The 30 best films of 2022 ranked, and don't try to fight us on this

, Pixar’s animated coming-of-age tale about a 13-year-old girl who finds herself uncontrollably turning into a red panda when she gets emotional, is a broadly relatable idea filtered through a very specific lens. The authentic cultural touchstones of Meilin’s Chinese-Canadian heritage are present in every scene, yet the story speaks to everyone who’s been through that awkward time of life. While Mei (voiced by Rosalie Chiang) struggles to navigate her evolving self-image, her mother Ming (Sandra Oh) has a hard time letting go of the child she thought she knew. As is to be expected from Pixar, the animation detail is top-notch—Mei’s red panda form is so fuzzy you want to reach through the screen and hug her. It would probably have looked even better on the big screen, but for some reason Disney decided to send it straight to Disney+, somewhat undercutting any praise the studio might be due for giving a platform to diverse and innovative creators like writer-director Domee Shi in the first place. [Cindy White]

Two models have a lovers’ quarrel. A luxury cruise devolves into explosions of vomit, and worse. A shipwreck. From the twisted mind of writer-director Ruben Östlund comes , his follow-up to Force Majeure and The Square, a film that links these disparate acts into another cock-eyed skewering of the one percent. On top of one of 2022’s most unforgettable sequences—a symphonic crescendo of seasickness that audiences can’t help but feel in their own guts—Östlund deserves recognition for the bonkers yet believable performances he elicits from his actors: Harris Dickinson and the late Charlbi Dean as shallow influencer types, Zlatko Burić and Woody Harrelson as drunks debating capitalism, and especially Dolly De Leon as the last act’s tyrannical survivalist. [Jack Smart]

Do nothing. Stay and fight. Leave. Such are the three choices facing the women of an isolated Mennonite colony who find themselves at a breaking point. Too many of them cannot bear the sexual violence that’s become a normalized part of their everyday lives; yet facing the husbands and brothers and fathers who unleash their anger and frustration on them will surely come at a price—be it spiritual or earthly. The heady and evocative conversation that Sarah Polley’s quietly devastating stages is a thing of beauty, a rallying cry for women’s empowerment that nevertheless makes space for both tenderness and conflict. With a stellar ensemble led by a beatific Rooney Mara, whose face captures the painful power of sisterly grace, and a righteously indignant Jessie Buckley whose body ripples with pent-up anger, Women Talking is nothing short of a triumph. [Manuel Betancourt]

Laura Poitras, the documentarian previously best known for her feature on Edward Snowden, crafted one of this year’s most emotionally affective works with this year’s winner, . The documentary traces the life of groundbreaking photographer Nan Goldin, from her suburban nightmare of a childhood to her impactful activism work against the omnipotent Sackler family. The film pulls at many strings in Goldin’s life: Her fraught adolescence, early career as a photographer, romantic relationships, sex work, involvement in the counterculture of ’80s NYC, her AIDS activism, her P.A.I.N. activism, and death after death experienced in her lifetime. The result conjures a swirl of grief, rage, and heartache over what could have been. In Poitras’ careful hand, a film about a lot of things becomes a film about resilience, being relentlessly yourself, and holding the bastards accountable. [Gabrielle Sanchez]

Let’s see if encapsulating why Damien Chazelle’s belongs on a “best of 2022” list can be done in 150 words or less. The setting: Los Angeles in the 1920s. The plot: An eclectic group of filmmakers and other industry types tries to weather Hollywood’s transition from silent to sound films. The characters: aspiring starlet Nellie LaRoy (Margot Robbie), starstruck climber Manny Torres (Diego Calva), silent era icon Jack Conrad (Brad Pitt), cabaret sensation Lady Fay Zhu (Li Jun Li), a gossip journalist (Jean Smart), a trumpet virtuoso (Jovan Adepo), and, briefly, an eerie mob boss (Tobey Maguire). The verdict: Babylon is so sprawling, so spectacularly ambitious, and so technically impressive with long-take logistics alone, that even if you conclude the whole epic is a mess rather than an opus, that’s by Chazelle’s design too. His Hollywood is a big, beautiful behemoth, and getting swept up in its wake proves irresistible. [Jack Smart]

Epic sci-fi, bonkers horror-comedy, and of course high-flying spectacle were the main reasons 2022 became the year audiences dared to return to the cineplex. But for a beautiful, all-too-brief week in November, a different genre film arrived to remind us there are other ways to make moviegoing an edge-of-your-seat experience. At my screening of , Rian Johnson’s return to the Benoit Blanc-verse, that phenomenon was literal; audience members were upright in their chairs, exclaiming with panicked delight at—spoiler alert—the movements of a drop of hot sauce. If you have no idea what I’m talking about and have yet to experience the pleasures of this most scintillating of murdery mysteries, I envy the fact that you get to watch Daniel Craig and scheme against rich buffoons for the first time. [Jack Smart]

Luca Guadagnino’s cannibal love story, an adaptation of Camille DeAngelis’ novel, explores the horror and beauty of love and survival, and whether both are attainable for outsiders desperately hoping to find their place in a country that longs for normalcy. When Mare (Taylor Russell), a young woman with the insatiable urge to eat human flesh, meets Lee (Timothée Chalamet), a young man with the same affliction, the two travel across the backroads of America in search of her mother while being followed by a child-minded cannibal, Sully (Mark Rylance) in search of companionship. A travelogue steeped in Americana, feels like Terrence Malick’s Badlands meets Stephen King. It uniquely blends horror and romance in a way that doesn’t sacrifice the stakes or genre commitments to either. [Richard Newby]

isn’t a perfect movie, but there are times when it feels like it’s tantalizingly close. In his feature directorial debut, Elegance Bratton’s very personal story about a young gay soldier subverts the familiar tropes of military dramas that center on a lost soul whose enlistment helps them find whatever they are searching for—most often themselves. For his variation, based on his own life, Bratton tells a timely, emotionally honest, and heartfelt tale that threads a compelling narrative around inspired thematic tentpoles. The movie tackles how hard it is for many to accept who they are in the face of society and its institutions’ expectations. Gabrielle Union gives a career-best performance as Inez, the mother of Jeremy Pope’s conflicted Ellis, who is as unpredictable with her moods as she is raw with her estranged son. Their relationship is the broken yet beating heart of this story as The Inspection explores the vitality of empathy in a world that could sorely use some. [Phil Pirrello]

One of the year’s earliest knockouts came in the form of Kogonada’s , set in a not-too-distant future where we invite A.I. humanoids into our homes, our lives, and our families. Colin Farrell leads the film as tea shop owner and father Jake, who wakes up one day to find the family’s “techno-sapien,” Yang (Justin H. Min), unresponsive. At first, Jake and his wife Kyra (Jodie Turner-Smith) cling to the inconvenience of Yang’s absence, before the true feeling of loss creeps in, particularly for their young adopted daughter (Malea Emma Tjandrawidjaja). As it becomes clear Yang will not be returning to the family, Jake begins to dedicate himself to learning about his pseudo-child’s life—and what that meant for him. From there, After Yang slowly blossoms into a story about the importance of the smallest moments in life, and a rumination on loss and kinship. [Gabrielle Sanchez]

From the dreamy coast of Croatia comes Antoneta Alamat Kusijanović’s debut film , a coming-of-age story starring Gracija Filipovic in her debut feature role. Though Murina marked a lot of firsts for the people involved, the Martin Scorsese-backed work is a stunning, restless film about the trappings of adolescence, and the inherent desire for independence. Filipovic’s unruly Julija contends with her abusive household by spending time near the ocean, donning a signature blue one-piece with a spear in hand (for catching eels, of course). The cinematography work by Hélène Louvart (The Lost Daughter, The Beach Of Agnes) brings the visual aspects of Murina into striking focus, casting sunshine over the foreboding tale. [Gabrielle Sanchez]

Extending the story of a tiny, kind mollusk, and gave the once-viral sensation Marcel The Shell his own full-length feature, crafting one of the year’s most touching and humorous films along the way. While is cute by nature (it’s a small talking shell with sneakers on for crying out loud), the film offers a potent message on the importance of finding ways to move forward through loss and change, as clinging to the past prevents the building of a brighter future. It’s a hard lesson for anyone, making Marcel The Shell fit for everyone—despite the childlike demeanor of the main character. It’s a rare slice of comfort and charm that’s not trying to be anything other than itself. [Gabrielle Sanchez]

As she approaches her 40th birthday, Empress Elisabeth of Austria sees her world shrinking. She detests the royal duties that come with her title and has no way of attracting her own husband into bed. She aches for more but cannot find ways to satiate such meager wants without losing herself in the process. With a wondrously fierce performance by Vicky Krieps at its center, follows a year in the life of the Empress as she wrestles with her melancholy and her grief. Capturing a malaise that despite its 19th-century trappings remains wildly modern and timely (how much agency can a woman have over her own life, her own body, her own future?), writer-director Marie Kreutzer’s film is a sumptuous achievement, a beautifully adorned window into a woman’s increasingly claustrophobic inner life and the leaps (!) she’s ready to take in order to avoid her preordained fate. [Manuel Betancourt]

James Cameron has done it again. improves on the first film in nearly every way. Set years after the events of the original, the sequel finds Jake Sully (Sam Worthington) and Neytiri (Zoe Saldana), along with their children, on the run after Quaritch (Stephen Lang) returns in an Avatar body and begins hunting them. The spectacle of it all is obviously a major draw; the unmatched mo-cap, effects work, and 3D enhancement are unlike anything you’ve ever seen. It’s a fully immersive environment with underwater sequences designed to make audiences hold their breaths. But as impressive as all of that is, it’s The Way Of Water’s simple yet universal story of family, fear of loss, connection, and faith in an era where we feel increasingly isolated that makes the film emotionally resonant. There’s a sincerity exhibited in this triumph of a film that is deeply necessary right now. [Richard Newby]

Everyone who saw in 2022 raved about the film. That’s what tends to happen when audience members cross paths with the great Park Chan-wook, who’s less a storyteller than a seducer, whose films, from Joint Security Area to The Handmaiden, have given us intoxicating theatrical experiences, and who surely will continue to reign as one of South Korea’s most audacious auteurs. Decision To Leave, perhaps the year’s most romantic yet also most fucked-up film, works largely because of the pitch-perfect performances of Tang Wei as a newly widowed woman and Park Hae-il as the detective investigating her husband’s murder. By the time its tension-releasing conclusion arrives, we’re as obsessed as Park’s character—one of those edge-of-your-seat experiences where we take comfort in the feeling we’re at a great filmmaker’s mercy. [Jack Smart]

Among Tom Cruise’s recent run of character-driven blockbuster fare, is arguably his best. Working with co-writer (and frequent collaborator) Christopher McQuarrie, Cruise and director Joseph Kosinski take a deep dive into the “danger zone”—past the surface-only thrills of Tony Scott’s iconic first film—and mine Maverick’s past as the hot shot pilot struggles to forge a future that’s about more than feeling the need for speed. “All the feels” is what the filmmakers find and, in turn, compel the audience to experience as they enjoy more than just an action movie with really great cinematography and even better editing. It’s a movie about fathers and sons, about the sacrifices men like Maverick make so that we don’t have to. Top Gun: Maverick effortlessly threads its thematic ambitions around white-knuckle action set pieces that drag you to the edge of your seat by the heartstrings. Sequels don’t get much more satisfying (or rewatchable) than this. [Phil Pirrello]

The self-mythologizing nature of a screened nostalgia has long been a staple of Steven Spielberg’s filmography. It makes sense then that he would turn a fictionalized take on his own childhood and upbringing (penned alongside none other than frequent collaborator Tony Kushner) into a meditation on how filmmaking helped the once-budding director come to understand himself and his family. But while may, on its surface, appear to simply be a gorgeously realized slice of postwar autofiction, Spielberg’s latest is also a probing self-examination of what it means to see the world through cinematic eyes—whether that be through sun-dappled homemade family movies, ambitious Boy Scout projects, or even school-sanctioned senior assignments. As dazzling and entertaining as any of the filmmaker’s early projects yet filtered through the mature lens he’s lent to his 21st-century work, this family drama is anything but familiar. [Manuel Betancourt]

If you thought Everything Everywhere All At Once was cuckoo bananas, wait till you get a load of the Telugu-language Indian action-adventure . S.S. Rajamouli directs the holy hell out of this CGI-loaded insanity fest that, as far as we can tell, is about a British military officer in 1920s India who teams up with a tribal leader and revolutionary to save a young girl. That’s only a sliver of the plot but it’s enough to propel three hours of high-energy dance numbers, frenetic chase scenes, daring rescues, and outrageously entertaining stunts that defy gravity mostly because they’re all done in front of a green screen. Not that we care, because RRR is a colorful, crazed, quicksilver delight. Packed with culturally specific political intrigue and Tollywood characters that most U.S. audiences never come across, RRR is one of 2022’s must-watch movie experiences. [Mark Keizer]

“” How is the year’s most devastating line of dialogue so simple? How does the friendship break-up in have higher stakes than any austere drama or apocalyptic sci-fi-fantasy? Only writer-director , his singularly bleak (and quintessentially Irish) sense of humor, and his powerhouse duo of returning collaborators Colin Farrell and Brendan Gleeson have the answers. Even wilder to think about, because we at The A.V. Club think about such things, is that another line may just tie for year’s most devastating: Barry Keoghan’s delivery of “Well, there goes that dream” to Kerry Condon is so acutely felt it’s essentially self-immolation. [Jack Smart]

Who won the battle of the multiverses this year? A24’s may not have come close to matching the box-office success of , but come September only one of them was still playing in theaters, and it wasn’t the film from Marvel. These days it’s rare to find people still talking about a movie a month after its release, let alone nine months later, but Everything Everywhere refuses to follow the conventional rules of filmmaking. This extraordinary film seemingly came out of nowhere last spring and proceeded to dominate pop-culture conversations for the remainder of 2022.Directing duo , known collectively as the Daniels, threw everything they could think of at the screen (and sometimes on a bagel), creating a visual spectacle that challenges the audience as we follow the characters through one bonkers alternate universe after another. The eye-popping production design and technical tricks are just window dressing, though, for a deeply emotional story about generational trauma and the yin-yang balancing act of a life fully lived. Michelle Yeoh shows off her range and versatility in the lead role, landing comic beats as deftly as she lands punches and kicks. Co-stars Ke Huy Quan, Stephanie Hsu, and Jamie Lee Curtis all rise to meet her at her level. Thanks to the life they breathe into this film it hasn’t left us yet, and probably never will. [Cindy White]

Todd Field’s opus about the eponymous conductor whose intellect, expertise, and eventually entitlement leads to her downfall is not merely the best film of the year, but the one that epitomizes its zeitgeist (and the conflicts within it) better than any other. Cate Blanchett’s force-of-nature performance is so commanding that you might almost forgive Lydia Tár for the excesses of her position and the power she wields over everyone in her life; she manages to be powerful and persuasive even when she’s wrong—or outright villainous. But Field’s examination of a female authority figure’s #MeToo-ish reckoning forces an examination of privileged enclaves, and a necessary complexity on cultural boogeymen like “cancel culture” that cannot—and should not—be easily resolved. Even at the film’s end, her borderline tyranny is inextricable from her undeniable brilliance, which is why is a symphony whose notes will—and must—be revisited, debated, and discussed for years to come, long after its initial, mesmerizing thrall has taken hold. [Todd Gilchrist]