Oscar Goff is the editor in chief and senior critic for Boston Hassle. He is a member of the Boston Society of Film Critics, the Online Film Critics Society, and the Boston Online Film Critics Association, and a former member of the Columbia House Video Club.

Each year-end list is something between an autopsy of the preceding year and a tarot reading. As we assemble and rank our favorite films (or albums, or whatever) of the past twelve months, we instinctively look for the patterns, some throughline which connects the films to the broader cultural context from which they sprang. While I perhaps shouldn’t admit this as a writer, the fact is that sometimes we end up reaching; sometimes a movie is just a movie, and sometimes our favorites simply don’t have very much in common (my top two films of 2023, Killers of the Flower Moon and Skinamarink, could hardly have less to do with each other and both remain motion pictures). As much as we grasp for greater meaning, some movie years don’t have much connection with real-world years.

2025 is, to put it mildly, not one of those movie years.

Whether by design or serendipity (most of them were shot last year, after all), many of my favorite films of the year are keyed into the emotions which have come to run rampant in 2025: rage, anxiety, paranoia, gallows humor. In a time when the corporate culture which owns mainstream news media (and pretty much everything else) has largely kowtowed to the current authoritarian regime with alarming speed, filmmakers seem to have woken up, addressing the various elephants in our increasingly untenable room more directly than they have in years. 2025 saw the first Hollywood studio film to address, even obliquely, the genocide in Gaza— in a film about goddamn Superman, no less. Somehow, this most expensive of all art forms has tapped into the public unrest like no other medium.

Also notable of the films of 2025: they were really, really good! Any of my runners up would have been a lock for my top ten any other year, and any one of my top four would have easily been a number one. More often than any year in recent memory I found myself exhilarated exiting the theater, excitedly texting friends and loved ones to accompany me on a second viewing. As a critic, there are times when moviegoing becomes something of a chore. I never felt that way in 2025.

Runners-up: Companion, Frankenstein, If I Had Legs I’d Kick You, The Mastermind, The Naked Gun, Nouvelle Vague, Pavements, The Phoenician Scheme, Secret Mall Apartment, Vulcanizadora, Wake Up Dead Man

10. VIDEOHEAVEN (dir. Alex Ross Perry)

I’m not going to say that VideoHeaven, a three-hour essay film about the heyday of the video rental store, is the most emotionally affecting film of the year. It is, however, the one most tailormade to elicit an emotional reaction from me specifically. Drawing from a truly mind-boggling array of video store scenes in movies and TV shows, Perry recreates the experience of browsing the aisles with your most movie-obsessed friend. To someone like me, whose cinematic education began by thumbing through those dogeared clamshell cases, watching VideoHeaven was like returning to a long-lost home. I’m sure I’ll watch it again and again— though it will feel weird not having to rewind each time. (Bafflingly, not currently streaming anywhere)

9. RESURRECTION (dir. Bi Gan)

If Bi Gan’s Resurrection consisted only of its final segment— a bravura tracking shot which outdoes in ambition the centerpiece of Bi’s Long Day’s Journey into Night by magnitudes— it would rank among the most astounding directorial achievements of the decade. But that sequence is just the cherry on top of Bi’s wildly imaginative anthology film, each portion of which packs enough invention, humanity, and jaw-dropping visuals to sustain a feature of its own. It’s all tied together by an infectious love of the movies themselves, giddily careening from one genre and era to another. Bi Gan possesses one of the greatest imaginations in contemporary cinema, and Resurrection is perhaps the most immersive journey yet into his brain. (Opens 1/2 @ Coolidge Corner Theatre)

8. THE TESTAMENT OF ANN LEE (dir. Mona Fastvold)

Mona Fastvold’s fantasia on the life of the eponymous Shaker prophetess is a difficult film to succinctly describe. I’ll be taking a deeper stab at it when it opens next month, but for now I’ll leave it as “folk horror without the horror.” All the hallmarks of that slippery subgenre are here, from the oddball religious sect to the flashes of phantasmagoric imagery; it even follows in the footsteps of The Wicker Man as a wildly unconventional musical. Yet there is no (overt) supernatural presence, and the only real acts of violence are perpetrated upon the Shakers by belligerent Central Mass townies (some things never change). Instead, Fastvold uses the story of this real, mostly harmless sect to explore the powers of belief, ritual, and community, however strange they may seem to contemporary eyes. It’s all hung on a career-best turn from Amanda Seyfried and some of the most hypnotically choreographed musical numbers this side of Busby Berkeley. Praise be. (Opens 1/16 on 70mm @ Coolidge Corner Theatre)

7. EDDINGTON (dir. Ari Aster)

It’s tough to know exactly how to feel about Eddington on first viewing. Ari Aster’s COVID western is finely tuned to piss off all comers, as intentionally divisive as the clickbait conspiracy theory content its characters passively consume. Once the shock value wears off, however, it becomes clear that Eddington is far more nuanced than it appears. Watching it a second time reveals dimensions, and even entire subplots, which may go unnoticed at first blush (Emma Stone’s character in particular exists in her own, quietly devastating counternarrative). Eddington may not be an easy watch, but with every ad I see trying to put a folksy spin on encroaching Meta datacenters, I become more convinced that it will age far better than its critics give it credit for. (Currently streaming on HBO Max)

6. WEAPONS (dir. Zach Cregger)

At this point, it seems safe to say that most people know about Aunt Gladys, the unhinged secret weapon which will likely land Zach Cregger’s ambitious horror comedy a seat at the Oscars. But Amy Madigan’s instantly iconic hagsploitation creation is only the final attraction in Cregger’s funhouse of surprises, which begins with the unforgettable image— a classroom’s worth of children running silently into the night, arms outstretched, to points unknown— before leading us down the rabbit hole of its central mystery through a labyrinthine, non-linear narrative. Cregger is clearly a student of Stephen King, adopting not only the master’s brand of suburban horror, but also the care with which he crafts his characters. By the time we meet Aunt Gladys, we’ve truly gotten to know the community affected by her actions, which makes her chaotic energy all the more disorienting. Now: who’s up for seven hot dogs? (Currently streaming on HBO Max)

5. THE SECRET AGENT (dir. Kleber Mendonça Filho)

While The Secret Agent is not the only film this year about dissidents on the run from a fascist dictatorship, it is almost certainly the only one with a subplot about a homophobic stop-motion severed leg. As in his last narrative feature, the unclassifiable siege epic Bacurau, Brazilian director Kleber Mendonça Filho mixes deadly serious social issues with a surreal and disarming (dislegging?) sense of humor. Anchoring us in the midst of all this chaos is Wagner Moura, who delivers one of the most subtle and nuanced lead performances of the year. Like getting lost in the middle of Carnival, The Secret Agent is intoxicating, slightly terrifying, and utterly unforgettable. (Now playing @ Coolidge Corner Theatre & Somerville Theatre)

4. SINNERS (dir. Ryan Coogler)

Sinners is one of those movies so good that you suddenly realize everything that’s lacking from modern blockbusters. It’s smarter, funnier, bloodier, and sexier than all the top-grossing films of the past decade combined, in addition to possessing the still-too-rare attraction of a predominantly Black all-star cast. Freed from the constraints of franchise filmmaking, director Ryan Coogler presents a film bursting with ideas, at once a thoughtful meditation on race relations and the history of music in the twentieth century and a rip-roaring vampire action film. That audiences showed up in droves to this perhaps shows that moviegoers are finally figuring out what they’ve been missing in the age of homogenized “cinematic universes” of samey sequels and reboots. Or maybe they just want to see two different Michael B. Jordans shoot up hordes of racists, vampires, and racist vampires. (Currently streaming on HBO Max)

3. MARTY SUPREME (dir. Josh Safdie)

I’ll have more— a lot more— to say about Josh Safdie’s solo directorial debut later this week when it opens in theaters. For now, I’ll just say that Safdie has crafted perhaps the most appealingly scuzzy sports picture ever made, with a never-better Timothee Chalamet playing a hustler so manic and intense that he manages to make ping pong feel dangerous. Marty Supreme is one of those films that never slows down to let you catch your breath, so furiously, mercilessly funny that you’re never quite sure if you should be laughing at all. Yet there’s a humanity to it too, which makes you feel for this character even at his absolute worst. It is also perhaps the first 1950s period piece whose characters ghost ride the whip, and that ain’t nothing. (Opens 12/25 @ Coolidge Corner Theatre & Somerville Theatre)

2. BUGONIA (dir. Yorgos Lanthimos)

This is the third consecutive year in which a collaboration between Yorgos Lanthimos and Emma Stone has cracked my top five, and while I hate to repeat myself, the fact is that no creative partnership is turning out such daring, gleefully perverse work. Bugonia has the added benefit of falling into a genre for which I am an unabashed sucker: Sleuth, but make it sick. Bugonia is largely a three-hander, with Stone squaring off against Jesse Plemons (terrifying) and newcomer Aidan Delbis (heartbreaking). It’s also one of the most cuttingly funny films made yet about our current cultural loggerheads, its humans-vs-”aliens” conceit the logical conclusion to a national discourse built on flame wars and memes. It all builds to the most hysterical ending of the year, one which would be utterly depressing if it weren’t so screamingly funny (okay, it can be both). During my second viewing, the woman sitting in front of me watches the entire second half of the film with her head cradled in her hands. If that doesn’t sell you on Bugonia, it’s probably safe to say you’re not the film’s target audience. (Currently available for premium digital rental)

1. ONE BATTLE AFTER ANOTHER (dir. Paul Thomas Anderson)

You knew this was coming, right? Paul Thomas Anderson’s Pynchonian action epic has solidified critical consensus like no other film in recent memory, topping virtually every notable top ten and best-of list thus far (the one major exception, ironically, being the Boston Society of Film Critics, of which I am a voting member). There are plenty of reasons for this: its ripped-from-the-headlines vision of fascist troops descending upon American streets; its status as the film likely to at long last coronate one of our best working filmmakers; its few small beers. But none of this would matter if One Battle After Another were not, quite simply, every bit as good as everyone says; it’s thrilling, funny, and urgent, filled with scenes and characters destined for the cinematic canon, with a subversive streak which is becoming vanishingly rare in mainstream pop culture. All together now: Green Acres, Beverly Hillbillies, and Hooterville Junction… (Currently streaming on HBO Max)

Watch this space for more year-enders from the Hassle’s staff of dogged cinephiles!