Another year inches closer to the end, which means people in my line of work are publishing their lists of what they liked most in the preceding twelve months. Different people have different criteria, and since this is my personal list, not tied to a specific publication, my rules are very simple: any movie that had its first public screening in 2023 was eligible. For films that haven’t yet received a traditional theatrical run in my main freelancing areas (Italy and Switzerland), the festival where I first saw them is mentioned in parentheses. Enjoy, and see you all in 2024!
1. Oppenheimer by Christopher Nolan
Much of the pre-release chatter surrounding this film, aside from Barbenheimer memes and the Universal/Warner Bros. rivalry, was about whether even Christopher Nolan’s name could get large crowds to watch a three-hour movie about the man who invented the nuclear bomb. The answer: of course he could, by turning J. Robert Oppenheimer’s theories and their practical implementations into a non-linear thriller that deals with the director’s usual themes – obsession, time, personal rivalries – on an almost unprecedented scale, making theoretical physics become thrilling visuals and a foregone conclusion (we know what happened with the bomb) an exercise of masterful suspense. As breathtaking as Nolan’s achievements usually are, this is on a whole other level, arguably his most accomplished film so far, and the boldest example of his vision of cinema as intelligent spectacle.
2. The Beast by Bertrand Bonello (Venice)
Having made one of the finer Covid-related films in 2022 with Coma, Bertrand Bonello returned to screens with a picture that couldn’t be timelier, about life in an increasingly artificial environment. Set in a world where people subject themselves to a DNA purification procedure that rids them of all emotions, The Beast (loosely based on Henry James’ The Beast in the Jungle) is science fiction at its most cerebral, with a premise that is ripe for exploration in the hands of Bonello, a filmmaker whose work is itself very divisive in terms of where it hits the viewer emotionally. Léa Seydoux is quite simply astounding, delivering a career-best performance alongside George MacKay, the other half of a pair struggling with connection in a system that is designed to keep them distant in every sense of the word.
3. The Zone of Interest by Jonathan Glazer (Zurich)
Like Bonello, Jonathan Glazer is a very love-him-or-hate-him director, and his deliberately glacial style finds its perfect outlet in this loose adaptation of the novel of the same name by Martin Amis (who passed away on the day of the film’s world premiere; post-Cannes prints have a dedication in the end credits). It is perhaps the most unnervingly accurate embodiment of what Hannah Arendt called the “banality of evil”, as the horrors of the Auschwitz concentration camp are quite literally background noise while we witness the everyday life of the family of camp commandant Rudolf Höss. An intelligent examination of what went on outside the camp area, and a refreshing angle on a topic cinema has frequently (and sometimes callously) brought to the screen.
4. Killers of the Flower Moon by Martin Scorsese
Two generations of crime and acting come together as Scorsese, for the first time, directs both of his muses – Robert De Niro and Leonardo DiCaprio – in the same film. But gone is the thrill of previous iterations of both collaborations: in the past, characters like Jimmy Conway, Sam Rothstein and Jordan Belfort were perversely fascinating to watch, leading to the surface-level misconception that the director was glamorizing the gangster lifestyle. Now, the dominant feeling is sadness, as Scorsese mourns the Native groups exploited for profit and unveils the sheer unpleasantness of the people who orchestrated the schemes. It is also, arguably, the ideal companion piece to Hugo as a meditation on the evolution of audiovisual storytelling, with a brilliantly simple yet layered finale.
5. Pictures of Ghosts by Kleber Mendonça Filho (Festival Lumière)
Brazilian filmmaker Kleber Mendonça Filho has always had a special affection for the Recife area, where he grew up, and he returns home with this documentary which is part family reminiscence and part soulful tribute to the city’s film culture, which Mendonça experienced in multiple ways (he was a critic before switching to directing) and is now mainly the subject of memories as the picture houses of his youth are almost entirely extinct. An enchanting time capsule, and a powerful portrait of film’s role as a record of local culture.
6. Nimona by Troy Quane and Nick Bruno
One of the truly amazing comeback stories of the last few years, as the almost-completed film was initially shut down by Disney (by then the owner of the now defunct Blue Sky Studios), only to be revived by Netflix who, unlike the rival company, were not on the fence about a science fiction/fantasy adventure with queer elements. A spellbinding blend of visuals and heart, it’s also a monument to a studio that no longer exists: uneven though its output was, Blue Sky always produced entertaining material, and the decision to list every single staff member in the closing credits adds to the film’s emotional power.
7. Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse by Joaquim Dos Santos, Kemp Powers and Justin K. Thompson
For my money, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018) is the greatest Marvel adaptation of all time, the one that truly captures the scope and madness of the original comic books from a visual standpoint. The sequel goes even further, as it takes Miles Morales out of his comfort zone and throws him into new worlds, each with its own distinct style that still manages to be of a piece with the project’s overall aesthetic. A treasure trove of details for Spider-Man fans, which nonetheless never loses sight of its strong character arcs as it builds towards an explosion of world-bending shenanigans that will be concluded in the upcoming Beyond the Spider-Verse.
8. Mission: Impossible – Dead Reckoning Part One by Christopher McQuarrie
It’s almost scary how prescient this film was, choosing an artificial intelligence as its main antagonist and being released in the middle of a dual Hollywood strike where the same concept was a key concern (of course, the movie actually started shooting in early 2020, with multiple Covid delays). Perhaps even more so than Top Gun: Maverick (another Tom Cruise/Christopher McQuarrie team-up), it’s a spectacularly intelligent and heartfelt meditation on what it means to be an old-fashioned, analog player in a world that relies way too much on digital trickery. In that sense, the fact it disappointed at the box office can’t help but feel a tad disconcerting.
9. Do Not Expect Too Much From the End of the World by Radu Jude (Locarno)
Fresh from his Golden Bear win in Berlin in 2021, Romanian director Radu Jude fired off a few brilliant short films before returning to feature-length territory with another biting piece of satire exposing the darker underbelly of self-declared civilized society. Workers’ rights, corporate malfeasance and the inherent fakeness of moviemaking come together to create a no-holds-barred dark comedy anchored by Ilinca Manolache’s stellar performance. That said, the funniest joke is not in the movie itself: ever the self-deprecating artist, Jude introduced the film at the Locarno premiere by saying “It’s 164 minutes long. I apologize.”
10. Close Your Eyes by Victor Erice (Cannes)
31 years after his previous film, Victor Erice made his long-awaited return behind the camera with his fourth feature, one that he insists should not be read as a farewell to cinema (an interpretation brought on mainly by the fact Erice, who takes his time in between projects, is 83 years old). And yet, there is definitely something crepuscular in this powerful examination of memory and friendship, as a filmmaker is invited to reconsider the mysterious disappearance of his friend and lead actor two decades prior. A metaphysical thriller that builds to one of the most moving climaxes in contemporary world cinema.