odyssey that’s as much in the pursuit of survival as it is stardom, Marty finds himself desperately hunting and being hunted.
On the one hand, it is impossible not to think that he deserves the many calamities that befall him, as his almost psychopathic drive propels him into the sleazy gutters of immorality time and time again. But Marty, the ultimate conman, unknowingly commits his most convincing act yet in winning over the moviegoing audience. He believes his own lies so forcefully that the truth matters little. The grand vista of the future, meanwhile, dims to a crystal-clear certainty in his mind, crystallised in his beady eyes and the unstoppable vision they behold. Even as everything inevitably goes to shit in this comedy of errors, Marty is unfailing in his self-belief, so much so that you are not only won over by his efforts, you even start to believe in the impossible, too.
While I have found myself generally disappointed in this year for cinema, this ability to convince me to believe in the impossible, grazing against cosmic, unknowable forces that seem to exist to keep us down, is found across all five of these brilliant films. Grazing against that beautiful, terrifying unknown is everything I want out of an artistic experience. Whether in life or in film, we can only touch these sublime heights momentarily, and I am grateful that I was able to do so with my five favourites from 2025.