Change was the word of the year for movies in 2023. Two labor strikes brought about monumental change in the way movie studios operate, and with it, the way people perceive the movie industry. But despite all the change, 2023 saw a number of incredible films from established voices like Martin Scorsese, Greta Gerwig, Christopher Nolan, Hayao Miyazaki, and Yorgos Lanthimos. And, just like every year, the year in film was littered with exciting new voices that give us hope for the future of cinema. I don’t know yet if 2023 will go down as an all-time great movie year, but we shouldn’t lose sight of the fact that almost every big ticket release lived up to expectations. Whittling down this list to only ten films was not easy.

Honorable Mentions (in Alphabetical Order):

• Barbie
• BlackBerry
• Bottoms
• The Creator
• Flora and Son
• Greener Pastures
• The Holdovers
• The Killer
• Killers of the Flower Moon
• Past Lives
• Poor Things
• The Promised Land
• The Zone of Interest

As I implemented last year, my Top 10 consists of a “Movie of the Year” along with an unranked, alphabetical list of the remaining nine. So without further ado, here are my ten favorite films of 2023.

Special Mention: Big Studio Comedies

There’s been several movie genres that have gone by the wayside in this century, but the big studio comedy has been one of the biggest victims. Sure, streaming services have plenty of comedies with A-list stars in their libraries, but there’s nothing quite like seeing a big, adult-oriented comedy in a crowded room. 2023 saw perhaps the most solid slate of studio-backed comedies return to theaters, like No Hard Feelings, Bottoms, Barbie, and Strays – even Wonka – among others. Regardless of their quality, some of the best theater-going experiences I had all year were seeing the above-mentioned films and reveling in the joy of laughing along with a crowd. Here’s hoping the trend continues in 2024 and we’re treated to more non-IP based comedic offerings.

20 Days in Mariupol

I probably won’t ever re-watch 20 Days in Mariupol, and that’s not a criticism. The documentary is easily the hardest film I’ve sat through – and that’s exactly the point. Director Mstyslav Chernov may have begun filming simply as a way to document the horrific tragedies during the opening days of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, but the film has more on its mind than a simple historical record. Like the way Chernov’s own footage could be spun into Russia’s disinformation campaign to downplay the human rights violations they’re responsible for. 20 Days in Mariupol is a powerful film that transcends the borders and situations that it depicts, showing that the truth is our most vital asset in times of war.

Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret.

I went into 2023 knowing I’d likely be won over by films from major filmmakers, and projects with exciting casts. It’s safe to say that I did not have Kelly Fremon Craig’s adaptation of Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret. anywhere on my list. Aside from being an unexpected delight, the film is a warm, funny, insightful look at change. Change in our bodies, yes, but change in mentality. Change as a process that never really ends once you hit adulthood. The cast of old, young, new, and veteran actors is one of the best of the year, but Rachel McAdams gives one of the standout performances of the year. Is Margaret a perfect film? Maybe not, but it’s one that radiates sincerity in a genre that often turns cynical. It’s a film that I’ll likely return to throughout the years as one of the best in the coming-of-age genre.

Asteroid City

Are we alone in the universe? What’s the point of making art – making anything – if we’re all just insignificant beings floating along in the infinite void of the cosmos? That Wes Anderson can tackle such ideas while making one of the funniest comedies of the year, and one of the best films of his long career, is a testament to his abilities as a writer and director. As an inherently creative person who undertook a daunting creative project this year, Asteroid City resonated beyond a story level and burrowed deep within me. 2023 was the year when I went from a casual observer of Anderson’s films to someone who truly appreciates his work on a thematic level, and Asteroid City is a brand new statement that still utilizes his trademark technical prowess. Wes Anderson may be an acquired taste to the masses, but his latest film is more evidence that he’s one of our best, most original filmmakers working today.

Maestro

Bradley Cooper’s second directorial feature is less palatable than A Star is Born, but it’s no less smartly handled. Biopics are among my least favorite film genres, but Maestro takes a nuanced approach to the life of Leonard Bernstein. Carrie Mulligan gives a lived-in performance as Bernstein’s wife Felicia, inhabiting her with energy and sadness, and Cooper as Leonard exudes charisma but shows that a life hidden is not a life worth living. But Maestro excels because it touches less on Bernstein’s career and more on his relationships, and the often tumultuous nature of passion. Cooper steps up his game considerably in front of and behind the camera, making the film a sweeping, operatic melody that handles all of its subject’s shifting moods and mindsets. I don’t know if Maestro is as joyously rewatchable as A Star is Born, but it’s no less of an achievement, and one that’s worth celebrating.

May December

I initially watched Todd Haynes’ May December more out of a sense of obligation than genuine excitement. But I was quickly won over by it’s incredible balancing act of comedy, drama, and any number of other tones and genres. Indeed, there’s several ways to absorb first-time screenwriter Samy Burch’s densely layered script: there’s the incredibly nuanced performances from Julianne Moore, Natalie Portman (my personal favorite lead performance of the year), and Charles Melton. There’s the way the film dissects our American obsession with scandal, and what’s left over after the news cycle moves on. But above all, May December is a thrilling character study that presents a great deal of thematic juice. I may not have been excited to start watching May December, but it burrowed its way into my head, and has barely left since I finished it.

Monster (2023)

Of Hirokazu Kore-eda’s recent films, Monster is the most plot heavy. Rather than coasting on character sentimentality, the film is all about unpacking the layers of truth (and lies) via an overlapping story. But don’t take this as a departure of quality from Kore-eda, as Monster is one of the most fully realized, three dimensional films of the year. Using a kind of Rashomon style of plotting, each perspective of the same events unfolds a new, richly emotional way of looking at the very essence of truth. And it features Kore-eda’s trademark humanist characters, who feel less like archetypes and more like real people, warts and all. Even on a second viewing, when the plot revelations are less surprising, Monster plays just as poignantly – a twisting, thoughtful film that derives its drama from the most unexpected places. It’s a film that asks if we can ever really know anyone else if we don’t even know ourselves, and the answers are devastating but beautiful.

Oppenheimer

Christopher Nolan’s magnum opus was more than half of a stellar marketing ploy; it was the culmination of a career in storytelling to deliver a cinematic experience like no other. Every year there’s at least one film that has to be seen on the big screen, but Oppenheimer stood head and shoulders above the rest. From its earth-shattering sound design to Hoyte van Hoytema’s gorgeous IMAX cinematography, Nolan’s film was the height of movie-going this year. That the film’s subject matter wrestled with Oppenheimer’s brilliance and guilt, and wrapped it in Nolan’s signature style was the icing on the cake. Indeed, how could a three-hour biopic dealing almost exclusively with theoretical physics and security clearances be so thrilling? I’m still in awe of how Nolan pulled it all off, and I hope to have the opportunity to see Oppenheimer on the biggest screen possible once again.

Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse

Every viewing I’ve had of Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse (now tallied at 4 times), I notice something new. It’s not terribly hard to do; most scenes are exploding with information, references, character beats, and action that makes it almost impossible to take it all in in one seating. In a year when animation flourished and superhero films floundered, Across the Spider-Verse excelled at both. The film took everything that made its predecessor great and cranked the energy up to eleven, doubling down on its signature humor and heart and expanding its visual vocabulary. Detractors have cried that Across the Spider-Verse is technically half of a film, but I see it as a fully-formed rumination on teenage loneliness and heroism. That we have more to look forward to from this multiverse should be seen as a blessing, not a curse.

The Taste of Things

Anyone who’s made a meal that’s more involved than sticking a frozen lasagna in the oven knows how laborious cooking food can be. So when you have dedicated chefs making complex meals before the advent of electronic kitchen devices, you have the labor of love shown in The Taste of Things. Perhaps the sparsest film on this list, narratively speaking, the film shows how the simple act of creating something – whether it be food, art, or anything – for someone else is an act of love. And with delicate and warm performances from Juliette Binoche and Benoît Magimel, The Taste of Things becomes a tender romance with a healthy dose of luxurious food photography thrown in. I would gladly show any film on this list to friends and family, regardless of their love for film, but I think The Taste of Things is one I hope to share with as many people as possible – the mark of a great film.

Movie of the Year: The Boy and the Heron

What is it that separates my Movie of the Year from the rest? Obviously it’s all subjective, but for me, it’s an almost indefinable yearning to experience a film again and again. And no film did that better than Hayao Miyazaki’s latest masterpiece, The Boy and the Heron – even after three viewings so far. Japan’s master animator came out of retirement (again) and produced his most personal film to date, centered on his own legacy and impact on the world. In perhaps the best year for animated films of this decade, The Boy and the Heron stands out not just because of its gorgeous hand-drawn animation – handled by Miyazaki himself, as usual – but because of its densely layered story. Borrowing elements from all of Miyazaki’s greatest hits, it’s a dreamlike film that contains his trademark worldview, while still feeling like something we haven’t seen before from him. If The Boy and the Heron is indeed Miyazaki’s final film, it’s a hell of a way to end a career that ranks as one of the best of all time, and it was an indescribable joy to be able to experience my favorite filmmaker at his best in real time.