It’s that time of the year again when our contributors select some of their favourite films of the year, featuring special guests Ruairí O'Brien, Vera Graziadei and Annie Davey.
While Barbenheimer took the world by storm in the summer of 2023, this last year might not have seen a double-bill of the same magnitude, but there have been some outstanding features released throughout the year.
Thank you to all of our readers and contributors for all of your continued support.
Ruairí O'Brien
It's been an eclectic year and a few films have stood out for different reasons.
Conclave (Dir: Edward Berger)
This film is flawless. The script is measured and intelligent. The performances are understated. The plot is clear and the characters well drawn. As a cinematographer I loved that the camera hardly moves. I can't recommend this film highly enough.
The Outrun (Dir: Nora Fingscheidt)
There's a great sense of experiential storytelling in this film. It's a movie that is hard to describe because like a lot of great art, describing it seems to flatten it. But Saoirse Ronan is terrific. She produced the film with her partner through her own production company.
It is directed by Nora Fingscheidt with a very assured hand and it is much more focussed on character than plot. The film portrays Orkney as a rough, primal place and doesn't go in for romanticism.
Speaking to a friend who has been through addiction and recovery I am told this film is a very true expression of what it is to go down that path.
Hundreds of Beavers (Dir: Mike Cheslik)
I'm including this film because it has really stayed with me. Imagine a cartoon made live action, beavers played by people in beaver costumes and silliness turned up to the max. It's a bit like a Road Runner cartoon but shot in black and white on a shoestring budget.
I can imagine people hating this and writing it off as juvenile, but I love its willingness to plough its own furrow. Mike Cheslik, the director, commits entirely to the gag and keeps on pushing. It's pure fun.
Here (Dir: Robert Zemeckis)
I've heard it derided. Arguably this is an exercise where the technique overshadows the story. But I think it's a very interesting approach and whenever someone experiments with the forms of cinema, all of us filmmakers stand to benefit.
Getting Tom Hanks and Robin Wright in an experimental film is a coup that very few filmmakers could achieve.
Is it sentimental? Sure. Is it twee? Perhaps.
Am I glad it exists in this world? I am. Definitely not for everyone but if you're into cinema it's worth exploring.
Eno (Dir: Gary Hustwit)
Gary Hutswit's film is a unique experiment. Using AI, the film is different every time it is screened as the assembled scenes are elected uniquely for each showing. The version I saw will not be the version you see.
It all sounds a bit far out, but Eno himself is fascinating, funny and surprisingly warm. I don't know that this film will ever get released on a streaming service because I don't know that the tech involved would be compatible. For that reason, it's worth catching it if you see an opportunity somewhere.
I should add that Sing Sing and A Quiet Place 3 were terrific. Also, Megalopolis will be argued about for years...
Annie Davey
Kneecap (Dir: Rich Peppiatt)
Kneecap is a groundbreaking film, blending surreal visuals and bold storytelling to chronicle the semi-fictionalised origins of the West Belfast rap trio. As the first Irish language film to premier at Sundance, it creatively combines real-life and cartoon portrayals, on-screen drawings, and musical performances to reflect the trio’s rebellious spirit. As an original fan of the rappers, it was refreshing to witness them deliver strikingly authentic performances, playing the alter egos of themselves. They shone alongside the likes the Michael Fassbender and Simone Kirby, delivering heartfelt moments that added emotional depth to the film’s absurdist humour.
Exploring themes of freedom, identity, and independence, Kneecap is remarkably bold and audacious, rightly earning seven British Independent Film Awards and making the shortlist for two Academy Awards.
Challengers (Dir: Luca Guadagnino)
Challengers is a gripping exploration of ambition, love, and the corrupting nature of competition. Zendaya delivers an outstanding performance, continuing to impress and evolve far beyond her Disney Channel days. Her portrayal of Tashi is both commanding and deeply layered, anchoring the film’s tension as Patrick and Art, former friends, spend their lives battling for her affections.
The film cleverly examines the intoxicating power of winning, weaving this theme into its dramatic—though slightly prolonged—slow motion sports sequences. Audiences are forced to grapple with their loyalties as the lines between hero and villain blur, resulting in the post-film question that all viewers undoubtedly debated: Team Patrick or Team Art?
Blink Twice (Dir: Zoe Kravitz)
Blink Twice, Zoe Kravitz’s astounding directorial debut, defied expectations with a gripping and surprisingly nuanced story. While I entered the cinema expecting cliches and unintentional humour, I only laughed when the characters intended me to. The film’s echoes of Epstein’s Island and the horrors of nonconsensual abuse evoke visceral disgust, grounding its lavish setting in sharp social commentary.
Naomi Ackie delivers a remarkable performance as Frida, portraying a determined women caught in an opulent nightmare. The fight for survival amid twisted luxury is riveting, even if the snake venom antidote veers into tackiness. Still, the ending satisfies as Frida outsmarts Slater King, using his Rohypnol-like drug to destroy his memory, enabling her to take his riches and control, delivering the female empowerment that the that the audience roots for throughout the film.
Oliver Webb
Narrowing the list to five has been a challenging task this year. Tim Mielant’s Small Things Like These and Yasemin Samdereli’s Samia were both remarkable and worthy of a mention in addition to my choices below.
Nosferatu (Dir: Robert Eggers)
I might have been overly enthusiastic when I said Lily-Rose Depp would be nominated for an Academy Award for her portrayal as Ellen Hutter in this remake of the 1922 German expressionist horror film, Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror. Whether or not Depp bags a nomination, this is a brilliantly devised masterstroke from Robert Eggers.
The Outrun (Dir: Nora Fingscheidt)
DOP Yunus Roy Imer expertly intertwines bright colourful hues of vibrant London with the rugged and wild Orkney landscapes in this outstanding feature from Nora Fingscheidt. Boosted by an exceptional performance from Saoirse Ronan, The Outrun offers a perfect tonal balance of landscapes that shape Rona’s world. The stunning images of seals in the Orkney waters by underwater cinematographer Raymond Besant also deserves a special mention. This film has stayed with me since.
Anora (Dir: Sean Baker)
Sean Baker is at his best here with this wildly daring film about a young Brooklyn sex worker who becomes entangled with the Russian mafia. No doubt Mikey Maddison will be scooping up Best Actress at this year’s Academy Awards, which would be most deserved.
Nickel Boys (Dir: RaMell Ross)
Nickel Boys unique approach on being captured in the first-person perspective elevates the beautifully crafted story, as we witness Elwood and Turner’s injustices firsthand. The immersive viewing creates for a moving and exceptional cinematic experience. RaMell Ross’ extraordinary adaptation of Colson Whitehead’s award-winning 2019 novel is a must-watch and I was lucky to catch an early screening.
The End We Start From (Dir: Mahalia Belo)
Mahalia Belo’s feature directorial debut follows a young mother (Jodie Comer) and her newborn child as she embarks on a treacherous journey to find safe refuge after a devastating flood. The End We Start From is a hauntingly realistic depiction of a dystopian London submerged underwater. It’s a shame this film hasn’t garnered more attention that is so deserves.
Vera Graziadei
Black Dog (Dir: Guan Hu)
This heartwarming fable of an antihero’s redemption, sparked by a profound bond with an unexpected canine companion, opens with a shot of majestic cinematic grandeur (DOP: Gao Weizhe) and impressive animal-wrangling orchestration. It sustains a high level of artistry throughout, masterfully balancing drama, noir, and absurdist comedy, weaving these elements into a poignant meditation on the forces that tame the beast within us — not romantic love, which barely grazes the heart here, but the act of compassionate giving taking centre stage. A certainly well-deserved Un Certain Regard Award at Cannes.
On Becoming a Guinea Fowl (Dir: Rungano Nyoni)
A rare glimpse into a society most of us know little about unfolds in this surreal dark comedy centred around a middle-class Zambian funeral. As the body nears its descent into the ground, deep secrets erupt to the surface, defying futile attempts to maintain masks of respectability and shattering years of denial within a patriarchal family built on pretences. With an innovative and original voice that is both scorchingly satirical and profoundly heartbreaking, the film challenges ancient societal traditions that deny justice to victims of sexual abuse and urges us to stay vigilant against the lies and betrayals perpetuated for monetary gain or social status in our own society.
La Chimera (Dir: Alice Rohrwacher)
An earthy, dreamy retelling of the Orpheus myth, La Chimera follows an antihero on a mission to enter the world of the dead. Propelled by the external drive to profiteer through plunder and an internal, aching search for his lost love, Josh O’Connor’s shaggy Arthur achieves both goals in a trance-like, meditative state. As the master tomb raider digs for archaeological treasures, director Alice Rohrwacher and cinematographer Hélène Louvart engage in their own excavation of cinema’s history, employing an exciting medley of 35mm, 16mm, and Super 16 film stock to tell the story. A highly intelligent, highbrow watch, the film reflects on the power of collective memory buried in myths and folklore while challenging the materialist patriarchal status quo. In a haunting, intellectually satisfying, and emotionally devastating conclusion, Arthur follows the red thread of his yearning to a tomb that becomes his eternal dwelling, reminding us that the Minotaur we seek and fear is often buried within ourselves.
Last Swim (Dir: Sasha Nathwani)
Last Swim offers a life-affirming coming-of-age journey through beloved London, presenting familiar terrains like Golborne Road and Hampstead Park anew through the lens of Generation Z. The film's portrayal of 18-year-old Ziba Soofi and her friends is vibrant and deeply empathetic, capturing the essence of youth with authenticity and rawness. The characters and their dialogues are so believable that, within minutes, you become one of them, following their sunlit adventures across the city, feeling as if you’ve just graduated yourself. Yet, as the underlying drama of illness simmers beneath the intoxicating merrymaking, the unbearable lightness of being inevitably turns heavy in moments of comforting mortality is inevitable. Still, this is pure poetry about being young, being alive, and confronting the unjust, devastating paradoxical reality that illness and death somehow coexist alongside all the beauty and joy.
Kneecap (Dir: Rich Peppiatt)
A stylised, electrifying viewing experience infused with youthful debauchery, Kneecap is a frenetically paced and hilarious music biopic about an Irish rap band. At its core, it stands as a powerful piece of cultural activism, calling for the revival of a language and culture suppressed for centuries. While some may argue that controversial, drug-taking rappers are unconventional ambassadors for national heritage, the film’s raw energy, provocative humour, and unapologetic anarchic spirit are bound to inspire a generation of young Irish to embrace and preserve their linguistic roots. As a Ukrainian striving to polish up on my own native language, which has been overshadowed by the colonial influence, I found the film deeply resonant. Simply put, Kneecap is the most entertaining and hilarious musical biopic of recent times and, most importantly, has the potential to inspire cultural change.
A special mention:
Falling into Place (Dir: Aylin Tezel)
Nominated for Best Film at Raindance, Falling into Place is an indie gem set against the breathtaking natural landscapes of the Isle of Skye and the vibrant urban sprawl of London. A must-watch for all romantic souls, the film evokes the intimacy of the Before Sunrise trilogy and, at times, feels like a European take on Frances Ha. Stunningly shot and anchored by captivating, believable dialogues, it is a thoughtful exploration of how chance romantic encounters can leave a lasting imprint on our lives. A personal disclaimer: as a friend of the director, I’ve had the privilege of witnessing the film "falling into place" from its earliest stages, so this recommendation comes with a special sense of pride in seeing Aylin Tezel not only achieve an impressive directorial debut, but also deliver a powerful and visceral lead performance. Adding to the film’s charm is a radiant cameo by Olwen Fouéré, which I thoroughly enjoyed.
Alex Harper
Anora (Dir: Sean Baker)
Ani (Mikey Madison) and Ivan’s (Mark Eydelshteyn) romance is the stuff of fairy tales. A spiky exotic dancer, whisked away by the impulsive son of a Russian oligarch to the high life she could only dream of. So far, so Pretty Woman. But this is director Sean Baker at the helm— the joke being he is to sex workers what Scorsese is to mobsters. The whiplash from fantasy to farce, imploding over a riotous 20 minute set-piece, is as extreme as the poles at which Anora operates; from outrageously funny to deeply affecting. And it is carried through by Madison’s intuitive, forceful interpretation of Baker’s nuanced character. She appears at once to be naive and canny, in it for love or for the lifestyle— we are never fully able to grasp the balance. And that complexity doesn’t let up until the bracing final moments. Madison and Baker confront us with witnessing what becomes of sexuality and intimacy for Ani, once separated from the performance and assurances she’d grown accustom. It left me stunned.
Look Back (Dir: Kiyotaka Oshiyama)
4th Grader Fujino revels in her status as her school paper’s in-house manga artist, until she is made to share page space with truant student Kyomoto— an artist whose technical ability surpasses her own. Years worth of resentment, competition and self-doubt come to a head when the girls finally meet and discover the power of sharing a vision. The latter can be said for director Kiyotaka Oshiyama and original author Tatsuki Fujimoto— not shy towards contemplation and sensitivity, even if he often hides it behind the narrative insanity in works like Chainsaw Man. In adapting Look Back, Oshiyama preserves its essence. It’s in the sheer emotion of a single image, an expression, a time lapse; Fujino dancing in the rain after an ego boost, growing in statue with every cut. It’s in the pain and hopelessness artists feel, drawing from Fujimoto’s response to the loss from the Kyoto Animation tragedy. And that essence is Fujimoto’s thesis on art: that no matter the work put into the raw material, its meaning only comes from response. Art is an act of love, of community. An inherent power only revealed when openly shared.
Sing Sing (Dir: Greg Kwedar)
I had it put to me once that, ‘No film is made entirely ethically.’ Make of that what you will, but Sing Sing feels like the strongest rebuke to that claim. Divine G (Colman Domingo), imprisoned for a crime he did not commit, is a cornerstone of the Rehabilitation Through the Arts programme at Sing Sing Correctional Facility. He is tasked with writing and performing a play that appeals to the sensibilities of all prisoners, and along the way recruits fought diamond Clarence Maclin to perform Hamlet. That is plot and reality, as Greg Kwedar constructs Sing Sing as a film about the prisoners, by the prisoners. Domingo and Paul Raci, paid a universal base rate for all cast and crew, are among the few actors performing here who didn’t come from the real life RTA— playing versions of themselves, telling their own stories. Sing Sing is a delicate, humble act of demonstrating the uplifting and healing power of storytelling and performance, both in what it depicts and how it’s created.
I Saw the TV Glow (Dir: Jane Schoenbrun)
Jane Schoenbrun’s sophomore feature challenges us to embrace the unconventional. Owen (Ian Foreman and later, Justice Smith) finds himself inexplicably drawn to the fictional series The Pink Opaque, and with it to local super fan Maddy (Bridgette Lundy-Paine). A “show for girls,” as his dad menacingly calls it. As the line between the real world and that of their favourite show blurs and collapses inward, Owen and Maddy find themselves torn between repressing and embracing the daunting clarity of what this other world offers. Calling I Saw the TV Glow subversive is just the start of it. It’s a dysregulating film— finding the space between unnerving genre piece and personal tone poem to evoke a very specific experience of gender dysphoria. Gut-wrenching, as if something were pulling your insides out to help make you understand. A truly unique film.
The Substance (Dir: Coralie Fargeat)
The most fascinating aspect of Coralie Fargeat’s gonzo body horror may actually be its screenplay. When immersed in The Substance, you may not expect it— dialogue is hammer blunt, and the plot shaved down to a shiv. Yet reading Fargeat’s manuscript demonstrates just what control she had over each image, each wild swerve. Stabs at aging star Elizabeth’s (Demi Moore) self-worth punctuated by “PUMP IT UP,” plastered in bold, on page, on a billboard; how a paragraph bulges and morphs when describing the young upstart Sue’s (Margaret Qualley) removal of a chicken wing under her skin. I haven’t divulged much of the plot, but know three things: it’s about society’s avarice for youth and perfection and the drastic efforts those in Hollywood take to stay relevant; it elicits equal parts laughter and trauma; and it plays as the equivalent to Fargeat wandering out of the screen and kicking you to a pulp while demanding you be kinder to yourself. It’s brilliant.
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