/Film's Top 15 Movies Of 2022

Over the past week, the /Film editorial staff has published their personal lists of the best movies of 2022. And it all comes down to this: one final list representing the entire site. Our overall top 15 favorite movies of the year. And as you can see from the list below, it was one helluva good year for folks who like cinema. 

Naturally, this list could never contain every favorite movie from every personal list, but once we crunched the numbers, this is where the chips fell. And what chips! A brutal anti-war movie. A delightfully honest Pixar romp. The most bombastic action/musical/bromance of all time. An unlikely blockbuster masterpiece. An unforgettable journey through the multiverse. Steven Spielberg. Guillermo del Toro. Jordan Peele. Daniel Craig with a southern accent. It's hard to look at this list and not find at least one (or two, or three, or 10) movies that you deeply and powerfully love. 

As we say goodbye (and good riddance) to 2022, let's tip our hat to the very best movies that made the past year bearable. 

The sentiment "now more than ever" has all but completely lost its meaning after the last three years. What better time than now to revisit Erich Maria Remarque's seminal and unflinching 1928 novel about the horrors of war? As interpreted by director Edward Berger and co-writers Berger, Lesley Paterson, and Ian Stokell, "All Quiet on the Western Front" is a bleakly cold and unglamorous adaptation of already brutal source material. Of course, it moved me to tears. It horrified me, and certain moments had me begging and pleading at the screen. (Ariel Fisher)

Edward Berger's 2022 adaptation of "All Quiet on the Western Front" is the first major adaptation since Universal released its groundbreaking film 1930, and marks really the first time the story has been told by a German filmmaker. Berger's take on the material is transcendent; he takes the original pacifist message of the novel, uses gritty, historically accurate, but then implements a contemporary score that really melds beautifully with the story being told. It is uncomfortable, but in the way that a war film should be. (Sarah Milner)

Know that "Prey" also has the same subversive outlook as "Predator" when it comes to critiquing macho strutting and the limits of trying to overpower your enemies. Toss in the reverent, Malickian imagery of untarnished natural landscapes by director of photography Jeff Cutter and the film's dynamic yet cohesive action scenes, and the results are one heck of a genre mashup. (Sandy Schaefer)

Sure, it helps that the kills are absolutely brutal and that it's a genuinely entertaining watch. But Amber Midthunder's performance as Naru is what sets "Prey" apart from other attempts at revisiting the wild and violent fun of the "Predator" series. Dan Trachtenberg's direction and the efforts of the entire production team made a lot of people feel seen and like they belong, but this Comanche-language action movie is so memorable because it's an absolute banger. It really is as simple as that. (Ariel Fisher)

There's a quote from the great drummer Steve Jordan that I occasionally think about: "Simplicity is not stupidity." This movie is simple, yes, but there's a power in that simplicity and a confidence in its storytelling that I found incredibly refreshing. Let me put it another way: I watched this on a plane, and it still ended up as number 3 on my personal list. That's how good this movie is. (Ben Pearson)

Jenny Slate's voice for Marcel in "Marcel the Shell With Shoes On" is as cute and memorable as how tiny Marcel looks. The film had a long journey to the screen, starting out as three-minute shorts that director Dean Fleischer-Camp put together. Marcel is painfully adorable, but what makes the film stick in my brain is the endearing relationship Marcel has with his grandmother, Connie, who is voiced by none other than Isabella Rossellini. The film is funny and sweet, and it makes you want to hug your family and/or friends when it's over. (Vanessa Armstrong)

"Babylon" is an operatic, bombastic experience, and as cheesy as it can occasionally be, you can feel the passion and the personality coursing through the whole thing. It's debatable whether this is Chazelle's equivalent of continuing to play music on the decks as the Titanic sinks (have you heard? He really loves jazz), but as Hollywood stumbles through one of the most tumultuous periods in its history, I can't help but admire what he's going for here. (Ben Pearson)

Despite being focused on the late 1920s and early 1930s of classic Hollywood, "Babylon" is about Hollywood at any given moment or time. No matter how many deplorable stories come from behind the scenes, no matter how many famous faces come and go, no matter how often crappy movies outnumber the good ones, there's still movie magic being created every single year. "Babylon" is a big swing, and though box office reports are painting it as a big miss, this movie will be one that sticks with us for years to come. (Ethan Anderton)

As skillful as Pixar's artists have gotten at creating realistically rendered computer-animated worlds, there's something to be said for those occasions where they're allowed to remind us of the true joy of animation: Its ability to capture what real life feels like, not how it looks. Domee Shi's "Turning Red," I'm pleased to say, is one such occasion. It's a film that goes beyond paying loving homage to the motifs and certain iconic visuals from the vast, varied world of anime (although it does that too) to replicating its vibrant spirit and kinetic energy. (Sandy Schaefer)

The way "Turning Red" addresses the hormonal changes of adolescent girls and the societal stigma around periods that really hit me. For a perfectly healthy person who doesn't have to contend with menstrual issues or mental illness (I have Generalized Anxiety Disorder, ADHD, and PCOS, and menstruation makes life debilitatingly difficult), periods are still a nightmare. Domee Shi's "Turning Red" is a deeply moving testament to that — the debilitating pain, mental fog, and emotional fluctuations, as well as the shame and mockery that accompanies bleeding through a pad or tampon — and the need to break the cycle of oppressive misogyny, both internalized and societal. (Ariel Fisher)

"Turning Red" is a powerful film about breaking the cycles of generational trauma and learning to define your identity in the face of parental expectations. It's also open and honest about the natural changes that come with growing up. When Mei first starts turning into the panda, her mother believes she's gotten her first menstrual period, a moment that had some close-minded parents calling for a boycott of the film. On a purely technical level, the film is also a groundbreaking achievement in animation, combining the "CalArts style" that Pixar is known for with the styling of anime. (BJ Colangelo) 

As a Canadian millennial, I found the world welcoming and familiar; as a former teenager, I found the coming-of-age story almost painfully relatable. It's thoroughly charming and easily one of the year's best films. (Sarah Milner)

Colin Farrell, in one of three great performances this year, is achingly sad as the father, who grapples with his memories and his affections for the malfunctioning robot. There's a sequence here where Farrell and Min discuss tea that's so lovely and so sweet in its simplicity and beauty that I could watch it over and over again. (Chris Evangelista)

There's a mastery of tone on display that few other working directors possess; to watch a Kogonada movie is to fully step into a world where the filmmaker has not only thought through every aspect of what you're seeing, but is also able to wrangle all of the elements in order to achieve that vision. Nothing feels compromised. Everything feels meticulous. And while some filmmakers can get lost in the technical details, Kogonada always brings a warmth to his movies that sets them apart. (Ben Pearson)

No matter what's going on in our lives, there's always beauty to behold somewhere, even if it's not instantly recognizable. "After Yang" serves as the perfect reminder that sometimes the most inconsequential memories and observations can be the most potent. (Ethan Anderton)

Zach Cregger's horror film "Barbarian" was one of the biggest surprises of 2022, and no other movie this year matched the "anything could happen" vibe this one gave me in the theater. What begins as a simple mix-up where Georgina Campbell books the same Airbnb as Bill Skarsgard quickly becomes something far more sinister, and I loved the way the movie's unexpected structure kept me on my toes. (Ben Pearson)

Few horror films have taken twists and turns as shocking and expectation-defying as "Barbarian" in recent memory. But it would be one thing if all the movie had to offer was a wild, unpredictable ride. It's the way it deploys its devious red herrings and narrative misdirection in service of a story about privilege — be it based on race, gender, or, when it comes to some of the film's most subtle commentary, economic status — that makes "Barbarian" not just a frightening, surprising work of cinema, but also a legitimately great one. (Sandy Schaefer)

I love this movie so damn much. I was surprised to love something so bleak that deals with such uncomfortable and painful subject matter, but I spent the duration of "Barbarian" laughing, smiling, doing my best Leo Pointing impression, and screaming to no one but myself about how brilliant it is. As is often the case, the less you know about "Barbarian" going into it, the better its impact. (Ariel Fisher)

Zach Cregger's darkly funny and brutal examination of safe spaces and the insidious underbelly of the American home is a delirious trip that is sure to discombobulate even the most seasoned horror fan. Freely rotating between gross-out nastiness, stomach-churning dread, and audience-pleasing wildness, "Barbarian" is the total package and the announcement of a new important name on the modern horror scene. (Jacob Hall)

Steven Spielberg gets ultra-personal with "The Fabelmans," a film based on his own childhood. But this isn't Spielberg waxing nostalgic about his past — it's the filmmaker examining his own origin story. It's also about Spielberg grappling with the one event that has seemingly colored all of his movies — the divorce of his parents. A younger Spielberg blamed his father for the breakup, but the adult Spielberg now recognizes the complexities of what happened. The film is also about how Spielberg, represented by the avatar Sammy Fabelman, learned to both love movies — and love making them. (Chris Evangelista)

Spielberg is one of the best in the business, and he brings his everything to "The Fabelmans." He has the audience in the palm of his hand; watching this film, you're taken on an emotional journey that you can't look away from. This is Spielberg's life on film, and we're all so lucky to see it. (Sarah Milner)

Steven Spielberg is one of the greatest filmmakers of all time. Full stop. At this point in his career, it would be easy for Spielberg to direct a film about his own complicated childhood and adolescence that celebrates the power of following your dreams and the magic of cinema, complete with some winks and nods to what would become his acclaimed filmmaking career. It's a testament to the greatness of Spielberg that his semi-autobiographical film "The Fabelmans" isn't defined by any of that. Yes, it certainly touches upon them, albeit in surprising ways, but the what makes "The Fabelmans" work so well is how introspective Spielberg gets, not just about himself, but the complex family dynamics that would become the driving force of his filmmaking career. (Ethan Anderton)

For the first time, the greatest living filmmaker truly turns inward and the largely autobiographical "The Fabelmans" is a sweet, sad, and specific look at why artists create art, and how our personal baggage will forever sit on our shoulders — we just need to find a way to carry it. Although Spielberg can't help but make a rousing, funny, emotional movie full of characters we love and moments that make us cheer (those filmmaking sequences!), this is The Beard at his most introspective, crafting moments of such stunning specificity that they can't help but feel torn straight from reality. (Jacob Hall)

Great action was expected. What I didn't expect was how effective the film would be when it's on the ground. Through its structure, which basically turns it into a heist film, we get characters laying out a seemingly impossible task and then spending the entire movie attempting to exceed expectations, trying and failing over and over again until Cruise, with his mega-watt star power, actually achieves the impossible. If you look up the definition of "crowd-pleasing" in the dictionary, I suspect the entry will have been updated to include a reference to "Top Gun: Maverick." No other movie left me more satisfied in 2022. (Ben Pearson)

Though "Top Gun: Maverick" follows in familiar footsteps, it also takes things to another level with a stealth fourth act that has Tom Cruise and Miles Teller teaming up in an even more thrilling way than everyone expected. It's an undeniable triumph, and you'd be hard-pressed to find a more satisfying blockbuster this year, especially one that you feel compelled to watch again and again. (Ethan Anderton)

I admit I had very low expectations for "Top Gun: Maverick." It was a sequel I wasn't yearning for, especially in this age where reboots and revivals of old IP are more common than some would like. The movie, however, blew me away — not only were the action scenes impressive, but it also has moments of Tom Cruise giving impressively emotional performances, especially in that scene with Val Kilmer (you know the one). It was a true cinematic experience, and one of the first I've had in years. I laughed, I cheered, I even teared up a bit. What more could you ask from a film like this? (Vanessa Armstrong)

There's something to be said about a movie that is so effortlessly entertaining while being constructed with such craft and care. A decades-late sequel to "Top Gun" shouldn't be one of the best movies of the year, but here we are: "Top Gun: Maverick" is a bold, handsome, brilliantly entertaining reminder of what a Hollywood blockbuster can accomplish. (Jacob Hall)

Leave it to Guillermo del Toro to take "Pinocchio," a centuries-old fairy tale that infamously teaches kids to obey their superiors and never misbehave, and refashion it into a boldly anti-fascist parable. On top of that, del Toro and co-director Mark Gustafson's re-imagining is a passionate ode to the value of imperfection, as well as a poignant fable about humanity and the ways in which our mortality is the very thing that gives real purpose to our lives. (Sandy Schaefer)

I'm a sucker for darkness in children's movies (hi, "The Secret of NIMH"), so between "Matilda the Musical" and "Guillermo del Toro's Pinocchio," 2022 was a treat. Scripted by del Toro and "Adventure Time" writer Patrick McHale, and co-directed by del Toro and experienced stop motion filmmaker Mark Gustafson, "Pinocchio" blends Carlo Collodi's original tale with elements from Mary Shelley's "Frankenstein" to create the ultimate saga of morality, monsters, and complicated father-son relationships. (Hannah Shaw-Williams)

This is not your Disney "Pinocchio," nor is it some lame Tim-Burton-esque grim-dark re-imagining. The film is brutal at times and a bit scary, but it all serves a purpose. All the best del Toro themes are here: fascism, death, Catholicism, childhood innocence, paganism — what more could you want? The voice acting is impeccable — that was actually my biggest issue with "Wendell & Wild," but in this Netflix film, the director does a better job of getting emotion out of the performers. (Sarah Milner)

We all know the story of Pinocchio, and while 2022 saw the ignominy of the Disney "live-action" version of the story, we were also blessed with Guillermo del Toro's beautiful stop-motion rendition of the tale. The story that del Toro and co-director Mark Gustafson tell is darker than the one you likely know, but it's also devastating beautiful, especially with the creation of the characters, from the craggily crafted Geppetto (voiced by David Bradley) to the scruffy visage of the monkey, Spazzatura (surprisingly voiced by Cate Blanchett), to — of course — Pinocchio himself (voiced by Gregory Mann), a boy cobbled together in grief that, in the end, gives his papa (and you, most likely) such terrible joy. (Vanessa Armstrong)

Rarely has an old story felt so fresh, so new, so relevant, and so damn alive, and by the time the film redefines what it means for the title character to become a "real boy," you'll be weeping too hard to think straight. (Jacob Hall)

Jordan Peele crafts genuinely unnerving scenes and then combines them with laugh-out-loud moments that combine into a wholly unique spectacle, one that reminds us yet again that Peele is one of the most interesting filmmakers working right now, able to combine horror and comedy to great effect. No one is doing it like Jordan Peele right now. (Chris Evangelista)

The movie's about spectacle, and there are infinite layers that we'll hopefully dissect for many years to come. The same was (and remains) true about "Jaws." But at the end of the day, "Jaws" was a creature feature, an exciting, entertaining exploitation flick made with the skill of an auteur. So is "Nope," and it's a hell of a lot of fun. (Ariel Fisher)

"Nope" is one of those films that begs the viewer to rewatch it over and over again, as the deeply layered stories of exploitation, revisionist history, spectacle, and obsession overflow with riches that cannot be contained after just one screening. "Get Out" completely changed the landscape of horror, and "Us" more than proved that Peele's success was not a fluke, but "Nope" has surely solidified his place as one of the genre greats. The cinematic landscape is so much more interesting when shown through Peele's lens, and a hell of a lot scarier. (BJ Colangelo)

This is a story that needs time to sink in. The "Gordy's Home" subplot is haunting, and although it's not immediately clear how the tragic past of Ricky "Jupe" Park (Steven Yeun) fits into the present-day story, the thematic parallels emerge after the fact. "Nope" is one of those stories that is engrossing in the moment, but its true power is how it lingers rent-free in the minds of viewers after the fact. As /Film's Chris Evangelista states in his "Nope" review, Peele's third film is a "true summer movie spectacle" — but unlike most blockbusters, this one leaves a mark. (Sarah Milner)

"Nope" is a movie that sticks with you. The film has often been called Jordan Peele's love-letter to cinema, but it's also about the dark side of Hollywood — how the industry can literally eat you up and spit you out in a thousand bloody pieces. Peele's imagery also sticks with you, particularly the flashbacks to Ricky "Jupe" Parks' (Steven Yeun) experience as a child actor when his co-star on a sitcom, Gordy the Chimp, maims and/or murders several people. You can't tame the beast of Hollywood, and the image of that shoe standing straight up will be stuck in my headspace for a while. (Along with the shots of Jean Jacket's digestive tract.) (Vanessa Armstrong)

The results are terrifying and thrilling and reminiscent of the very best of Steven Spielberg, another filmmaker who can't help but crank out masterpieces that simultaneously please the crowd and spark the mind. Here is a filmmaker who speaks the language of cinema so fluently that you can just get lost in the many parts, which have no right to click together as well as they do. (Jacob Hall)

Bigger, funnier, and more surprising than "Knives Out," Rian Johnson's second Benoit Blanc mystery "Glass Onion" is one of the most entertaining movies of the year. Johnson peppers in enough clues to make this mystery inherently rewatchable, but it's a treat no matter how many times you check it out. (Chris Evangelista)

The other thing that makes "Glass Onion" such a hoot is the way it layers its meta-textures. Its various cameos, be they in-person or voice-only, are often in-jokes stacked on top of other in-jokes, which only adds to the fun. As one member of my family (whom I saw the film with) replied when another one asked what [REDACTED] was doing in the movie, they're "having a good time." Clearly, so are Johnson and all other concerned parties. (Sandy Schaefer)

"Knives Out" was a tough act to follow, but writer/director Rian Johnson doesn't miss a beat with "Glass Onion," introducing a new collection of rich a-holes and throwing Blanc into the middle of them to peel apart the layers of their motives, petty grievances, and lies. Everyone in this stacked cast (but particularly Kate Hudson) seems to be having a lot of fun, and as a fan of the mystery genre in general, it's a pleasure to see Johnson pick apart and subvert its tropes while still serving up an unpredictable and twisty mystery tale. More, please! (Hannah Shaw-Williams)

What makes "Glass Onion" so outstanding isn't just its modernized Hercule Poirot avatar, but rather its welcomed scrutiny of white supremacy, fragility, and mediocrity. When faced with the prospect of being rendered obsolete, irrelevant, or powerless, every single member of CEBro Miles Bron's (Edward Norton) entourage fall in line in order to keep their seat at his ostentatious table. And all of this is at the expense of Andi Brand (Janelle Monáe), the one person who ever told him "no." (Ariel Fisher)

With "Glass Onion," Johnson doesn't try to merely echo or recreate the formula that made "Knives Out" such a hit. Instead, he offers up something bigger, funnier, and somehow even more relevant. With another all-star cast, including Edward Norton and Janelle Monae as the new standouts, the murder mystery is nothing short of gripping, especially with a narrative structure that completely changes the game halfway through the movie. That doesn't even include the whip-smart and fast-paced dialogue that Johnson packs into this thing, including great lines like, "It's a dangerous thing to mistake speaking without thought for speaking the truth," a line that really does sum up the times in which we live. (Ethan Anderton)

With "Glass Onion," Rian Johnson manages to follow up his critically and financially successful whodunit "Knives Out" with a murder mystery that's even more complex and satisfying. Daniel Craig slays once again as Benoit Blanc, the world's most famous detective with a Foghorn Leghorn accent, and the star-studded ensemble cast knocks their roles out of the park. The numerous cameos are also a delight, and served as sprinkles on what was already a delightful ice cream sundae of a mystery. It's also a movie I can't wait to watch again, as (no spoilers!) certain scenes take on a whole new meaning once you know how events unfold. (Vanessa Armstrong)

Rian Johnson has found a formula that just plain works: a darkly comedic mystery carried on the shoulders of a brilliant rotating ensemble, anchored by Craig's increasingly entertaining Blanc, swirling around a core of social commentary that lends the frothy proceedings a vicious bite. Benoit Blanc, one of the great characters of 21st century cinema, is the southern fried moral crusader we need, and the fact that Rian Johnson is already working on a third film is the best kind of good news. (Jacob Hall)

This movie is a comedy, kind of? It's also a tragedy, and a drama, and a film full of violent sentiments and cut-off fingers and phenomenal performances across the board. It wrenches you between emotions, from laughter to sympathetic despair, to muted horror. (Vanessa Armstrong)

Director Martin McDonagh's script deliberately plays things close to the vest while also giving us unique, understandable portraits of both men as they drift further and further apart, their friendship becoming some sort of distant memory swallowed up by sadness. (Chris Evangelista)

McDonagh pulls off a subtle magic trick here: A stripped-down tale about the breakup of a friendship becomes an examination of contentment vs. ambition, and by the end, those low stakes suddenly feel pretty damn consequential after all. (Ben Pearson)

It's not often I see a movie I would describe as "sad." I'm not talking about films that deal with inherently depressing subject matter or misery-fests that lay on the contrivances under the belief that showing people suffering equals depth. To be "sad" in the sense I mean is to embrace a type of existential despair that stems not from huge tragedies or immense calamities, but the kind that comes from knowing our lives are all sad on some level, no matter how much daily joy we might garner or how we decide to spend them. (Sandy Schaefer)

There's a beautiful ballast to this tale of loneliness and despair in the subplots of Pádraic's sister, Siobhán (Kerry Condon), and local gom Dominic (Barry Keoghan). Tightly scripted and gorgeously shot, there's a strong case to be made that "The Banshees of Inisherin" is the best movie of the year. (Hannah Shaw-Williams)

Writer/director Martin McDonagh has been exploring the nearly invisible line between comedy and misery since "In Bruges," but "The Banshees of Inisherin" represents him at his most brutal and his most empathetic. Pitch-dark comedy and raw devastation intermingle in every moment of this endlessly watchable but undoubtedly painful exploration of a broken friendship, with Colin Farrell and Brendan Gleason offering up the best work of their careers as two lifelong buddies who find themselves at odds and create chaos in their isolated Irish community. (Jacob Hall)

"The Banshees of Inisherin" dares audiences to take a long hard look at themselves not for the sake of judgment or punishment, but as an exercise in self-awareness. And in that, it succeeds beautifully (and painfully). (Ariel Fisher)

Everything that makes us happy will ultimately come to an end, so it can be hard to get a grasp what the point of all of this is. "The Banshees of Inisherin" doesn't necessarily have any answers. But this heartbreaking story certainly feels like it might make those struggling with depression feel a little less alone. (Ethan Anderton)

A musical. A buddy comedy. A romance. A bromance. An action pic. A historical epic. A political statement. "RRR" is all of that, and more. It is not just the best movie of 2022, it's the most movie of 2022 — a joyously big extravaganza that has to be seen to be believed. Every bit of hype you've heard about this film is justified, and then some. "RRR" is nothing short of a reminder of why movies exist — and how wonderful they can be when given the freedom to be big. (Chris Evangelista)

Stefon from "Saturday Night Live" might say that "RRR" has it all: Two best friends forced to do battle, pompous British soldiers, an explosive bridge rescue sequence involving a horse and a motorcycle, a fight with a lion. And don't look now, but it's a carefully choreographed musical number that turns into a dance-off that brutally embarrasses a sniveling weasel of a man. (Ethan Anderton)

The way Rajamouli stages action set pieces puts even my beloved "Fast and Furious" movies to shame — physics don't matter as much as fluidity, and every fight is shot as if it's the most important thing its characters have ever done. The whole movie feels that way: There's an ineffable, larger-than-life vibe to the proceedings that is addictive to watch. I felt giddy watching this. It seemed like every five minutes, there was a new contender for my favorite movie moment of the year. (Ben Pearson)

In a year where a handful of Hollywood tentpoles made a valiant effort to combat blockbuster fatigue, it was Indian filmmaker S. S. Rajamouli's historical Tollywood barnbuster "RRR" that really knocked it out of the park in that regard. Take an utterly sincere brom-com, a wholesome rom-com, an exhilarating musical, a bar-raising action movie, an earnest melodrama, and a brazen propaganda piece, and toss it all into a blender. What do you get? A three-hour extravaganza that puts the "max" in "maximalist epic." (Sandy Schaefer)

But what's really special about "RRR" — even more so than Ram (Ram Charan Teja) doggedly battling his way through a crowd of hundreds to arrest a single protester, or Bheem (Nandamuri Taraka Rama Rao Jr.) somehow managing to both sing and stay on his feet while his back is whipped to bloody shreds — is the relationship between the two heroes. All of the action and drama and ludicrous stunts are ultimately in service to the story of Ram and Bheem's friendship. It has both epic highs and tragic lows; after they meet for the first time, there's a lengthy montage of them becoming friends, scored with a song about the formation of their friendship and the perils it faces. (Hannah Shaw-Williams)

It cannot be overstated: "RRR" is one of the best movies of the year. It's audacious, outlandish, and feverishly entertaining in a way that makes its otherwise intimidating runtime fly by. I wanted more of it! After just over three hours! It really is something you just have to see to believe (or understand, really, because the elevator pitch for this movie completely undersells it), and you will like it. "RRR" is probably the most fun I've had watching a movie all year, and for such a difficult and painful year, that counts for a lot! (Ariel Fisher)

There's a little part of me that still doesn't believe "RRR" exists and that this life-affirming movie was just an elaborate hallucination because it feels impossible that the fated timelines allowed me to exist at the same moment as a film like "RRR." S. S. Rajamouli has been putting out cinematic treasures for decades, but "RRR" is beyond comparison. Action and adventure? Got it. Bromance for the ages? Got it. Anti-colonialism mentality? Got it. A rousing dance number with perfect choreography? You betcha. High-octane fight sequences? How's three hours worth? "RRR" contains absolutely everything that makes going to the movies a religious experience for fans of cinema and does so with an unapologetic amount of heart. (BJ Colangelo)

It's safe to say that you probably haven't seen anything quite like this movie before, and that when the fastest three hours in human history are over, you'll probably be annoyed that most films aren't "RRR." (Jacob Hall)

Daniels, the team that brought us "Swiss Army Man," came roaring back with the bombastic, weirdly funny, tear-jerking "Everything Everywhere All at Once." Wild, overlong, over-the-top, and big on warm emotion, "Everything Everywhere All at Once" was one of the year's biggest and best surprises. (Chris Evangelista)

"Everything Everywhere All at Once" is bursting with so many ideas that it feels like dipping into the multiverse was the only way to narratively contain them all. Michelle Yeoh, Ke Huy Quan, and Stephanie Hsu give three of the finest (and most multifaceted) performances of 2022, and no other film this year was able to approximate the feeling of being alive in this bizarre and overwhelming era. (Ben Pearson)

There are many ways one could (and people have) read "Everything Everywhere All at Once." An analogy for clinical depression. A metaphor for the internet. An allegory for the Asian-American experience. The year 2022 if it existed as a work of cinema. The live-action "Ratatouille" remake we deserve but Disney's too cowardly to ever produce. There's a whole lot of movie in Daniels' maximalist (there's that word again), mind-bending, multiversal mind-trip, so it's only natural the film should be interpreted in vastly different yet equally valid ways. (Sandy Schaefer)

Movies are powerful and movies have power, and sure, maybe falling in love with "Everything Everywhere All At Once" makes me a normie, Film Twitter™ loser, but I found a reason to keep on surviving thanks to a movie that features a dildo fight, a Randy Newman-voiced raccoon chef, Jamie Lee Curtis with hot dog fingers, and a boss-battle with visible butt plugs stuffed between cheeks and no one can take that from me. (BJ Colangelo)

I know I won't be the only one who lists "Everything Everywhere All At Once" in my Top 10, but hey, it's a great film! Michelle Yeoh, Ke Huy Quan and Stephanie Hsu all kill it in their lead roles, with Hsu in particular deserving a supporting actor award or two for her bombastic performance. The movie gets wacky (real wacky) as Yeoh's character, Evelyn, traverses the multiverse, including one timeline where she and her daughter, Joy (Hsu), are "talking" rocks. But what makes the film so great is its exploration of pain and love, as well as intergenerational conflicts and expectations. It will make your open your googly eyes and see the world and those you care about in a new, kaleidoscopic light. (Vanessa Armstrong)

Aside from the life lessons we can learn from "Everything Everywhere All At Once," this is also an impeccably crafted film that makes phenomenal use of a limited budget for such an ambitious film. Sparing digital effects, creative camera work, expert martial arts choreography, and a truly original story combine to deliver one of the most fantastic, finely-tuned features of the year. (Ethan Anderton)

This is a masterpiece of kitchen sink filmmaking, of artists throwing everything at the screen and watching, miraculously, as the results feel as anarchically cohesive as an actual human soul. A blend of science fiction and action, of big ideas and low comedy, "Everything Everywhere All at Once" is the antidote to the modern landscape, a movie about how everything is a big, impossible mess, and the only solution is to be kind in the face of it all. (Jacob Hall)

Watching "Everything Everywhere All At Once" felt like the first day I took Adderall: euphoric and transformative. All of a sudden, everything made sense. That day, my mind was quiet for the first time in over 32 years. My dog's fur felt softer because I could focus on the sensation. I deliberately sat in silence for hours simply because I could. I essentially had to re-learn how to process emotions because everything was so overwhelming, I felt like I was meeting myself for the first time. Like Evelyn (Michelle Yeoh) learning skills from different parts of the multiverse, it was like I was learning to feel again, and meeting myself for the first time in my life. (Ariel Fisher)

Evelyn's journey goes from the mundane to the absurd. We get action fight sequences punctuated with confetti and hot dog fingers. We get philosophical conversations about the meaning of life. Googly eyes abound. Yet, the heart of the Daniels' "Everything Everywhere All At Once" is what makes the film the best of 2022: The story looks nihilism in the face and laughs — sure nothing matters, unless you want it to. We are small and insignificant, but that's okay. We're allowed to be. What matters is the relationships we foster in life, including our relationship with our self. (Sarah Milner)

That might sound like an odd statement to make about a movie where a raccoon secretly controls a chef by pulling his hair, there's a universe where people have hot dogs on their hands instead of fingers, and there's a fight scene where two of the combatants unlock skills by putting objects up their bums. But in "Everything Everywhere All At Once," the silliness isn't arbitrary or gratuitous or simply there for comic relief. There's a point to it, and the point is this: " There is always something to love. Even in a stupid, stupid universe where we have hot dogs for fingers, we get very good with our feet." (Hannah Shaw-Williams)