My ranking of all the movies I saw in 2025 is here on Letterboxd. I find myself rather apathetic about writing up most of that list here, since John already covered a lot of my top 10 and Colin’s list is basically my remaining watchlist from the last year. So, in honor of the Mildly Pleased Awards which are probably not happening this year, here’s a write-up of my favorite movies from last year that aren’t those eighteen.
When I think back to TV in 2025, the thing I’ll most likely remember are the Seattle Mariners. I love to have M’s games on during the half of the year that baseball exists and this most recent team was actually worth watching all the way into October. Mostly that’s because they won the division and Cal Raleigh was the best player in baseball, set a bunch of home run records for catchers and switch hitters and American Leaguers who aren’t Yankees, and won over much of the nation with his prodigious dumper. I managed to go to a whole bunch of games and saw some iconic moments in-person, including Naylor’s playoff clinching double and Geno’s grand slam, but I’ll remember just as many amazing moments watched in the comfort of my own home. Except that one playoff game I decided to watch at my parents’ house…
Other than live sports? I dunno. There are always lots of good stuff to watch and I feel like I’m never in sync with anybody anymore. Oh well. Here are some shows I thought were pretty good.
Reader beware, this is my one annual opportunity to write about what I think is going on with music and I’m not gonna waste it! The main thing I’m thinking is: is everything going to shit or am I just getting older? Music tends to be a bellwether for where other media will end up going and 2025 was the first year that AI “musicians” started generating millions of streams on Spotify, which sure is discouraging. Except when you realize that millions of streams still isn’t that much money going to whoever uploaded that slop, especially relative to the enormous cost they probably spent to game the system and get into peoples’ feeds. Also we’ve seen that most of us, when given the choice, will loudly proclaim we prefer actual human artistry… which is admittedly a low bar for hope in our species. But at least it seems like, right now, we clear it?
On the other hand, the art of curation seems to be on the way out. It’s getting harder and harder to find good criticism as more and more iconic outlets are shuttered or left critically understaffed in the name of short-term profit maximization. When I was in college my dream was to write at a place like The AV Club. It was too hard for me to seriously try in 2011. Is it even a viable career path at all today? I mean hell, MTV went off the air a few days ago. And the record labels themselves? They are busy laying people off and turning to TikTok to find new artists. The algorithms, man! I’ve come to realize a lot of people now fully depend on their streaming apps to find new music. It makes me feel so old that those discover playlists just don’t click with me! I still rely on places like Paste, Pitchfork, KEXP, fuckin’ TV show and movie soundtracks, and, of course whatever Colin decides is worth writing about to add to my streaming music library.
Speaking of, here’s something: Paste’s #2 and Pitchfork’s #1 album of the year is not on Spotify or Apple (don’t worry, I haven’t heard it yet either, my bad). That’s a great reminder that the resurgence of physical media has continued; with vinyl, CD, and cassette sales growing again last year and seemingly a similar phenomena happening in film with Blu-rays. Look how big the Criterion Closet has gotten on social media! And don’t forget, the problem isn’t streaming — it’s that streaming is rigged against the artists. It used to be bands toured to support the album, now they release albums so they can tour (which has turned legacy acts like Oasis into the biggest shows but that’s a whole other thing). The music industry has never been more consolidated than it is right now, with a few people at the few remaining, gargantuan labels keeping almost all the money for themselves. At the same time, it’s never been easier to make music and share it with the world. Where we are right now is unsustainable. Again, I take solace that most people want to invest human artistry and share experiences with each other. I don’t know what will happen next, but maybe there is a glimmer of hope just over that horizon?
After three posts where I struggled to even find anything resembling an interesting angle to write about, I conclude my Shocktober with a movie that overwhelmed me with too many options. Not one to lightly repeat himself, Edgar Wright’s return to the horror genre after Shaun of the Dead was highly anticipated, especially after a pandemic delay. Last Night in Soho was hyped up as a proper spooky story, without the comedy elements Wright was known for, as well as his first film with women as main characters instead of just love interests. Was that too much of a departure for him to handle? Yeah dude.
Ghost Ship opens with a shipload of people getting bisected and ends with a profoundly unsatisfying explosion/sinking sequence that shows that five years of technological advancements was not enough to bridge the gap between a $20 million movie and James Cameron’s ten times more expensive Titanic. And, you know, right now, where I’m at in my life, that’s enough. Steve Beck wasn’t trying to be the next James Cameron, he just a guy who liked naked lady ghosts.
The 13 Ghosts remake, playfully titled Thir13en Ghosts, is a challenging movie to rate. It’s a tight 90-minutes of campy, extremely 2000s filmmaking. It’s also a horror movie that’s not scary at all, with an objectively dreadful script. So what should I do with that? I guess it’s really all in that title: a silly leetspeak rendering of a cult classic gimmick movie. At the time, I could understand critics ripping into 13 Ghosts. But now? Now it’s a nostalgic link to the days when I would have maybe rented something like this for a sleepover.
If you want to know what “blank check” filmmaking is like, look no further than Robert Zemeckis in 1999. In the middle of shooting the cursed Cast Away, they decided to take a long hiatus so that Tom Hanks could lose a bunch of weight and grow his hair and beard all crazy. I don’t know how you’re supposed to spend your break away from a technically-innovative, $90 million-dollar A-list project shot on location on an island in Fiji, but Zemeckis decided to take his crew and shoot another $100 million-dollar movie with even more A-listers. What Lies Beneath is a profoundly Hitchcock-influenced thriller starring Michelle Pfeiffer, that white gold, and Harrison Ford, that grumpy old. Was Zemeckis biting off more than he could chew? You know, I’m not sure.
