2025: A Year at the Movies

There’s something revealing about looking back at a year of watching films. The choices we make, the ratings we give – they form a portrait of where we’ve been emotionally, what stories we needed, and what cinema continues to offer us. This year brought a compelling mix of contemporary releases, rediscovered classics, and regional cinema that reaffirmed why we keep returning to the screen.

The Phenomenon That Stopped Everything: Adolescence

If there’s one title that dominated conversations this year, it’s Netflix’s Adolescence. This four-part limited series earned your highest rating and for good reason—it’s being hailed as one of the best things Netflix has ever produced. The series employs authentic single-take episodes (no stitched-together shots, according to the cinematographer), creating an immersive, almost unbearable intensity as it explores a 13-year-old accused of murder. Owen Cooper’s performance has been called one of the finest child performances ever captured on film. It’s the kind of viewing experience that demands you sit with your emotions long after the credits roll—essential viewing that elevates the limited series format to genuine cinema.

Del Toro’s Long-Awaited Monster: Frankenstein

For decades, Guillermo del Toro has been the filmmaker who asks us to find compassion for monsters. With Frankenstein, he finally brings his lifelong obsession with Mary Shelley’s creation to the screen, and the result is nothing short of magnificent. Oscar Isaac and Jacob Elordi deliver transformative performances, with Elordi nearly unrecognizable under practical makeup that recalls del Toro’s signature handcrafted aesthetic. Mia Goth’s ethereal presence and Kate Hawley’s stunning costume work deserve their own exhibition. The film carries del Toro’s Mexican heritage in its DNA—death isn’t feared here but contemplated with the reverence of Día de los Muertos. It’s a fairytale for adults, gorgeous and gory, with a heart that beats beneath its Gothic exterior.

The F1 Film That Captures the Sport’s Soul: Rush

With Formula 1 content everywhere these days, it took until October to finally experience Ron Howard’s Rush—and what a revelation it was. The Hunt-Lauda rivalry of 1976 becomes a meditation on what drives people to risk everything. Daniel Brühl’s portrayal earned the real Niki Lauda’s endorsement for its accuracy, while Chris Hemsworth delivered what many consider his finest performance as the flamboyant James Hunt. The racing sequences don’t just show speed—they make you feel the danger, the precision, the thin line between glory and catastrophe. For anyone who feels the pull of motorsport, this isn’t just a good film—it’s the definitive F1 movie.

The Dark Comedy That Refuses Easy Answers: Three Billboards

Closing out November, Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri proved Martin McDonagh’s mastery of tragicomedy remains unmatched. Frances McDormand’s Mildred Hayes channels grief into fury with billboards demanding justice for her murdered daughter, setting off a chain of events that challenges everyone’s moral certainties. Sam Rockwell’s transformation from despicable to sympathetic earned his Oscar, while Woody Harrelson brings unexpected warmth to a conflicted lawman. The film refuses to judge its characters simply, instead presenting deeply flawed humans navigating impossible situations—a portrait of anger, forgiveness, and the impossibility of neat resolutions.

Classic Rewatches: Hitchcock and Kurosawa

The year brought essential encounters with the masters. Rear Window confirmed Hitchcock’s genius—how does a film confined almost entirely to one apartment generate such unbearable tension? The answer lies in Jimmy Stewart’s voyeuristic photographer, Grace Kelly’s impeccable presence, and Hitchcock’s understanding that what we imagine is always more terrifying than what we see.

Rashomon proved equally revelatory. Kurosawa’s meditation on subjective truth feels more relevant than ever in an age of competing narratives. Its structure has been imitated countless times, but the original still cuts deepest.

Primal Fear and the Art of the Legal Thriller

Edward Norton’s debut in Primal Fear remains one of cinema’s great introductions. His transformation from stammering altar boy to something far more sinister showcases the kind of performance that announces a major talent. Richard Gere’s slick defense attorney provides the perfect foil, but this is Norton’s show—and watching it in 2025, knowing his subsequent career, only heightens the appreciation for what he accomplished here.

The Passion and the Power of Faith

The Passion of the Christ demands your full attention. Mel Gibson’s unflinching depiction of Christ’s final hours remains as visceral and controversial as ever—but also deeply moving for those open to its spiritual intensity. Jim Caviezel’s physical commitment to the role transcends mere acting.

The Malayalam Treasures

This year brought wonderful returns to Malayalam cinema’s golden age and its contemporary renaissance. Lankadahanam (1971) and Panchavadi (1973) showcase the artistry that defined South Indian cinema’s classical period. Meanwhile, Officer on Duty earned perfect marks among 2025 releases, continuing Malayalam cinema’s remarkable ability to craft compelling narratives.

Superhero Cinema

Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice earned five stars this year—a bold rating for a film that divided audiences upon release. Zack Snyder’s operatic vision of these iconic characters deserves reconsideration: the warehouse fight sequence alone stands as one of the best Batman action scenes ever filmed, and Ben Affleck’s weary Dark Knight brings genuine gravitas to the role.

Superman (2025) brought the Man of Steel into the current superhero landscape with strong results, while The Fantastic 4: First Steps and Thunderbolts* added solid entries to the Marvel lineup.

The Short Films That Haunt

A notable trend this year: short film discoveries. The Smiling Man, Other Side of the Box, and Man on a Train—all earned perfect ratings. These compact nightmares prove that horror doesn’t need two hours to get under your skin. Sometimes five minutes is all it takes.

The Action Pleasures

The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare delivered exactly what a Guy Ritchie WWII film promises: Henry Cavill and Alan Ritchson slicing through Nazis with style, Eiza González stealing scenes in stunning 1940s costumes, and enough irreverent action to make two hours fly by. It’s not trying to be profound—it’s trying to be fun, and it succeeds magnificently.

Warrior (2011) provided late-year emotional devastation through MMA, proving Tom Hardy and Joel Edgerton can make you care deeply about fictional brothers pummeling each other in a cage.

The Documentary Deep Dives

True crime and documentary content found its way into the viewing log consistently—AUM: The Cult at the End of the World, Trainwreck: Balloon Boy, and various installments in the Trainwreck series provided those rabbit-hole viewing sessions we all know too well.

Special Mention (Series): Severance and Pluribus

If 2025 proved anything, it’s that Apple TV has become the home of prestige science fiction television. Two series dominated the conversation this year, both exploring what it means to be human when that very humanity is under assault.

Severance returned after a nearly three-year wait that only intensified anticipation. The wait was worth it. Ben Stiller and Dan Erickson’s workplace thriller picked up exactly where the jaw-dropping Season 1 finale left off, with Mark Scout (Adam Scott) having just discovered the truth about his severed existence. The second season expanded the mythology of Lumon Industries while deepening its satirical bite on corporate culture—the meaningless tasks, the cult-like devotion to founders, the way companies claim to own not just our time but our very consciousness.

The series became Apple TV’s most-watched show ever, surpassing even Ted Lasso. The Letterboxd community embraced it as essential viewing, with reviewers comparing it favorably to The Truman Show and Black Mirror while noting it might surpass both. The production design alone—those endless white corridors, the retro-futurist aesthetic, the goat room (yes, a room full of grazing goats supervised by Gwendoline Christie)—creates a world both sterile and deeply unsettling. Adam Scott continues to deliver career-best work, embodying the split between his “innie” and “outie” with subtle precision. The question driving the series remains hauntingly relevant: In a world that demands we separate our work selves from our true selves, are we losing something essential about what makes us human?

Then came Pluribus, Vince Gilligan’s return to television after the Breaking Bad/Better Call Saul universe. Where Severance asks what happens when we’re divided, Pluribus asks what happens when everyone else is unified—and you’re the only one left out.

Rhea Seehorn stars as Carol Sturka, a fantasy author who may be the most miserable person on Earth—and suddenly, she’s one of only 13 people immune to “the Joining,” an extraterrestrial virus that transforms humanity into a peaceful, content hive mind. The premise sounds like invasion horror, but Gilligan flips the script: the “Others” aren’t trying to destroy Carol. They’re unfailingly polite, accommodating, even loving. They just want her to join them. The horror isn’t in their aggression—it’s in their sincerity.

The series broke Apple TV’s viewership record for a drama launch, surpassing even Severance Season 2. Critics have awarded it a 98% on Rotten Tomatoes, praising its originality and Seehorn’s performance as a woman whose defining trait—her misery—becomes humanity’s last defense against enforced happiness. Gilligan draws from The Twilight Zone and Invasion of the Body Snatchers while crafting something entirely new: a meditation on whether contentment can be a form of oppression, and whether the right to be unhappy is worth defending.

Together, these two series represent television at its most ambitious. Severance interrogates the divide between work and life; Pluribus questions the divide between self and collective. Both trust their audiences with complex ideas, refuse easy answers, and prove that science fiction remains our most powerful genre for examining the present moment. In a year full of excellent viewing, they stand as the crown jewels of prestige television.

Looking Back at 2025

What emerges from this year’s viewing is a portrait of range and openness. From Kurosawa to superhero spectacle, from Malayalam classics to Netflix limited series, from F1 drama to Gothic horror—the thread connecting these experiences is a willingness to engage fully with whatever cinema offers.

The five-star films of 2025 share one quality: they don’t hold back. Adolescence forces you to confront uncomfortable truths about youth and violence. Frankenstein asks you to love a monster. Rush puts you in the cockpit at 200 mph. Three Billboards refuses to let anyone off the hook.

That’s what great cinema does. It doesn’t play it safe. And neither, apparently, does this viewer.