
62. Jurassic World: Dominion
A 187 minute tribute to franchise fatigue, Dominion swaps out the enjoyable idiocy of the first two chapters for one plodding action set piece after another. Who knew dinosaurs could be boring?

61. All Quiet on the Western Front
A movie whose impressiveness manages to work against its larger project, this exercise in elongated misery utilizes historical tragedy as a playground for technical wizardry. You can’t honor the fallen when your primary objective is to show off.

60. Vengeance
B.J. Novak’s vainglorious directorial debut seeks to skewer both media-addicted social elites and southern niceties alike, missing in both directions. A cautionary tale about the dangers of telling your own story.

59. Spiderhead
Joseph Kosinski’s unofficial follow-up to Top Gun: Maverick is a sci-fi story wherein explicating big ideas takes precedence over exploring them. At least Chris Hemsworth looked great, because the Netflix presentation on this one was an eyesore.

58. The Bob’s Burgers Movie
Playing out like three mediocre episodes of the weekly cartoon rather than a proper movie, the Belchers are simply better suited to the small screen. Not enough songs, precious few successful gags, and no real reason to exist.

57. Fantastic Beasts: The Secrets of Dumbledore
A franchise that’s still in search of a guiding principle shifts to current political events with disastrous results. Rowling’s world already had its Hilter; turning Grindelwald into a Boris Johnson/Donald Trump avatar while largely ignoring previously established characters is as foolhardy as it sounds.

56. You Won’t Be Alone
Everything that works in this Macedonian witch’s tale has been done more gracefully in any number of Terrance Malick joints. Its ideas seem much better suited for the page than the screen, where molasses pacing prompts eyelids to drift slowly downward.

55. Bones and All
Luca Guadanino’s cannibal romance has nothing at its core, constantly gesturing toward a larger metaphor without ever landing on one. The schlocky, salacious movie Mark Rylance thought he was in would have been better than Bones, a flick that’s distressingly straight-faced and flaccid.

54. Don’t Worry Darling
Woefully under-baked in every conceivable way, the movie’s misbegotten swipes at higher meaning are almost offensive. There’s a certain pleasure in its foolishness, as well as the ravishing production design, but praising it for lovely scaffolding is particularly damning given the ultimate twist.

53. Speak No Evil
The sadistic draw of watching a well-to-do couple felled by their deep sense of societal security eventually curdles into something too demonic to enjoy. The bravery is commendable, but the last half hour is nearly unwatchable.

52. Watcher
Homage can be a worthy genre unto itself, but Watcher doesn’t have any ideas of its own. If we’re going to riff on Hitchcock’s greatest hits for the rest of time, the bells and whistles of modest innovation should be a prerequisite.

51. Doctor Strange and the Multiverse of Madness
Let’s make a pact to never again be fooled by Marvel’s hollow gestures at getting weird. The horror elements here are all watered down in an attempt to remain palatable for the masses, with the guardrails of precious IP never receding.

50. Apollo 10 ½: A Space Age Childhood
Richard Linklater’s penchant for nostalgia gets the best of him in his long-awaited return to rotoscope animation. The visuals are less daring this time around, and the omnipresent Jack Black narration bulldozes any attempts at character development or narrative intrigue.

49. Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery
Daniel Craig’s winning return as detective Benoit Blanc saves this one from complete self sabotage, but the rest of the production reeks of arrogant laziness. Like a straight A student who decides to phone one in, Onion’s unearned belief in its own lovability is its ultimate downfall.

48. Halloween Ends
Destroying your own tired retread from the inside is admirable enough, but if David Gordon Green and company really wanted to stick it to our unhealthy attachment to Michael Meyers, could it have at least been either scary or funny? A few stylistic flourishes liven the proceedings, but Ends is an act of antagonism without enough venom to land a deadly bite.

47. Wendell and Wild
While certainly not lacking in ambition, Jordan Peele’s team-up with Henry Selick is a case study in throwing so many things at the wall that none of them stick. The musings on mass incarceration feel out of place with its family-friendly freights, and while some of the imagery makes a mark, it’s undoubtedly Selick’s least impressive stop-motion outting.

46. She Said
A Hollywood retelling of its own sordid recent past, this dramatization of the Harvey Weinstein investigation is too insular to speak on the #MeToo movement at large. It’s also too boilerplate, employing hand holding exposition where genuine rage would have made a real impact.

45. Kimi
No one doubts that Steven Soderberg can make a movie, but his obsession with elevating lesser material gets the better of him this time around. Kimi takes less is more to its logical conclusion, stranding Zoe Kravitz in a thriller that forgets to thrill.

44. Honk for Jesus. Save Your Soul.
You could certainly do worse than spending 100 minutes with Regina Hall and Sterling K. Brown hamming it up, but this send-up of mega church culture forgot its fangs at home. The mockumentary structure never makes sense, and just when you think writer/director Adamma Ebo is ready to land a real punch, her screenplay retreats to safety.

43. The Whale
Forward-facing in its amoral Oscar-baiting agony, the tastelessness of Darren Aronofsky’s latest at least adds a layer of intrigue. The performances are a blustering mixed bag, and the staging is an affront to aesthetic taste, but there’s a certain gravity to a movie that isn’t holding anything of worth daring you so vehemently to call its bluff.

42. Thor: Love and Thunder
A shoddy, undercooked mess from a studio that usually keeps things distressingly tidy, at least the latest Thor wasn’t putting on airs. There’s even a small handful of scenes that manage to be high functioning, but the greatest appeal of Love and Thunder is its obvious lack of test audience oversight.

41. Prey
The enthusiasm for this movie seems to be in good faith, but there’s something draining about watching a well-considered stand alone action flick be subsumed into the malevolent IP machine. Director Dan Tractenberg remains one to watch, but here’s hoping that next time his myriad good ideas aren’t bogged down by franchise continuation.

40. Neptune Frost
Saul Williams has enviable panache and nerve to spare, but the boldness and unsparing oddity of Neptune Frost don’t coalesce into anything that’s particularly enjoyable to watch. Praiseworthy in its audacity, this one might be best described as an admirable slog.

39. Men
Alex Garland’s filmmaking bravery finally results in a miss, and while there’s no reason to expect less out of subsequent projects, this one doesn’t feel destined for reevaluation any time soon. The gothic imagery is involving, the sonics are ever-enveloping, and the gruesome ending is memorably head scratching, but the script has the feel of a rough draft.

38. Hustle
This one is a matter of taste, seeing as those who find inspirational sports dramas riveting ought to check Hustle out immediately, but its aversion to all things unique hurts the narrative thrust. Adam Sandler is great, current NBA star Anthony Edwards is a revelation, but this is an instance where anyone who’s seen the trailer has already seen the movie.

37. Elvis
A poorly assembled dish made out of superior ingredients, Elvis’s sumptuous production can’t prop up its travesty of a screenplay. The imagery can be dazzling, but is uncomfortably contorted by over-aggressive editing, and while there’s something fascinating about the movie’s stringent unwillingness to interrogate the stickier elements of its titular icon, there’s no denying the mess in its wake.

36. Deep Water
A throwback to the sensual pot boilers of the 90’s, Deep Water is a so-bad-its-good movie whose greatest failures double as its truest strengths. Ana de Armas’ scenery chewing is worth the price of admission on its own, bolstered by some of the most magnificently clumsy storytelling of the year.

35. Bardo: False Chronicle of a Handful of Truths
Remaking Fellini’s 8 1/2 as a self-aggrandizing kiss off to all your haters is pettiness of the highest order, especially when you can do it with Netflix’s money. Bardo is a bad movie, but its level of folly has to be seen to be believed, as glorious in its presentation as it is petulant in its aims.

34. Black Panther: Wakanda Forever
The degree of difficulty on this one, given the adoration for its predecessor and the impact of real-world tragedy, was at the highest level, and Forever performed admirably given the circumstances. With resplendent costumes, lived-in sets, and a magnetic performance from Tenoch Huerta, the Black Panther sequel’s laudable elements weren’t quite enough to distract from the misshapen nature of the proceedings.

33. X
A throwback slasher flick made with loving care, Ti West’s lesser 2022 film does about as well as a movie can while firmly coloring within the lines. Steady performances, handsome lensing and some giddy gore make it worth a watch for enthusiasts of cornball horror. It’s a by the fans, for the fans affair, comfortable in its bloody modesty.

32. White Noise
More of an exercise than a genuine movie, White Noise’s ardent devotion to Don Delilio’s source novel of the same name makes it worth watching while limiting its possibilities. Adam Driver and Greta Gerwig do their best to inhabit characters that were already a bit stagey on the written page, but the mannered dialogue only works so well when rendered visually. A labor of love with mixed results.

31. Women Talking
What works flawlessly as an intellectual exercise on the page is a bit stayed on screen, especially when desaturated to the point of lifelessness. There’s no doubting the intentionality of director Sarah Polley’s decision making, but it stifles the movie’s forward momentum, turning the whole enterprise into something that’d be better suited to a stage-bound live performance.

30. Turning Red
Pixar’s third consecutive straight-to-streaming offering has enough emotion and ideas to be worthy of the theatrical experience, but its modest visuals doesn’t necessitate the big screen. While the studio is famous for coaxing tears and appealing to viewers of all ages, their secret weapon is world building, a strength that Red’s Toronto setting forgoes almost entirely. Its modesty is commendable, but not wholly memorable.

29. Triangle of Sadness
Ruben Ostlund’s first English language feature is as rocky as the seas on which it’s occasionally set, from the dizzying, dastardly highs of the middle section, to the eye-rolling, stale satire of its opening. Of the many eat-the-rich fables to greet our screens last year, this is among the broadest, and better off when skewering its targets visually than with its clunky verbal exchanges.

28. Aftersun
Stripped of narrative contrivance to the point of abstraction, Charlotte Wells’ directorial debut is as uncluttered as they come, for better and worse. Paul Mescal and Frankie Corio are so natural that you forget they’re acting, but the home video quality tricks you out of the belief that you’re watching a movie. It’s certainly an accomplishment, but one that strains patience at every turn.

27. The Fabelmans
Steven Spielberg’s semi-autobiography is worth a watch for fans of the director’s larger oeuvre, but the simplicity of characterization feels like a sanded down version of real life events. A crackerjack final 20 minutes manages to wash away some of the initial bad taste, but the sweetness of the whole affair could have used a little more salt.

26. Memoria
Guaranteed to test the attention span of most viewers, director Apichatpong Weerasethakul’s singular storytelling style doubles as a form of hypnosis, complete with that sinking feeling of getting very, very sleepy. Still, Memoria’s considerable undertow is too powerful to be ignored, a dreamlike exploration of art and nature, and the vanishingly thin line between sleep and death.

25. The Menu
Often a bit too broad in its comedy, Mark Mylod’s satire of elitist eateries and their blowhard patrons lands a few bruising, hilarious blows, and features one of the best endings of any movie last year. The final interaction between Ralph Fiennes and Anya Taylor-Joy morphs from obvious to deceptively precise, and their performances are stellar throughout.

24. The Woman King
Though the conventions of this standardized action epic couldn’t be more familiar if they tried, the gender and racial swap turns the proceedings on their head. The effect is more visually striking than it is narratively novel, but the brand new cast of characters breathes life into potentially stale material.

23. Armageddon Time
Set in the turbulent New York of the early 1980s, James Grey’s semi-autobiographical drama plays like a complete inversion of The Fabelmans, swapping out Spielberg’s high toned production for a stripped down aesthetic, and leaning into the story’s messier elements with reckless abandon. A touch heavy-handed but blissfully free of self-abdication, it’s a study of socio-economic and cultural tiering that leaves a knot in your chest.

22. Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio
The updated setting and mature thematic alterations of del Toro’s take on Pinocchio aren’t as revelatory as their creator seems to think, but the world of the movie is invigoratingly tactile and glowing with loving care. It won’t change any preconceived notions about totalitarian rule, but it’s sumptuous and delightful, never failing to inspire a playful grin.

21. Avatar: The Way of Water
It can be difficult to discern what’s more remarkable between the dazzling special effects and the horrendous screenplay, but luckily enough James Cameron doesn’t make us choose. There are ample delights to be found in the breathtakingly bad dialogue and hair-brained plot mechanics, but those who don’t find joy in such follies can bring ear plugs, because Pandora is even more visually astounding in its second go-around.

20. Barbarian
A deftly constructed roller coaster with devilish charm, Barbarian’s propensity to play fast and loose with real-world horrors can be ethically dubious, but director Zach Cregger sure knows how to thrill an audience. Blending together cat-and-mouse tension, haunted house frights, monster movie mayhem and fearless satirical comedy, I’m still not sure I can vouch for its morals, but it sizzles from start to finish.

19. Bros
Rising like a phoenix from the embers of a dying genre, Bros’ comfortable familiarity is a feature, not a bug. Billy Eichner steps into Billy Crystal’s irascible shoes as a New York intellectual whose romantic pessimism is put to the test by a warm and winning Luke Macfarlane, the two forming a breezy, mismatched chemistry. Judd Apatow’s shadow looms a bit too large, but the jokes land and the sweetness sticks.

18. Pearl
What could have been a novelty item lands with force due to Mia Goth’s unnervingly committed performance in the title role as a burgeoning murderer in 1920s middle America. She’s a force of nature, and for all the technicolor splendor of its era-specific aesthetic, Goth’s turn is the movie’s true visual marvel.

17. The Northman
Gladiator for the Death Metal crowd, Robert Egger’s Viking epic isn’t for the fate of heart, but those with the stomach to go along will be treated to a level of grandeur largely missing from our modern blockbuster fare. It could fairly be labeled as an exercise in style over substance, but the tactile production design is as fully realized as the brutal action set pieces, a haunting gothic painting set in motion.

16. Crimes of the Future
David Cronenberg returns from an eight year absence to reckon with his legacy as only he can; with deplorable body horror and sadistic tomfoolery. Set in a rundown future where invasive surgery moonlights as performance art, Crimes cheekily ribs our modern draw towards grotesquery and vicarious living, self-implicating in the process. Its humor and naughty allure are aided by a game cast, especially Kristen Stewart, who’s never been more fun.

15. The Batman
Turns out the world did need another brooding take on the Caped Crusader, or maybe we just need Matt Reeves. Hollywood’s premiere director-for-hire brings Bruce Wayne back to his sleuthing roots, but the involving narrative gymnastics take second stage to the radiant production. The sound booms, the score sweeps, and cinematographer Greig Fraser proves incapable of producing a dull frame in a tentpole that actually lives up to its big ticket billing.

14. Smile
Irrefutable proof that you can still make a ghoulishly effective frightener with tried-and-true ingredients, Smile is a welcome antidote to horror’s current art house bend. The movie’s viral terror immediately calls to mind The Ring and It Follows, using trauma as the infection without a cure, and following its thesis to a remarkably morbid conclusion. An ode to the old school jump scare, Parker Finn’s directorial debut is able to retain its thematic throughline without sacrificing the popcorn chills that make a theater hold its collective breath.

13. Marcel the Shell with Shoes On
As charming and earnest as the come, this feature adaptation of a long-forgotten online video series retains the adorable hilarity of its first iteration while affixing a new sense of patient wisdom and steady grace. A mockumentary about a sentient, over-earnest mollusk would have been cloying in any other hands, but the script is a diamond, generating laughter and earnest rumination, walking a too-cute tightrope without ever falling off.

12. After Yang
An ever-lasting golden hour that operates as both therapy session and meditative tone poem, Yang takes the rare look at technological advancement that doesn’t immediately veer toward doomsday. Instead, the story of a family whose beloved android becomes non-functioning is deeply humanist, exploring the power of memories that are either forgotten or misremembered. Its zenned-out ambience takes on a trance-inducing quality, leaving viewers calm and receptive to its hushed morsels of worldly insight.

11. Top Gun: Maverick
It’s astonishing that a movie operating as an infomercial for the enduring prowess of its lead actor could turn into such a crowd pleaser, but Tom Cruise and company set the table for one hell of a tentpole buffet. From its adorably broad and boastful screenplay to the mid-air exhilaration of its myriad set pieces, the year’s box office champion is never less than a blast, baring an uncomplicated showmanship that impresses on every level. Maybe they do make ‘em like they used to.

10. Everything Everywhere All At Once
The multiversal family saga that won the hearts of moviegoers and award voters alike, there’s not much left to say about Everything that hasn’t already been shouted to the heavens. Throwing Looney Tunes, The Matrix, Kung Fu flicks and heart-on-sleeve emotionality into a blender and mixing to perfection, Daniels’ sophomore directorial feature is the rare case where a movie is doing the most and still hitting all the marks. It’s ever-eager to love and be loved, and audiences returned the favor.

9. We’re All Going to the World’s Fair
This micro-budget indie spends most of its runtime in the same fashion as its deteriorating protagonist, staring at screens in search of sinister jolts and deeper meanings. Writer/director Jane Schoenbrun’s debut feature follows a teen girl’s involvement in a horror-themed online role playing game and subsequent psychological spiral, though whether it’s her or the audience who’s being knowingly triggered is tantalizingly ambiguous. Laudable as a treatise on the dangers of both self-imposed isolation and devious misinformation, World’s Fair also possesses the power to scare without deeper consideration, successfully recreating the dread-inducing pull of a late night internet rabbit hole.

8. Mad God
When you consider the three decades that it took effects guru Phil Tippett to fund and create Mad God, its credentials as one of the most deranged passion projects in the history of cinema are beyond reproach. This dialogue-free stop motion nightmare is undoubtedly the least inviting great film of 2022, but the visual spectacle of the animation is downright jaw-dropping. As unfathomably imaginative as it is profoundly upsetting, the movie’s unvoiced outrage over humanity’s commerce-driven cruelty has gallows humor to spare, but never at the expense of its dire worldview. It may be wasting away on Shutter right now, but don’t be surprised when this one resurfaces as a midnight cult classic.

7. Bodies Bodies Bodies
Fully realized as both a vicious social satire and an intoxicating whodunit romp, Bodies‘ story of a party weekend gone haywire is supercharged from the moment the lights go down. Unapologetically attacking modern liberal vernacular, Sarah DeLappe’s screenplay explores how easily our well-intentioned updates in cultural rhetoric can be weaponized into grudge-settling battering rams, but to relegate the film’s accomplishments to think piece fodder would miss its cracker jack construction. The movie’s central mystery proves captivating and impenetrable until the final moments, where the ultimate reveal couldn’t possibly be more satisfying.

6. Nope
Jordan Peele’s first foray into spectacle is more than a little weary of its own grandiosity, taking aim at our inexhaustible desire to be thrilled at all cost. The writer/director’s story of a family-owned Hollywood ranch whose inhabitants become obsessed with an ominous presence that roams the skies is steeped in rigorous iconography, spine-tingling set pieces, and bottomless pockets of thematic intrigue. It’s certainly not as cleanly precise as Get Out, but when your ideas are this evocative, those murky depths are tantalizing to explore.

5. Decision to Leave
A love letter to Hitchcockian mysteries that shares the legendary auteur’s fondness for phycho-sexual gamesmanship, Park Chan-wook’s latest is a naughty, knotted pot boiler executed with a level of mastery too often reserved for more serious fare. The story of a homicide detective falling in love with his primary suspect won’t be new to anyone with a streaming service, but the craftsmanship is impeccable, with head-spinning editing and a cock-eyed visual pallet that compels us deeper into the unknown. Tang Wei is a femme fatale for the ages, headlining this Korean import that charges headlong into confusion and obsession, reaffirming crime noir’s primacy as one of filmmaking’s more durable genres.

4. The Banshees of Inisherin
There’s something about the shrunken scale of Banshees that makes it counterintuitively towering, capable of being extrapolated on to any time and place in which humans have roamed the earth. Chronicling the end of a friendship in 1920s Ireland, the movie plays equally well as a metaphor for the country’s contemporaneous civil war or the ever-roiling battle between ambition and complacency, but focusing exclusively on those abstractions would do a disservice to the events onscreen. Colin Farrell’s performance embodies the movie writ large, both hilarious and devastating as a humble sheep farmer at a loss for how to reconcile with the sudden end of his most meaningful relationship. Whether you believe interpersonal connection or enduring legacy give life its meaning, it’s hard not to be shaken when the two take aim at one another.

3. RRR
The Indian import that absolutely ate James Cameron’s lunch, RRR is the phantasmagorical extravaganza that The Way of Water wishes it could be. Set amidst the cruel British Raj of the 1920s, the movie follows two highly fictionalized versions of real-life Indian revolutionaries who alternate between loving friendship and bitter opposition throughout its barnburning 187-minute runtime. Sublimely excessive in every way, the film’s smorgasbord approach makes space for mind-blowing action sequences, song and dance numbers, CGI tiger fights, impossibly earnest emotions, surprisingly visceral violence, and genuinely uplifting sentimentality. Leave your skepticism and sarcasm at the door; RRR would blast them into oblivion, and then do motorcycle tricks on their ashes.

2. Tár
The year’s most intellectually stimulating offering by a mile, writer/director Todd Field’s first feature in 16 years is ready to nestle down into the deepest recesses of your mind, where it won’t be leaving anytime soon. Cate Blanchett’s Lydia Tar immediately takes her place amongst this generation’s most indelible filmic creations, a much-celebrated classical composer whose time in society’s good graces dwindles before our eyes. The performance is a wonder, but it’s Field’s briarpatch of a screenplay that steals the show, a multifaceted rumination on cancel culture and the modern quandary of separating the art from the artist. Though exhaustive in its considerations, Tar withholds its final verdict, challenging the audience to arrive at their own conclusions once they’ve emerged from his immaculate labyrinth. Destined to be pulled apart and dissected from here to eternity, Tar has the cerebral staying power of a classic.

1. Babylon
Seemingly designed to be rediscovered years after its predictable financial faceplant, it’s not too late to hop on board the Babylon hype train. Bearing witness to Hollywood’s primitive years in a still-barren Los Angeles, the movie charts the rise and fall of several Tinseltown players when the City of Angels was a playground for devils. Writer/director Damien Chazelle captures all the depravity and innovation with enough electricity to power a metropolis, stacking one awe-inspiring episode on top of another with maniacal aggression. The whole enterprise threatens to topple over at any moment, but the back-breaking force of will involved in mounting a movie this gargantuan is extraordinary to behold, the most audacious and technically ambitious flick to be released since the pandemic. If this is really the end of modern filmmaking, as the rolling thunder of the movie’s conclusion would seem to suggest, at least we went out with the loudest bang possible.

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