At the end of each year, I try to compile a list of films that strike me the most. This year, that list is these five films.
I’ve been judging films since before I was old enough for conscious thought. My dad made me an IMDb account when I was eight years old. Since then, I’ve been religiously ranking all my favorite films (follow my letterboxd?), pondering the best distribution for ratings (7/10 should not be the middle) and arguing over whether “Kill Bill” is better or worse than “Pulp Fiction” (much better).
In short, incredibly pointless stuff…
But recently I’ve been trying to capture my memories of movies in a way that contains a little more humanity. In this article, I’ll try not to minimize these films into catchy summaries or pretentious political themes. Instead, I’m attempting to get at the way these films feel. At least, to me.
5. “Civil War:” Voyeuristic visceral violence (directed by Alex Garland)
At this point, it’s rare that violence in movies feels real to me. On-screen massacres, dismemberment, wars and torture-scenes occur often enough to make supercuts of them (do not show a Victorian child a KILL COUNT video).
Sometimes, though, there is the rare film where violence regains viscerality, where I am flinching at fights, averting my eyes at the sight of blood. “Civil War” is that kind of film. The movie follows a team of war-journalists attempting to document the bloodshed around them. And in this America, set in the near-future, bloodshed is plentiful.
Maybe it is the sound-design, which jolts between ear-splitting gun-fire and quiet ambience. Maybe it is because we inhabit the perspective of war journalists — the violence feels more real because the protagonists are not directly involved. They watch voyeuristically from the sidelines, like us. Or maybe it is my neoliberal bias, my intolerance for a war-film set not in the distant past or a foreign country, but in the present and in my home country. Halfway through, I was feeling nauseous at the sight of blood, tensing my shoulders every time a weapon was in frame — somehow re-sensitized to filmic violence.
My favorite scene: a car drives through a burning forest in the dark. The flames light up our characters’ faces in a warm, dim yellow. Embers shower the car like snowflakes. It is a moment of tragedy so large that we can be spared some beauty.
4. “Dune: Part Two:” Paul Atreides coldest moments compilation (directed by Denis Villeneuve)
When I watched “Dune” back in 2021, I was stunned by the sense of scale. The universe felt huge, so full of lore and power and politics. We follow Paul Atreides as his family is compelled by the emperor to rule over Arrakis, the most valuable planet in the galactic empire.
Watching that first sandworm scene in theaters was one of the greatest experiences I’ve had with any movie. “Dune” builds tension with awesome scale and specificity. It sacrifices plot for an expansive and imaginative world.
On the other hand, “Dune: Part Two” is just… so much more fun. I’m sorry but I LOVE the chosen-one narratives. Paul grows so much in the sequel that the universe shrinks in comparison. But I’m unbothered. The first “Dune” can keep its subtle politics and evocative world-building. I’d rather stay in this epic chosen-one vs. final boss revolution/revenge story. I’d rather watch PAUL MUAD’DIB ATREIDES, DUKE OF ARRAKIS grab the narrative by its throat and dominate the onscreen world.
My favorite scene: the one underground. You know the one.
3. “Smile 2:” Perfect Blue—but scarier, so much scarier (directed by Parker Finn)
It was a dark and windy November night. I was with my friends, post-Dairy-Queen, trying to decide what movie to watch. I thought “Smile 2” might be fun. By the time the movie finished and the credits played (to a soundtrack of screaming rather than a song), I ran out of that damned theater as fast I could.
Horror movies usually have sequences of safety and normalcy in between the scares. In “Smile 2,” these sequences last about five minutes each. Each object or space of safety — the best friend, the apartment, the hospital and eventually, reality and temporality — is transgressed with such jarring speed that I am never able to emotionally prepare myself for the next visual. There is no time to recover, no withdrawal, no scene that is not immediately contorted into horror that is so much closer, more intimate than imagined.
There are, in particular, two scenes in this movie that are conceptually so terrifying that the idea alone is enough to send chills down my spine. Let alone the surreal physicality the film gives them. One of them involves a man in a hallway. The other is…
My favorite scene: synchronized dancers approaching.
2. “Anora:” A movie like a bender (directed by Sean Baker)
“Anora” might be the most fun I’ve ever had in a theatre. But fun doesn’t cut it. It felt… magical. Sitting there at Aquarius with a full, energetic audience, I got that elusive feeling of sharing a masterpiece with other people. Like The Visitors at SFMOMA, except less moving and more delightful. It felt like we were all on a road trip together.
I went into “Anora” thinking that it would be an intense and emotional drama. One fourth of the way through, and I am prepared for a heavy film about class, power-dynamics, sexualization and so on (perhaps I am conditioned by media that must dramatize sex-work into tragedy).
And then “Anora” hits you with some of the purest entertainment I have ever seen. One-liners and slapstick and Russian accents and strip club fight-scenes and awkward, off-kilter dialogue that doesn’t feel contrived and effortlessly makes you laugh. It’s just so authentically entertaining.
I finally understand what Nicole Kidman means in that pretentious AMC ad, except “Anora” accomplishes awesome cinematic immersion without ever giving up the fun of it all. The emotional range goes from misery to cringe-inducing to literally the funniest scenes I’ve ever seen.
My favorite scene: all of the second act of this movie.
1. “DìDi:” It’s about you. (directed by Sean Wang)
At the start of “DìDi,” you will be impressed by how lived-in the setting feels. Every room in the boy’s home will look so full with color, detail, with the nostalgia of being a kid, with the vibes of 2008 and the internet. As you meet the movie’s protagonist, you will feel the realism of the boy and his family dynamics: the weight of mutual obligation, the infuriating transgressions, the awkward, straight-faced intimacy. You will remember how much of being a kid is humiliation, is desperation, is performativity, is clawing towards a maturity you don’t even really want. You will see and you will remember a mean-spirited male friend-group, a standoffish sibling, a nagging grandma, an (in)vulnerable Asian mom. And, sometime along the way, you will come to understand that “DìDi” is about you.
That’s you, there, playing off cruelty as humor, afraid to establish boundaries with your friends. That’s you, screaming at your mom with filial impiety, with emotions that are justified and unjustifiable. Hell, you went to that Golfland growing up. You will feel guilty and embarrassed and reevaluate memories and think about the internet and the violence of coolness and promise to yourself that you should appreciate your family more. You will cry a lot when it ends.
It’ll feel strange, because you’ve been watching movies your whole life about other people. But this one is not just another relatable simulacrum of adolescence. DìDi is a movie about you.
Thankfully, it’s a really, really good one.
My favorite scene: a conversation between mother and son.
Editor’s Note: This article is a review and includes subjective thoughts, opinions and critiques.