The Best Movies of 2025: A Great Year for Cinema

Every year we crown “the best movies,” and every year at least one person replies, “Really? That?”

To which I say: yes. Really. That.

Because 2025 wasn’t about consensus picks or perfectly focus-grouped crowd-pleasers. This was the year movies got weird, bold, occasionally messy and - most importantly - interesting again. Directors took swings. Studios (sometimes accidentally) let artists cook. Genres blurred, horror kept flexing and even the big IP machines remembered how to take a breath.

These aren’t just the most popular films of the year. These are the ones that lingered. The ones people argued about. The ones you kept thinking about days - or weeks - later.

Here are the movies that I believe defined 2025.

Weapons

Weapons didn’t just scare audiences - it unnerved them in that slow, creeping way that sticks with you long after the credits roll. This is horror as atmosphere, as dread, as “something is very wrong here and nobody is saying it out loud.”

What makes Weapons stand out isn’t just its tension (which is relentless), but how confident it is in letting silence, framing, and implication do the work. It trusts the audience. It dares you to sit with discomfort instead of jump scares. And in a year packed with strong genre entries, Weapons still managed to feel like the one people whispered about afterward.

Frankenstein

Yes, that Frankenstein - but not the one you’re picturing.

This isn’t a nostalgia play or a stitched-together remix of past adaptations. Frankenstein in 2025 feels urgent, emotional, and surprisingly intimate. It understands that the monster was never the point - the loneliness was.

At its core, this is a film about creation, responsibility, and what happens when ambition outruns empathy. It’s gothic without being dusty, tragic without being melodramatic, and it proves that even the most adapted stories still have new blood to offer if you approach them honestly.

Eddington

Eddington is one of those films that doesn’t ask for your attention - it demands it.

This is a movie that thrives on unease, moral ambiguity, and the sense that every character is hiding something, including the story itself. It’s patient, methodical, and quietly devastating. The kind of film where a single look or line of dialogue lands harder than any big speech.

It’s not an easy watch and that’s exactly why it works.

Black Bag

If 2025 proved anything, it’s that adult thrillers are not dead - they were just waiting for someone to remember how to make them.

Black Bag is sharp, controlled, and refreshingly confident. It doesn’t overexplain. It doesn’t wink at the camera. It just lets tension build, scenes breathe, and characters make decisions that actually have consequences.

This is the kind of movie that reminds you why we used to line up for smart, mid-budget dramas that trusted audiences to keep up.

The Phoenician Scheme

Stylish, strange, and unapologetically specific, The Phoenician Scheme feels like a film made by someone who knew exactly what movie they wanted to make - and didn’t care if everyone came along for the ride.

That confidence pays off. This is a movie rich with texture, theme, and visual storytelling. It’s layered, sometimes cryptic, and endlessly rewatchable. The kind of film that rewards attention and sparks debate instead of spoon-feeding meaning.

Thunderbolts*

Let’s be honest: expectations were… complicated.

And yet Thunderbolts* managed to do something rare - it felt like a superhero movie made by people who remembered that characters matter. This isn’t about saving the universe. It’s about damaged people, bad decisions and uneasy alliances.

It’s messy. It’s rough around the edges. And that’s exactly why it works. In a genre desperate for reinvention, Thunderbolts* felt like a step in the right direction.

Sinners

Few films this year balanced brutality and beauty as effectively as Sinners.

This is a movie about guilt, faith, violence, and the stories we tell ourselves to survive. It’s raw without being exploitative, emotional without being sentimental, and it carries a weight that feels earned.

Sinners doesn’t offer easy answers - but it absolutely knows what questions it wants to ask.

Pee-wee as Himself

Against all odds, Pee-wee as Himself ended up being one of the most moving films of the year.

This isn’t just a documentary - it’s a reclamation. A funny, sad, affectionate look at legacy, performance and what happens when a character becomes bigger than the person who created them. It’s honest without being cruel and celebratory without ignoring the complicated parts. It's also devastatingly sad. 

Even if you didn’t grow up on Pee-wee, this one hits on something universal: the cost of being known for one thing forever.

Bring Her Back

Grief horror had a strong year, and Bring Her Back stands near the top of the pile.

This film understands that the scariest thing isn’t the supernatural - it’s the desperation that comes from loss. It builds its terror slowly, letting emotion drive the fear instead of the other way around.

By the time the horror fully reveals itself, you’re already invested. And that makes it hurt more. In the best possible way.

Fantastic Four: First Steps

After decades of numerous attempts, Fantastic Four: First Steps finally cracked the code: make the Fantastic Four a family again.

This movie understands the tone. It leans into optimism without being corny, wonder without being juvenile and the futuristic retro visuals are incredible. It lets its characters like each other. It lets the science be fun. And it doesn’t forget that this characters works best when they give us hope.

For the first time in a long time, the Fantastic Four felt… fantastic.

The Chronology of Water

Visceral, poetic, and emotionally exhausting in the best way, The Chronology of Water is the kind of film that feels carved rather than constructed.

It’s a story about survival, art, trauma, and transformation - and it doesn’t shy away from the messiness of any of it. This is cinema as catharsis. Not comforting, not easy, but deeply human.

You don’t just watch this movie. You experience it.

HEDDA

HEDDA is proof that classical stories don’t need modernization gimmicks - they need clarity of purpose.

This film finds a way to make its source feel urgent and contemporary without sanding down its sharp edges. It’s tense, intimate and powered by performances that understand restraint is often more devastating than spectacle.

HEDDA doesn’t scream for attention. It commands it.

Why These Movies Mattered

What ties all of these films together isn’t genre, budget, or box office. It’s intent.

Each of these movies knew what it wanted to be - and committed to it. They trusted audiences. They took risks. They didn’t apologize for being specific. And in a media landscape drowning in content, that confidence made all the difference.

2025 reminded us that cinema doesn’t need to be safe to be successful - it needs to be felt.

And these films? I'm still feeling them - and I think you are too.