Honorable mentions: Top Gun: Maverick (Joseph Kosinski), The Guardians of the Galaxy Holiday Special (James Gunn), Bardo: False Chronicle of a Handful of Truths (Alejandro González Iñárritu), Causeway (Lila Neugebauer)
10. Cha Cha Real Smooth, Cooper Raiff
9. The Eternal Daughter, Joanna Hogg
8. She-Hulk: Attorney at Law, Kat Coiro & Anu Valia
7. Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness, Sam Raimi
6. Elvis, Baz Luhrmann
5. Nope, Jordan Peele
4. Apollo 10½: A Space Age Childhood, Richard Linklater
3. The House, Paloma Baeza, Niki Lindroth von Bahr, James Roels, & Emma de Swaef
2. Crimes of the Future, David Cronenberg
1. Tár, Todd Field
From opening frame to final bow, “Tár” absolutely flattens us with precision. Cate Blanchett’s marriage of tempered eccentricities to evocative monologues on the significance of symphony bring her performance to stand among the very greatest to ever charge the screen, all in concert with Field’s vision. This controlled chaos of aging ideals in a new generation arrives as a masterwork that can be accurately described as perfect with the exact right amount of aptly thematic messiness to make its blood pump.
For much of its running time, "Crimes of the Future" makes it feel as though Cronenberg is but dabbling in the playground of a superficially flawed scientific concept, simply satisfied with its originality in an age of reboots and gargantuan IPs. As such it's acceptable, albeit widely comprised of weirdness for the sake of itself and made palatable by the legacy on the tin plus a ghastly Viggo Mortensen raspily evoking Udo Kier's wanton turns in Andy Warhol's "Blood for Dracula" and "Flesh for Frankenstein". When the narrative patiently coalesces, however, revealed is a true definition of modernity in cinema - a visually provocative story neighboring contemporary dwellings on the human condition yet creating with them something entirely new and ultimately engrossing, set in the hollowed bowels of a former societal zenith.
An entrancing anthology from three of the world's top names in stop motion, "The House" relates melancholy tales of the insidious inevitabilities we can't escape no matter how much we try to ignore them for our selfishly perceived betterment.
For much of its running time, "Crimes of the Future" makes it feel as though Cronenberg is but dabbling in the playground of a superficially flawed scientific concept, simply satisfied with its originality in an age of reboots and gargantuan IPs. As such it's acceptable, albeit widely comprised of weirdness for the sake of itself and made palatable by the legacy on the tin plus a ghastly Viggo Mortensen raspily evoking Udo Kier's wanton turns in Andy Warhol's "Blood for Dracula" and "Flesh for Frankenstein". When the narrative patiently coalesces, however, revealed is a true definition of modernity in cinema - a visually provocative story neighboring contemporary dwellings on the human condition yet creating with them something entirely new and ultimately engrossing, set in the hollowed bowels of a former societal zenith.
The blubbering is difficult to contain as what is essentially a feature-length montage about growing up in late 1960s America unfurls. It is a childhood that may not belong to one's specific youth, but a time capsule closely relatable to anyone who cherishes the world before the advent of the Internet and pocket supercomputers fundamentally changed our human experience. Linklater's return to rotoscoping idealizes the cascade of memories, whether painting over original footage or saturating moments from film and television many of us have imbedded in our own minds, and raises "Apollo 10½" among the generational filmmaker's very bests.
While delivering an expertly arranged blockbuster - one of the most classically satisfying in recent memory - with "Nope" Peele also weaves a fresh testimony as to why we continue to capture sequential images to tell stories, from the dawn of cinema itself through to a future unforeseeable.
Luhrmann's rending of "Elvis" is nigh repulsively stylized, often overwhelming with multiple intercut scenes taking place at once, yet altogether washes over with an intimacy that manages to maintain its sense of cultural phenomenon. Despite this manic energy, it's the more grounded third act in Vegas that truly soars, as Austin Butler rings in the most believable lead performance in a musician biography since Val Kilmer's Jim Morrison.
Through perhaps the first promising example of how Marvel intends to balance its widest audiences with those of us consuming the onslaught of streamer exclusives, Raimi's rollicking sensibilities glow. Rousingly creative, "Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness" is the joyously diverting jewel upon its franchise's banner year, and relishes a Wanda - the continuity's most rewarding character to follow - so fierce a force that only she can defeat herself.
While delivering an expertly arranged blockbuster - one of the most classically satisfying in recent memory - with "Nope" Peele also weaves a fresh testimony as to why we continue to capture sequential images to tell stories, from the dawn of cinema itself through to a future unforeseeable.
Luhrmann's rending of "Elvis" is nigh repulsively stylized, often overwhelming with multiple intercut scenes taking place at once, yet altogether washes over with an intimacy that manages to maintain its sense of cultural phenomenon. Despite this manic energy, it's the more grounded third act in Vegas that truly soars, as Austin Butler rings in the most believable lead performance in a musician biography since Val Kilmer's Jim Morrison.
Through perhaps the first promising example of how Marvel intends to balance its widest audiences with those of us consuming the onslaught of streamer exclusives, Raimi's rollicking sensibilities glow. Rousingly creative, "Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness" is the joyously diverting jewel upon its franchise's banner year, and relishes a Wanda - the continuity's most rewarding character to follow - so fierce a force that only she can defeat herself.
With the winningly meta "She-Hulk" miniseries, Marvel gives us a much-needed breath from its longer, heavier, and often stale streaming installments to reintroduce one of their history's most likable characters. Tatiana Maslany's Jen Walters is a beacon of the hero's refusal for genuinely sympathetic reasons, and deserves voluminous receptions when she returns to save someone's day in a big screen team-up.
At least one particularly eerie image cherries the cozy sundae melting before an ornate fireplace that is "The Eternal Daughter", in which Hogg narrowly dodges looming vainglory by striking a classier subdued tone evoking Freddie Francis that peaks at just the right time.
"Cha Cha Real Smooth" is a marked improvement over Raiff's woefully idyllic freshman outing. In 2020's "Shithouse", the young auteur sympathizes with his own self-identified brilliance, detailing why - according to him - every girl should fancy him a catch. With maturation he now responds to that position with the revelation he is in fact in need of personal growth only time can bring. He could still stand to roll credits a couple scenes sooner to boost impact longevity, but is now many steps closer to crafting a true breakthrough.
