A Mob drama so reviled by the critics that I felt a touch embarrassed every time I talked about how much I liked it. But it’s seriously good! What seemed to push everyone’s buttons was Robert De Niro, having portrayed about 100 gangsters in his life, now deigning to play two of them…at once. In this true-life war of the New York underworld, he embodies a pair of lifelong frenemies: Frank Costello, who is courtly and political, trying to live in the real world, and also Vito Genovese, the sociopathic firecracker who doesn’t want to be controlled by anyone. The reviewers treated this as a joke, as if it were “GoodFellas” meets “The Patty Duke Show,” but just watch what De Niro brings off; he creates a master class in the nuances of Mob psychology. The movie, directed with straight-ahead gusto by Barry Levinson, was written by “GoodFellas’” Nicholas Pileggi, and it’s one of the only films to dig behind the façade of the gangsters you used to see in tabloid-newspaper photographs — the old men in glasses and fedoras who ruled the Italian American underworld in the ’50s and ’60s. “The Alto Knights” was a big enough bomb to indicate that this kind of Mob movie has come to its end as a genre, but if you’ve been a connoisseur of it, you owe it to yourself to see what amounts to an essential gangster chronicle. — Owen Gleiberman

Daisy Morris (Lili Reinhart) has one of the unhealthiest jobs imaginable. Not inhaling asbestos all day or scraping toxic sludge from public spaces, but not all that different either. As a content moderator, she’s part of a team that reviews violent and offensive videos online, which means spending soul-sucking hours watching the worst the internet has to offer (vile clips with names like “baby in a blender”). There’s only so much someone in her position can take.

Confronting ideas of free speech our founding fathers couldn’t possibly have imagined, Uta Briesewitz’s under-the-radar SXSW discovery presents the female version of an angry Paul Schrader character. Think Robert De Niro in “Taxi Driver” or George C. Scott in “Hardcore”: dudes who flip out when confronted by how dark the world can get. Here we have a seemingly level-headed woman who sees what looks like a snuff film, and rather than simply deleting it, she resolves to track down the sickos responsible. — Peter Debruge

Have you ever experienced a film that has what appears to be a cloying setup, and a seemingly deeply annoying major character precipitating all the action … that then turns out to be funny, moving and maybe even profoundly truthful, in spite of all those red flags? That is “The Ballad of Wallis Island,” one of the very best contemporary films about music, although that’s hardly all it’s concerned with. Tim Key plays a social misfit so alienating, it makes sense that he has exiled himself to a Welsh island, the remote spot where he uses his riches to try to force a reunion between a famous male-female music duo — wonderfully played by Carey Mulligan and co-writer Tom Basden — who are more deeply estranged than Stevie and Lindsey. What it finally has to say about fandom, musical harmony and the frailty of mismatched relationships feels so real, you may learn never to trust first impressions again. — Chris Willman

Tracie Laymon’s debut feature won both the jury and audience awards at last year’s SXSW Film Festival but only made it into theaters a year later, in March 2025. And it’s easy to see why festival audiences all over the country were charmed by this warm-hearted tale based on the director’s own story. Barbie Ferreira proves her star power as Lily, a young woman cut off by her toxic biological dad (French Stewart, playing against type), who finds an even better father figure in a man who shares his name, played by John Leguizamo. Both Lily and Bob are broken and damaged in different ways, and their healing journey together is funny, sly and sensitive. It’s currently on Hulu; here’s hoping more audiences discover it. — Jenelle Riley

Of all the crimes captured on screen this year, none is more upsetting than the senseless attack on an entire flock of sheep — a stealthy late-night operation that leaves the poor animals bleeding to death in the dark and their owner Michael with a head full of fury (he’s played by Christopher Abbott, infinitely more intimidating than he was in “Wolf Man”). What kind of monster could have cut off all his livestock’s legs, and to what end? Michael interprets this sick act as the latest salvo in a long-running feud with his neighbor (Paul Ready), who married his ex and is now stealing his sheep. To complicate things, the prickly couple has a daft, loose-cannon son with a history of bad decisions (the latest inspired use of Barry Keoghan’s feral energy).

Writer-director Christopher Andrews’ tough, terrifically acted gut punch confronts the cycle of pain in this rural Irish community, barely scraping by as it is. Poverty and ignorance butt up against cycles of anger and retribution — a common theme in Irish life and literature, afforded new angles in this doomed portrait of two rivals dragging one another down, when their best hope for survival ought to be teaming up and working together. — Peter Debruge

Austin Butler plays Hank, a bartender who is left to look after his neighbor’s cat. Except that his neighbor is a punk rocker who is in trouble with gangsters, and Hank gets caught in the middle. Butler gets you rooting for Hank, who is something of a screwup thanks to a traumatic past. Director Darren Aronofsky sets the action in 1990s New York City, staging every scene with authentic grit and delivering one of the best action sequences of the year: a car chase through Flushing Meadows! — Jazz Tangcay

Kristen Stewart’s directorial debut adapts Lidia Yuknavitch’s devastating memoir — about her salvation through swimming while coping with addiction and sexual abuse — in a raw, punk-rock way. With a revelatory Imogen Poots as the film’s anchor, Stewart employs uncomfortable close-ups, a searing script and clever editing to deliver a film with a truly singular vision that simultaneously recalls the greats. As Variety’s Owen Gleiberman wrote in his review: “Stewart stages the movie like a numinous documentary that’s being lived and remembered at the same time. The drama is pointillistic, the way it was in ‘The Tree of Life’ — the poetry of images that illuminate and scald.” Despite premiering to rave reviews out of Cannes, it took three months for the film to score U.S. distribution, and it won’t release wide until Jan. 9. Still, if this is how Stewart chose to start her directing career — brave, unabashed, with a true artist’s touch — we can’t wait to see what’s next. — Ellise Shafer

The kind of romantic oddity that studios don’t make often enough. It’s clever, melancholy and unexpectedly moving. Director David Freyne reimagines the afterlife as a waiting area of reckoning, where Elizabeth Olsen’s conflicted heroine must choose which love defines her forever, opposite soulful turns from Miles Teller and Callum Turner. The premise is playful, but the execution cuts deeper, blending screwball rhythms with existential ache. Da’Vine Joy Randolph nearly steals the film with a scene-lifting supporting turn. The tenderness beneath the chuckles lingers in a film unafraid to ask whether love is defined by passion, comfort or timing, even beyond death. — Clayton Davis

Basically “Bullet Train” on a plane. Josh Hartnett has a ton of fun playing a washed-out ex-Secret Service agent who must keep a hacker alive, despite the fact they’re on a commercial flight full of hitmen. What it lacks in originality it makes up for with inventive fight sequences, which are frequent, fun and flashy, taking full advantage of all the items on a flight that could make great weapons in a pinch. After all, who doesn’t want to watch a manically grinning Hartnett run around an airplane with a chainsaw, taking out bad guys? — William Earl

The managers of a corrupt conservatorship that preys on vulnerable seniors make a deadly error in judgement when they mess with the wrong grandma in this gritty revenge thriller, starring longtime character actress Dale Dickey in the title role. With her gravel-soaked voice, dead-eyed scowl, and steel-fisted resolve, Dickey redefines the classic noir antihero, playing a ruthless survivor who’s part June Squibb, part Charles Bronson. Set against the harsh industrial underbelly of an unnamed city in winter, writer-director Karl R. Hearne’s film confidently captures the bleak vibe of a Jim Thompson–style pulp novel, where double-crosses and betrayals hit harder than a .44 Magnum at close range. Packed with simmering threats, suspenseful showdowns, and sudden bursts of cathartic violence, “The G” is a pitch-black crime gem, perfect for fans of “Emily the Criminal” and early Paul Schrader. — Matthew Chernov

This propulsive two-hander stars Rosamund Pike and Matthew Rhys as a couple racing to a late-night auto accident caused by their daughter. It mainly takes place in the cab of the car, with the parents on speakerphone with their daughter during the agonizingly long drive. Creating great tension from a confined space, Pike and Rhys are compelling as they learn in real time how far the other is willing to go to protect their child. Warning: The ending takes a huge left turn that might leave less adventurous audiences in the cold after a wonderfully taut ride. — William Earl

Directed and co-written by Jon Avnet (“Fried Green Tomatoes”), this faith-based contemporary Western drama about family, sacrifice, and getting back up when you’re knocked down plays like a cross between “Rocky Balboa” and a Professional Bull Riders competition. No stranger to the cowboy genre, “Yellowstone” star Neal McDonough delivers a muscular, heartfelt performance as a trail-worn rodeo champ who climbs back in the saddle one last time to earn prize money on the tournament circuit when his grandson’s medical care costs skyrocket. The role fits the rugged McDonough like a beloved pair of work boots, and you can practically smell the Stetson cologne wafting off the screen. As for the film’s immersive bull riding sequences, they’re shot with vivid intensity by DP Denis Lenoir and scored with gusto by composer Jeff Russo (“Alien: Earth”). Sincere, uplifting and corny in the best way possible, “The Last Rodeo” is a dad movie that might make mom shed a few tears too. — Matthew Chernov

After Thanksgiving, I will watch pretty much any Christmas movie on Netflix, and admittedly the bar is low. But they’re often cozy fun, and this year,I especially enjoyed the charming “A Merry Little Ex-Mas,” led by Alicia Silverstone. Yet I was not prepared for “Jingle Bell Heist” to be genuinely, truly…good? Olivia Holt and Connor Swindells play two strangers, Sophia and Nick, who meet by happenstance in London. Since they both desperately need money, they decide to rob the department store where Sophia works at Christmastime. 

“Jingle Bell Heist” is boosted by the strong performances of its leads, as well as supporting turns by Peter Serafinowicz as the store’s villainous owner and Lucy Punch as his not-to-be-underestimated wife. As a rom-com, “Jingle Bell Heist” delights; as a heist movie, it’s good too! I did not see its twists coming, plus you get to see London during Christmas. Michael Fimognari directed from Abby McDonald’s script, which was actually on the 2022 Black List (Amy Reed co-wrote the eventual movie). Curl up and watch “Jingle Bell Heist,” and you won’t be sorry! — Kate Aurthur

The best role that the great Patricia Clarkson has had in a long time, and she makes it indelible. In this true-life whistleblower drama, Clarkson plays Lilly Ledbetter, a homespun Alabama wife and mother who went to work at the local Goodyear Tire & Rubber Company plant. She climbed the managerial ladder, only to keep getting knocked back down, and after 20 years she learned that she was making half of what her male colleagues did. So she took on the system, and took it right to the top (but, as the movie demonstrates, that’s now like climbing a pole greased with oil). The way Clarkson plays Ledbetter, in shopworn bangs, with a horse-sense Southern directness, there’s nothing about her that signals righteous “activist.” Even when her battle reaches the halls of power in Washington, the beauty of Clarkson’s performance is that she makes Lilly plainspoken, dogged, stubborn in her decency, and a woman in way over her head. She makes her one of us. “Lilly” opens our eyes to how fighting the power is always more possible than the power wants you to think. — Owen Gleiberman     

Few films in 2025 matched the white-knuckle immediacy of “The Lost Bus,” a survival thriller that refuses to sensationalize heroism while still honoring it. Dramatizing the true story of a school bus driver and a teacher who guided 22 children through the 2018 Camp Fire, the film is as harrowing and humane. Matthew McConaughey delivers one of his most grounded performances as an ordinary man rising under impossible pressure, while America Ferrera brings fierce compassion and resolve to a teacher who will not abandon her students. Shot with visceral urgency and anchored by practical effects, the film engulfs the viewer in smoke, panic and resolve — a gutting reminder of courage amid catastrophe. — Clayton Davis

A love letter to the New York City borough for which it’s named, “Love, Brooklyn,” invokes the spirit of classic ’90s romances like “Love and Basketball” and “Love Jones,” while accurately depicting modern dating woes. André Holland stars as Roger, who suffers from writer’s block as he attempts to capture Brooklyn’s changing cultural landscape for a story. His creative impasse is linked to his indecision about his romantic relationships, as he bounces between a friendship with his ex (Nicole Beharie), a fine-art gallerist, and a situationship with Nicole (DeWanda Wise), a widow with a young daughter. In her feature debut, director Rachael Abigail Holder crafts a charming movie that underscores the bittersweet beauty of change and how one must let go to embrace a new beginning. — Angelique Jackson

Army veteran Kyle Hausmann-Stokes’ activist-minded debut has serious Frank Capra vibes, confronting the way society doesn’t do enough to help those who’ve served their country to acclimate back to civilian life. It’s been a bumpy adjustment for Merit (Sonequa Martin-Green), who blames herself for the death of fellow soldier Zoe (Natalie Morales). During their tour of duty in Afghanistan, the pair swore they’d always have each other’s backs. Now Merit is haunted by her guilt. As vivacious a ghost as you’re likely to meet, Zoe pops up at inopportune times, making jokes and crashing group therapy sessions (overseen by Morgan Freeman, one of multiple real-life vets in the cast). The powerful drama finds an original way to remind that more U.S. soldiers die of suicide than in combat, lending an urgency to the idea that it’s our collective responsibility to support those like Merit, who defend us at great personal cost. — Peter Debruge

South Korean genre hits like “Squid Game” and “Parasite” have proven so popular in recent years that audiences no longer need convincing to check out some of the country’s most compelling new exports — though Hur Jin-ho’s tense, morally thorny drama slipped quietly under the radar this spring. Track it down, and the film’s guaranteed to grab you from the first scene, in which an inexplicably furious sports car driver smashes into an SUV. That opening act of aggression sets the stage for all kinds of heightened emotions, inadvertently pitting two brothers against one another: One’s an attorney who’s been hired to represent the driver, while the other is a doctor fighting to save the injured girl who narrowly survived the accident. But that’s just the beginning of the movie’s many ethical dilemmas, as the siblings’ teenage children have committed an inexplicable crime that makes this anything-but-normal family every bit as compelling as the characters in Netflix’s “Adolescence” (which is cinematic enough to merit an honorable mention on this mid-year list). — Peter Debruge

You may have forgotten about “Novocaine,” released way back in March, but it’s a worthy “John Wick” imitator starring a charmingly awkward Jack Quaid as a man who can’t feel pain. It’s a simple but effective premise: Boy meets girl, girl gets kidnapped, boy saves her. But in this case boy clumsily murders legions of gangsters and literally feels no pain due to a rare disorder. That means he doesn’t notice knives piercing his body, his hand burning on a stove or his bladder filling up to burst (don’t worry, he sets an hourly timer to remember to relieve himself). It’s a surprisingly solid action movie, buoyed by Quaid’s performance and his painless chemistry with Amber Midthunder that drives the revenge story. — Jordan Moreau

Molly Gordon has shown off her comedy chops in movies like “Good Boys” and “Theater Camp” — plus, she can bring the drama, as seen in “The Bear” — and “Oh, Hi” combines all her talent into one hilariously unraveled performance. Opposite Logan Lerman, she plays one half of a new couple who suddenly realizes that they have different outlooks on their relationship after Lerman is handcuffed to the bed in a night of kinky sex on a weekend getaway. Gordon tries everything to convince him to stay with her, from brewing a love potion to interpretive dance, until things take an even more drastic turn in this darkly tinged yet somehow still relatable rom-com. — Jordan Moreau

Male adolescence as a horror story is taken to new levels when a 12-year-old boy named Ben (Everett Blunck) attends a water polo camp in the summer of 2003. While generally kind, Ben finds himself joining up with the camp bullies (led by an unsettling Kayo Martin) to focus their disdain on Eli (Kenny Rasmussen), whose body is covered in a strange rash. Urban legends about how “the plague” is contagious run amok, as Ben finds himself torn between his humanity and the desire to fit in. Writer-director Charlie Polinger’s debut feature will expand wider in January, and it deserves to find an audience. — Jenelle Riley

The film began with Frank Shyong’s 2017 L.A. Times article “A dying mother’s plan: Buy a gun. Rent a hotel room. Kill her son.” But Marilyn Fu’s script goes beyond the headline to present a tender portrait of a mother faced with an impossible choice. Lucy Liu is stellar as Irene, a Chinese immigrant whose struggles with a schizophrenic son (newcomer Lawrence Shou) intensify when she learns that she has terminal cancer. Mental health is not something discussed regularly, particularly in her community, and what unravels next in director Erin Lin’s feature debut is harrowing and all too timely. — Jenelle Riley

Move over, James Cameron. The year’s most creative use of visual effects could be found in a kids’ movie about a family that has lost its matriarch. Daughter Amber (Bianca Belle) channels her feelings into fanciful and sometimes frightening doodles, which come to life and start to terrorize the locals, forcing Amber, her older brother (Kue Lawrence) and their dad (Tony Hale) to confront the feelings they’ve been avoiding. Director Seth Worley has come up with a creative — and highly teachable — concept for his debut feature, using imaginative effects to impart a valuable lesson about dealing with grief and other strong emotions. In short, keeping such feelings in can be more dangerous than letting them out through art and other healthy means of processing. The live-action/CG-animated hybrid channels the spirit of “Jumanji,” by way of “The Babadook,” but with something important to say. — Peter Debruge

If there’s anything the forces of MAGA are right about, it’s that the entertainment industry doesn’t exactly devote a lot of time and energy to portraying what’s on their minds. But Christian Swegal’s revelatory drama does. It stars Nick Offerman, in a performance that’s never less than stunning, as a sovereign citizens leader who preaches a radical idea of what the government can and cannot do. A local guru of the new anti-institutional militancy, he travels through the heartland, presenting his seminar in bingo parlors and dingy conference rooms, preaching to small-town types who feel like they’ve been raked over the coals. The movie never references President Trump, but it doesn’t have to. It’s about something larger than Trump — how desperation and nihilism and extremism seeped into Middle America, giving rise to a new politics of righteous despair. The movie is a real-world thriller that’s also a riveting character study that’s also a portrait of the place where the reactionary spirit of today descends into obsession. — Owen Gleiberman     

Dakota Johnson is the secret weapon of this entertaining contemporary couples comedy from director Michael Angelo Covino (“The Climb”). When life coach Ashley (Adria Arjona) decides that she wants a divorce from good guy Carey (Kyle Marvin), he goes to stay with his wealthy friends Julie (Johnson) and Paul (Covino), only to discover that they have an open marriage. Amid several brawls, glimpses of Carey’s manhood and numerous preposterous situations involving cheating and casual hook-ups, there is dialogue amusing enough to play like a glossy version of what Eric Rohmer or Hal Hartley might have come up with these days. — Pat Saperstein

Cillian Murphy won the Oscar for playing a historical icon in “Oppenheimer,” but it’s his introspective, humane portrait of a teacher at a boarding school for teen boys with behavioral challenges that might be his greatest work. While newcomer Jay Lycurgo won a British Independent Film Award for his breakthrough performance as Shy, a troubled but relatable student, the rest of the movie deserved more attention. In America, Netflix had its hands full with a starry awards season slate and perhaps underestimated how powerful this little indie film would be — though after the success of “Adolescence” on the TV side, you’d think they would know better. — Jenelle Riley

Nicolas Cage plays a man pushed to his limit in this allegorical tale. Cage, as the unnamed title character, is determined to catch a wave on an Aussie beach, but it’s the territory of a violent gang led by Scally (the late Julian McMahon). The Surfer begins to lose his belongings, his dignity and eventually his sanity in the pursuit of settling the score with the gang, until he is nearly indistinguishable from the destitute people wandering the shore. A rip-roaring examination of how calamity can be just a few choices away, “The Surfer” plays like a hazy, sun-drenched nightmare. — William Earl

In James Sweeney’s disarmingly funny second feature, two men meet in an emotional support group for those who have lost an identical sibling. That seems as good a place as any to talk about codependency, although it’s the even more universal subject of loneliness that animates Sweeney’s insightful coping comedy. The writer-director, who does not have a twin in real life, has spent some serious time thinking about the special bond twins share, weaving those ideas into a script that has a few sick twists up its sleeve, including a highly unconventional “bromance” involving the transference of an erotic fixation from one sibling to another (both played by a startlingly versatile Dylan O’Brien). Sweeney recognizes that some of his laughs could be in poor taste, but isn’t shy about casting himself as a weirdo, when such discomfort can point the way to deeper truths. It’s a tonal high-wire act, to say the least, as Sweeney balances unconscionable behavior with an earnest look at bereavement, anxiety and anger management. — Peter Debruge

The fraudulent seduction of reality TV. The toxic backbiting of social media. The false god of fame — not the old-fashioned kind but the new fame, the lusty fickle kind that can last 15 seconds. These are all fundamental forces in the way we live now, especially for those who are young. Astonishingly, though, the drama that has come closest to putting its finger on the dynamic of what it’s like to grow up in the media-splintered image culture of the 21st century isn’t an American film. It’s French, and is the first feature written and directed by Agatha Riedinger. Telling the story of Liane (Malou Khebizi), a 19-year-old glam trainwreck in the town of Fréjus, Riedinger portrays the collective soul of troubled youth with a convulsive power that the François Truffaut of “The 400 Blows” would have understood. As sociology, “Wild Diamond” is pinpoint incisive, yet what puts the film over is how moving it is. It gazes, with total empathy, upon its heroine’s coarsened and trashed humanity, separating the sinner from the sin, even as it holds both up to the light. — Owen Gleiberman