The 100 Best Films of 2023

60 | Bottoms

Writer/director Emma Seligman delivers a delightful farce that I could only aptly describe as Mel Brooks-does-Euphoria, the sort of gleefully surreal and over-the-top comedy that just doesn’t get made very often anymore. The dynamite script is carried by the capable hands of the ridiculously charming Rachel Sennott and Ayo Edibiri, with an added assist from a Best Supporting Actor-worthy Marshawn Lynch. The funniest movie of the year. – R.J.


59 | The Unknown Country

While Lily Gladstone rightfully tears up the award circuit for Killers of the Flower Moon, there’s another of her performances worth talking about this year in the undersung road film, The Unknown Country. Chronicling a trip through the American Midwest, Lily Gladstone gives a subtle performance as the grieving Tana making her way to a family wedding. Tana passes postcard vistas and the everyday sights of the open road on her sojourn, the transitory beauty matched with a dreamy, shoegaze-heavy soundtrack. The real revelation of the road are the quasi-documentary snippets of the characters and non-actors Tana meets along the way. We may only meet these clerks, waitstaff, and regulars once as they tell their stories, but they’ll remain an indelible part of the landscape forever. – N.A.


58 | Earth Mama

Working in the vein of grounded, slice-of-life cinema with a hint of the subjective that only film can offer, Savannah Leaf’s debut Earth Mama makes for a heart-rending look at single motherhood through a young woman trying to regain custody of her children while preparing for the arrival of another. With an understated but no less effective performance from Tia Nomore, Gia navigates a community that’s splitting her apart, forcing her to juggle her community, the requirements to regain the children she loves, and the future of her unborn child. Shot on grainy 16mm, there’s a beautiful haze surrounding Gia’s day-to-day life and constant turmoil simmering below, attempting to do what’s right, in an all-too human situation. The standout images though are the subjective moments of nature bleeding into the surrounding that no doubt gave the film its title, seeking a moment of calm and respite in a weary world. -N.A.


57 | Passages

A gracefully directed tale of social psychopathy, Ira Sachs’ Fassbinder-tinged relationship drama holds one of the year’s most memorable characterizations in Franz Rogowski’s Tomas, a devilishly self-serving, unfailingly well-dressed charmer who plumbs unsettling new depths beneath the term “chaotic gay”. – R.J.


56 | A Haunting in Venice

Hercule Poirot is back with the best film yet in Kenneth Branagh’s ongoing franchise. A Haunting in Venice is the most confident film I’ve seen from Branagh, moody and evocative of the great Luchino Visconti, the film’s observations on grief and the meaning of life are as profound as any film released last year. Assembling a genuinely impressive ensemble for an original concept that somehow surpasses any of the previous films in the franchise. I for one can’t wait for Branagh’s next entry in this series, and can only hope the filmmaker continues to make these forever. – C.W.


55 | Barbie

Due to its rampant overexposure, it is admittedly a bit difficult to muster up any authentic enthusiasm to go long on Barbie as I sit here writing this blurb in mid-January 2024. That being said, it remains a minor miracle that a film this gleefully unhinged (and, it must be said, quite enjoyably messy) was made and released by a major studio who then proceeded to give it the largest marketing push of the year. And not only that, it was a goddamn hit, experiencing the kind of commercial success reserved only for, y’know, Star Wars and Avengers movies over the last decade or so. Warner Bros. was somehow goaded into giving Gerwig and Baumbach the reins to create a bona fide auteur object; one with recreations of sequences from Playtime and The Ladies Man; one with the motor-mouthed dialogue and feminist speechifying of Little Women and Marriage Story; one with verbal references to Proust, and Robert Evans, and The Fall. It must also be said that the performances from Robbie and Gosling were every bit as archetypal and immediately iconic as they had to be for this thing to have even the slightest chance of working. The script is still (again, kinda charmingly) jumbled and all-over-the-place – it feels like it went through at least a solid 60 drafts before reaching the finish line – but Gerwig’s visual universe will most likely remain the central iconography of Barbie until the end of time, and her film will remain a somewhat reassuring reminder that audiences will occasionally accept mass entertainment with an actual fucking vision behind it. – R.J.


54 | Origin

Ava Duvernay is frequently underrated by critics and audiences alike despite being one of the most talented filmmakers working today. Her style is effective and precise with an evocative attention to detail and genuine knack with actors. Origin is the finest film of Duvernay’s career; ambitious and epic on a scale no other film in 2023 is operating on. Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor gives a nuanced and brave performance that ranks as one of the finest of this century. Seek this out folks! Absolutely incredible stuff – C.W.


53 | The Sweet East

A Huckleberry Finn for Gen Z, The Sweet East is brave, beautiful filmmaking that will be written about far more than it was seen in its original release, oftentimes a mark of a film’s excellence or as a reflection of the historical record, both categories which it fulfills sublimely. Talia Ryder, who is shockingly unrelated to Winona, acts as mirror to what feels like the end of history, otherwise known as the 2020s American experience. Sean Price Williams proves he is capable of shepherding actor, image, and story in sublime fashion. – J.S.


52 | Dream Scenario

This delirious dark comedy from Norwegian newcomer Kristoffer Borgli sees Nicolas Cage delivering an honest-to-god performance as a schlubby egomaniac, managing to surpass the previous heights of the last half-decade’s indie Cageaissance by daring to invert his typical onscreen persona into that of an uncharismatic and deeply unlikable introvert. Borgli’s screenplay is a ringer as well, imaginatively mounting discomfort and anxiety upon our protagonist in such a peculiarly relatable, diabolical way that one can’t help but guffaw. I will never manage to forget one particular sequence involving Dylan Gelula. – R.J.


51 | The Color Purple

While results may vary when seeing the results of the Broadway musical to movie musical pipeline, The Color Purple proves that it can be done effectively. Based on Alice Walker’s 1982 book of the same name (and taking some cues from the 1985 feature film), the musical follows Celie and the many hardships she and other African American women face in the Southern U.S. at the turn of the century. It’s a plot that wouldn’t seem to favor the inclusion of musical numbers, especially with some of the more tragic beats, but the musical numbers work in the film’s favor, either representing Celie’s subjective thoughts and reactions to events or being used as representations of the events themselves. Fantasia Barrino makes quite the debut as Celie, giving a great vocal performance alongside the rest of the cast, including Taraji P. Henson, whose role as blues singer Shug Avery provides some of the best musical numbers in the film. While the music and dance numbers may be the latest innovation for The Color Purple, the beating heart at the center of this story and its adaptations remains alive and well, in the perseverance and sisterhood of these women through the trials and tribulations of their times, believing that despite it all there’s still a beauty and hope worth living for. -N.A.


50 | Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mutant Mayhem

In the wake of Spiderverse, it was bound for more folks to try their hands towards the combination of time-tested IP and unconventional animation. The miracle is that such a craven formula proved artistically successful. TMNT is without a doubt, the peak of any media related to a teenage mutant ninja turtle. A surprisingly kinetic sense of action pervades the markedly youthful and consciously diverse reptiles’ misadventures. – J.S.


49 | Suzume

One of the great advantages of animation as a medium is that it can take us on fantastical adventures that would be near-impossible to make by any other means. Makoto Shinaki’s Suzume, an epic race-against-time across Japan to stop otherworldly forces from destroying the country. Smooth animation and character designs make this an easy watch, even when trying to make sense of a living chair that glides across the screen as effortlessly as anything else. There’s an affecting story here on closing the door on grief and moving forward from it, as Suzume is tasked with literally shutting doors to the afterlife. A clever and thoughtful tale of moving past tragedy throughout Japan never looked so vibrant and beautiful. – N.A.


48 | Monster

Hirokazu Kore-eda’s latest might be my personal favorite of the great auteurs. Showing the same story from three perspectives, Kore-eda masterfully unfolds the truth of the central incident with grace and an overwhelming amount of empathy. One of the essential films of 2023, Monster is a bonafide masterpiece that’ll leave any viewer in a puddle of tears. You know what to do folks, seek this out! – C.W.


47 | Blue Jean

Georgia Oakley’s debut feature Blue Jean is a lovely, quiet drama that is just a treat. The type of indie picture that slips through the cracks by the end of the year but I managed to get most of our writers to watch this picture. Dealing with the nuances of adolescence and sexuality set against Thatcher-era England, the film flows comfortably through its story and is as confident a piece of filmmaking as anything else we saw in 2023. Naturally, we all love the film and hope our readers seek out this exceptional motion picture. – C.W.


46 | Elemental

I find it a very intriguing sign of the times that the last three Pixar movies have largely centered around the fallibility of authority figures and the importance of ignoring tradition in favor of pursuing one’s personal desires. This one, arguably my favorite of the three, is a surprisingly straightforward, open-hearted plea for the acceptance of miscegenation – the sort of topic I think I can safely say you don’t see in children’s media particularly often. Inspired by director Peter Sohn’s experiences as a second-generation immigrant growing up in New York City, Elemental is refreshingly frank regarding racial tensions – a moving parable of cultural differences overcome by reaching out beyond your immediate surroundings. It is also, as Pixar once regularly managed to be, consistently humorous and imaginative in its worldbuilding. – R.J.


45 | Fallen Leaves

Longtime film festival stalwart Aki Kaurismäki has spent some forty years drilling down on his droll, deadpan style, creating some of world cinema’s most curiously charming romances in the process. Fallen Leaves might just be his best, deservedly earning him the most glowing international notices of his long career with its memorable depiction of love somehow managing to materialize under the grinding gears of late capitalism. The film is laugh-out-loud funny, delightfully odd, and brilliantly led by the beguiling performances of Jussi Vatanen and Alma Pöysti – it’s one of the finest romantic comedies of the 21st century. – R.J.


44 | Guy Ritchie’s The Covenant

A fascinating war film that is perhaps the most effective film in critiquing the Biden administration, Guy Ritchie’s The Covenant is a must see war drama. The horror of Afghanistan and the tremendous devastation caused by the United States abruptly pulling out of the region is portrayed beautifully and effectively. The most efficient use of a postscript since Clint Eastwood’s Richard Jewell, we urge each and every one of you to seek out this film. – C.W.

As Howard Hawks in his time, Guy Ritchie has proven himself the foremost cinematic practitioner in homosocial relations. In the mode of Wrath of Man, the mechanics of The Covenant are overtly Manichean. Good and evil exist, are easily identifiable, and a failure to abide by their principles is tantamount to moral suicide. The film is despite its historical setting, beyond reality and more squarely placed in the realm of fable. This attitude is exemplified in a haunting monologue from Jake Gyllenhaal who speaks about debt and sacrifice in terms more Biblical than earthly. It’s a speech that would read as schizophrenic if not for the utter sincerity in which he, and the cinematic tone Ritchie creates, holds complete faith. I’d be remiss to not mention Dar Salim’s performance which hearkens back to the classic, muscular acting of the likes of Jimmy Cagney or Humphrey Bogart where how they comport themselves, how they glance at others, speaks far more than any individual line reading. The Covenant is an exhortation towards loyalty and brotherhood in a time when such terms are used towards foul ends. -J.S.


43 | All of Us Strangers

Andrew Haigh’s latest is just overwhelming. Beautiful in all the ways we have come to expect from the filmmaker, this one just absolutely broke me. Tears reader, tears flow across my face now as I try to briefly summarize just how emotionally powerful this film is. I urge everyone to seek this magical motion picture out and hope you love All of Us Strangers as much as we did. – C.W.


42 | Napoleon

What can I say? I enjoy my three-hour Ridley Scott period war films! – C.W.


41 | Our Body

Claire Simon evokes Frederick Wiseman at his best with this empathetic, gently observational portrait of several patients attending one of Paris’s busiest gynecology wards. The film’s three leisurely-paced hours remain consistently gripping; Simon structures her film around a diverse range of procedures and consultations, rarely repeating herself as she documents the staggering array of services provided under the umbrella of women’s healthcare. Things get all the more affecting when Simon herself becomes the documentary’s focus in the film’s final third. – R.J.

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