Pajiba’s Top Ten Films of 2023

By The Pajiba Staff | Film | December 23, 2023 |

By The Pajiba Staff | Film | December 23, 2023 |

The year is almost over. But before you curl up with your Christmas dinner and look out booze for the perfect Hogmanay party, it’s time to check out our favourite films of 2023. This was a season of fascinating works, from billion-dollar blockbusters to auteur-driven passion projects to outright madness. We were truly spoiled for choice, and Team Pajiba’s votes for the top ten of 2023 were extremely varied. Everyone submitted a list, we tallied up the scores, and this is what we got. Not too shabby, if we do say so ourselves.

10. MAY DECEMBER

‘Moore and Portman are both at the top of their game here, delivering flourishes of Almodovarian camp alongside terrifying chasms of emptiness. These two and their tabloid Persona deserve one another. And while Elizabeth’s exploitations obviously pale in comparison to those of Gracie, neither of these women are commendable creatures. Elizabeth is perfectly willing to blow up real lives for the sake of her shitty movie, and she will do anything to get where and what she wants and needs. Her line to Joe after a particularly callous and exploitative act on her part, about this is just how grown-ups act, is particularly chilling given the context, which she is fully aware of, of what this man’s been through.’ (Review)

9. JOHN WICK: CHAPTER 4

‘That sprawling and diverse cast and frenetic action is combined with a world-hopping series of sets and absolutely stunning cinematography, music, and lighting to create what may well be the strongest entry in the franchise. Joh Wick: Chapter Four rarely lets off the gas and even though it is a bit overlong with its almost three-hour runtime, it feels like a blink. When the film catches its breath for a few moments to allow for some exposition, it doesn’t feel like drag, it feels like a water break — necessary and fulfilling. Yet you’re only given a handful of minutes before the gas is stomped on again and Reeves and company punch, kick, stab, shoot, and bash their way through the next opulent, spectacular set piece.’ (Review)

8. ANATOMY OF A FALL

Justine Triet won the Palme d’Or for her placid yet gripping courtroom thriller that was far more interested in our preconceptions of guilt than the truth of it. Sandra Hüller, who had one hell of a year in 2023 between this and The Zone of Interest, plays a novelist whose husband dies under mysterious circumstances. She is immediately viewed as his possible murderer and must fight the legal system to prove her innocence. Is she actually innocent? Triet doesn’t care. It’s more about the process than the twist. Hüller is steely but not emotionless, yet her refusal to be the ‘perfect’ defendant exposes the ways that misogyny and queerphobia taint the system. The forensics of a murder case are both mundane and horrifying, stripped down to cold hard evidence but never entirely divorced from the agony of grief. In a year where a lot of major movies took cynical views of the true crime genre, Anatomy of a Fall felt like the most intellectually invigorating examination of its perils.

7. GODZILLA MINUS ONE

‘Eventually, it becomes clear that Godzilla Minus One means to be a treatise on recovery and healing wounds that seem impossibly deep—it has some of the same anti-bureaucratic inclinations that Shin Godzilla did, continually taking the government to task for its secrecy and inaction, and trying to place the hopes of Japan in the hands of its people. There’s a stirring yet somewhat bewildering (given this context) appropriation of the Dunkirk story that begs for an on-the-ground way forward; for people to rise up and force the way. But for all of its epic stomping around this is still an extremely intimate tale, using Kōichi’s one-man-mission to illustrate what war and violence takes from us, and how the battle to get back to ourselves can feel fully apocalyptic. Godzilla Minus One swings enormous—its emotions are writ as large as that blessed lizard—and it will shake you right where you sit.’ (Review)

6. OPPENHEIMER

‘Murphy is a singularity of an actor whose career only ever grows more fascinating. He has remarkable range, but chameleonic is not the right term; he has never been the sort of performer to disappear into a role. With his distinctively piercing gaze and cutting jawline that fooled a generation of young British and Irish men into thinking they, too, could pull off a fade in the wake of Peaky Blinders, he might not be a household name in the US, but he’s a very recognizable face. No, Murphy does not disappear into roles; he does something more fascinating […] Never before has Murphy had such a major platform to display his abilities and he more than rises to the occasion. He pulls off a lot of heavy lifting in conveying Oppenheimer’s internal struggles through performance, particularly in places where the dialogue falls somewhat short, although there are limits.’ (Review)

5. ASTEROID CITY

‘Asteroid City turns out to be boxes inside boxes inside boxes—at one point the characters of Asteroid City (the play) put cardboard boxes on their heads in order to witness an astronomical anomaly through pinholes and mirrors, and more of a wink wink nudge nudge as to Wes Anderson’s intentions we might never get. Indeed in many ways Asteroid City feels like a key text to understanding Anderson’s beautiful madness—the characters give several speeches about their inability to connect directly with the world in front of them, and actors desperately seek out the answers to motivations for their character’s irrational, and thereby deeply human, behaviors. To the point where they break the fourth wall, literally, and start stepping through a stage door that suddenly appears on the side of the crater. It’s Bergman-esque existential disorientation by way of Mel Brooks.’ (Review)

4. THE BOY AND THE HERON

‘Miyazaki has always understood the treacherous nature of growing up, that catch-22 existence of being forced into adulthood yet never being appropriately prepared for it. Spirited Away, perhaps still his magnum opus, soars in its portrayal of a pre-adolescent girl’s journey to self-realization through the traditional hero’s journey and its melding with Japanese folklore. Here, the fairytale aspects are evident but never prioritized over Mahito’s growing inner strength. He’s a smart kid dealing with trauma, grief, and a literal world war. The supernatural infringing on his life is barely a surprise. It can’t be any more unfair than reality, right? He’s not petulant, nor is he cloyingly mature. He’s a good, if understandably angry, young man who wants to stay good as everything threatens to overwhelm him. Even if you’re furious at a world that’s going to hell, it’s worth fighting for your own humanity and that of others.’ (Review)

3. KILLERS OF THE FLOWER MOON

‘And there is only one way you get to landing a moment this evocative and emotionally affecting, where a relationship we’ve lived in can be abstracted out to silent theatrical excess and still tell us all we need to know, and that’s by taking your damn time. A whirlwind of characters and scenarios swirl around these two—Molly’s extended family and community and Ernest’s side-show parade of vagabond bastards picking their bones clean—but Scorsese smartly drops this traumatized couple, emblematic of it all, at the center of the storm. And they leave you aching, shaking with anger and regret—at one point Ernest says regret is all he has left and Scorsese makes us understand that singular truth so profoundly that we’re all implicated. We are regret manifest.’ (Review)

2. PAST LIVES

‘Famously, one of the reasons why the Mona Lisa is acclaimed as one of the greatest portraits of all time, is due to the expression on the subject’s face. It is ambiguous, unreadable, and perplexing, inspiring countless debate as to its meaning and provenance. There is a shot in Past Lives that reminded me of this, and that has stayed with me ever since the credits rolled. As we observe the trio of Nora, Hae Sung, and Arthur in the bar, the camera ever so slowly pulls in, gradually isolating Nora in the frame. At the last moment, just before we leap back in time to her childhood, she turns her head slightly, her eyes finding the camera—and by extension, the unnamed pair speculating about the trio, as well as the audience. As if to cue up the story, Nora smiles ever so slightly, a knowing look in her eye. For the life of me I haven’t been able to figure out the meaning behind this look, and that compels me no end.’ (Review)

1. THE HOLDOVERS

‘For Payne, The Holdovers is a welcome return to form, with a twist. It’s a sharply observed and grounded character study that juggles comedy and drama with impressive dexterity; a highly specific world populated by distinctive, deeply flawed characters—all the hallmarks of the filmmaker’s oeuvre to date. But there’s a warmth here that feels new and different for Payne […] For Payne’s many strengths as a filmmaker, his earlier films tend to have a bitter aftertaste; a sharp sense of humor with a habit of punching down at characters already brought low. In The Holdovers, Payne has managed to maintain that same keen-eyed insight, but without the sense that the film itself is an active participant in the torment. It’s a rare and remarkable balance to hit; a tale with all the heart of Dead Poets Society but markedly more grounded, stripped of the more plasticky sheen of Hollywood polish.’ (Review)