The Official Ephram Oliver’s Top 10 Best Films of 2022

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We are only one month into the new year, and 2023 has already brought us the goods (namely early Best Picture contender 80 for Brady), but with Oscar season right around the corner, I’m not quite done talking about the gift that was last year. After the COVID-19 pandemic kneecapped the film industry, causing many films to be delayed or make less-than-ideal box office returns, 2022 felt like the first normal year for movies in a while. Bringing us early best-of-the-decade contenders, 2022 was a great and memorable year for cinema.

Honorable Mentions

There were five films I toyed with giving a spot on this list but managed to find five films I loved more. First, I’ll give a shout-out to Guillermo Del Toro’s stop-motion Pinocchio film, which had a legitimately fresh take on the character by placing his journey in the historical context of pre-WWII fascist Italy. I also want to mention the most underrated movie of the year, BJ Novak’s Vengeance, whose nuanced, post-modern satirical edge stretches far beyond the confines of its fairly standard premise. Glass Onion was another solid and hilarious entry in Rian Johnson’s Benoit Blanc mystery series. The Banshees of Inisherin saw a return to form for Ireland-based comedy-drama director Martin McDonagh. Finally, Bones and All was a moving and frequently gross outing about yet another ill-advised romantic pairing by Luca Guadagnino.

Without further ado, here are my personal picks for the top ten best films of 2022:

10. Avatar: the Way of Water

Depending on which camp you fall into, you’ll either be mad at me for putting the movie this low OR this high on the list. For reasons unclear to most, the merits of James Cameron’s epic interplanetary sci-fi action series is one of the most exhaustingly discussed topics in online film circles with some accusing it of being outdated and derivative and some seeing it as presenting a legitimate challenge to the Marvel throne while maintaining artistic integrity. But I don’t really care about that because this was one of the most joyful cinematic experiences of the year. Cameron’s maximalist filmmaking style is on full display here, basking in the serene beauty of the new underwater world, full of creatures he has created using motion-capture technology and also delighting in some good, old-fashioned spectacular action sequences. The story, in my opinion, is not as engaging as the first, with Jake Sully already fully assimilated into the Na’vi way of life and having no major character arc to speak of. The film smartly shifts focus to his children, the second oldest of which, Kiri, played by Sigourney Weaver, easily steals the show in the film’s incredible third act. While not Cameron’s greatest movie, this may be his greatest achievement and one that I will hopefully revisit on the big screen soon enough.

9. Top Gun: Maverick

If there’s one thing my readers need to know about me, it’s that I am, against my better judgment, a huge fan of Tom Cruise. Personal views aside, I believe he is one of our best movie stars, a towering figure without whom the film industry would be a worse and more boring place. I went in to this, having only a slight admiration for Tony Scott’s original film, and came out of it knowing this would be a full-fledged action classic for years to come. This felt like a nostalgic return to the classic Hollywood blockbuster formula. Everything is broad and grand-scaled and steeped in sentiment. Joseph Kosinski grabs your attention with the astounding, practical flight sequences but also keeps your focus during the more intimate, character-focused dramatic beats. Scene to scene, this thing is so watchable and well-paced, and if there’s any mystery as to why, it’s because it has really great and effective filmmaking with charismatic actors at the center of it. The affinity for Top Gun as a “brand” is pretty minimal among my generation, and yet, almost everyone I know showed up for this thing in theaters and had a blast watching it because it proved to be worth seeing. Mission: Impossible 7 has a lot to live up to when it finally arrives in July.

8. RRR

Rise. Roar. Revolt. I am embarrassed to admit that I watched the Hindi version of this on Netflix on my laptop. I am also prepared to say that it did not diminish my experience at all. If I liked it this much on first watch, can you imagine how it would be if I saw it in a sold-out theater full of mostly Telugu-speaking people, hooting and hollering and throwing confetti along with them? The film is widely known for having some insane, metal moments featuring CGI tigers tearing the necks off British colonial soldiers and two Indian men having an intense dance-off to determine the fate of the universe (eat your heart out, Guardians of the Galaxy). However, what sticks out to me most about Rajamouli’s film is just how powerful and impactful the storytelling is. Without spoiling anything, a major shift in the story occurs at the midpoint during a character flashback whose emotional layers are slowly peeled back as the film continues, and it is a RRRevelation. This movie has inspired me to get more into Indian cinema, and I highly recommend any doubters give it a chance.

7. The Batman

This year was markedly not the best for superhero movies. Marvel put out a whopping eight projects, including Sam Raimi’s first movie in nearly a decade, and was greeted with muted critical responses and relatively moderate commercial success. DC put their faith into the wrong person, as The Rock’s star vehicle, Black Adam, made a drop in the box office bucket. And the internet’s supposed golden child, Dr. Michael Morbius, flopped twice! But there was one bat-shaped symbol shining above them all. Matt Reeves’ take on Batman felt like a natural evolution of the dark and grounded versions of the character by Nolan and Snyder. Unlike the empty and vague gestures towards other genres that films like The Winter Soldier make, this feels legitimately inspired by the gritty mystery crime thrillers of David Fincher. It even has an ending that takes visual cues from Wong Kar-Wai’s Fallen Angels. If it feels like I am lowering the bar and simply praising the director for the great task of simply watching literally any other movie that’s not a big American blockbuster, I am not. The film shows a rare commitment to its tone, has excellent performances from everyone across the board (especially Colin Farrell’s brief, gonzo appearance as The Penguin), features a great new Michael Giacchino score and a well-implemented Nirvana needle drop, and some of Grieg Fraser’s most stunning cinematography to date.

6. AmbuLAnce

I will confess that I am not the most well-versed in Michael Bay’s filmography, but what I have picked up from critical examination of his work is that he’s not a big people person. Even his best-regarded movies such as 2013’s Pain and Gain demonstrate that he is an equal-opportunity hater. This makes his latest effort such an odd entry into his oeuvre because it shows an uncharacteristic amount of compassion for the whole of the human experience. Jake Gyllenhaal’s money-hungry, coked-up Danny or Keir O’Donnell’s queer-coded cop would likely be the subject of mean-spirited parody in one of Bay’s previous films, but here, they are treated as sympathetic people who are, in the words of the film, “just trying to get home.” I think COVID was a wake-up call for Bay. He set aside the Transformers money and decided to make a relatively low-budget, contained action thriller that is about as intimate and humanistic as it gets for Bay. Don’t get me wrong: it’s still loud, non-stop action captured in beautiful sweeping drone shots and kinetic, shaky close-ups. But it’s the empathetic lens through which Bay views the story of these two brothers that makes it one of the year’s most engaging films.

5. TÁR

I cannot think of any film this year that more encapsulates the phrase, “they don’t make movies like these anymore.” Todd Field’s first film in 16 years is a character study so detailed and measured that some have mistaken the central protagonist to be a real person. The movie is such an oddity that the first conclusion some audiences jump to is “it must be a biopic.” This is not to say that the film is necessarily opting for realism. A recent Slate article analyzed the surreal gothic imagery floating in the background of the film. What it is is captivating. This is thanks in large part to Cate Blanchett’s tour-de-force performance. She is so entrancing as this deeply unsympathetic character that we can’t help but be drawn to like the rest of the world. Instead of constructing this as a straight-forward rise and fall morality tale, Field opts for shrewd, ambiguous social commentary. Lydia’s descent into egoism is gradual; the audience loses trust in her as she loses confidence in herself. She is representative of an antiquated ideology, that art stands on its own without any consideration for the ethics surrounding its creation. Her self-mythologization is a pathetic attempt to paint herself as one of The Great Artists as she slowly becomes a parody of herself. Field’s distant, restrained formal approach creates space for the audience to apply their own interpretation. I am sure upon rewatch, I will have entirely new insights on this deeply fascinating and unabashedly modern film.

4. White Noise

One of the most unfairly maligned movies of the year, White Noise lived up to my expectations and proved to be another impressive evolution for writer-director Noah Baumbach. I cannot speak much to the source material, although I certainly picked up a copy after seeing this, but I have no qualms with this as an adaptation. It feels like an expert merging of two distinct writing styles, tackling thematic ideas found in each author’s work with humor and poignancy. The result is a darkly hilarious, transgressively idiosyncratic, and weirdly moving tale about human anxiety in the face of eminent mortality. Praise the overlords at Netflix for giving Noah Baumbach a budget to make a film this large-scale and absurd that shows off how his directing chops have evolved over time. The crosscutting between Don Cheadle and Adam Driver prancing around in dark academia robes talking about the parallels between Elvis and Hitler and the origin of the “airborne toxic event” made for one of the best scenes in a movie this year. The saturated, grainy 80’s look of this thing also deserves praise. This is a film where you have to be truly tapped into its wavelength to appreciate it, which is probably why it’s proven so divisive but also why I think it’s so damn special.

3. Nope

Jordan Peele has made quite a name for himself in recent years. His first two films, Get Out and Us changed modern indie horror forever, renowned for their focus on societal fears over traditional haunted house jumpscares and known for birthing some new iconic horror iconography (The Sunken Place, red jumpsuits and golden scissors) and some amazing turns of phrase (“I would have voted for Obama for a third term if I could have”). However, what those films lacked for me is rewatchability. They both rely on fairly didactic themes and Shyamalan-esque twist structures that, once discovered, presented little reward on rewatch. His third movie, Nope, is a different story. The first time I watched it was actually the weakest experience because, while I was entertained, I was anxious trying to guess which direction the story was going and could not invest myself in the immediate emotional stakes or what the film was trying to communicate. Once I hit play again and knew all the cards laid out on the table, I was able to truly enjoy myself and soak up all the hidden little details. The movie takes more cues from Spielberg than it does Carpenter, so the film is short on truly frightening moments. However here is plenty of subtly unsettling and uncomfortable imagery that puts up a mirror to the audience and asks just how much they are willing to subject themselves to for the sake of spectacle. If it looks, sounds, and feels like this, then I’ll keep consuming it, thank you very much.

2. Decision to Leave

I saw the premiere of Park Chan-Wook’s latest thriller at the New York Film Festival this year where he comically announced that if fans came to this looking for a lot of nudity and violence, they would be sorely mistaken because this was a romance. And he was not wrong! I have only The Handmaiden (a masterpiece) to compare this to, but this is somehow more romantic, more devastating, and funnier than that film. Park takes almost zero interest in the main mystery here because it has almost become auxiliary by the time Park Hae-il and Tang Wei’s characters come together. The film becomes a twisted romantic comedy of errors as the detective begins to suspect her involvement in the crime but desires her regardless. The film takes some interesting turns, but the ending is one of fate and inevitability as the two remain trapped in their roles. Cinematographer Ji-yong Kim and editor Kim Sang-bum seamlessly weave the audience through several perspectives and points in time and employing unique transitions and overlays, the two create a hallucinatory effect. The facts are so muddled that they start not to matter to the characters anymore. The burden of proof lies only in the gut feelings of the audience. For these reasons, the film takes on a lyrical and introspective quality that I have rarely seen in any crime thriller outside of Alfred Hitchcock’s Vertigo. Watching the film on a large screen, it is impossible not to revel at Park’s mastery of the genre and its form.

1. The Fabelmans

This placement won’t be at all surprising to those of you who read my review of it back in December, but I want to reiterate how illuminating and transcendent I find Steven Spielberg’s The Fabelmans in every facet. There are rare occasions where I use the phrase, “this movie is made for me,” but this is a case where it truly applies. Ever since I can remember, I have turned to creative outlets for self-expression. Through art, I can create my own version of reality. After my parents split in 2016, and my sense of family became fractured, creating became less of a want and more of a necessity. Writing stories based on my personal experiences gave me a safe space in which I could reckon with my most internal emotions, reveal my best-kept secrets, and settle my most deep-rooted fears. Sharing those stories felt like sharing a part of myself to the world. So needless to say, I was going to love any movie that dealt with the act of creation in those more complex terms, and the fact that it comes from one of the greatest living filmmakers makes it all the better. The Fabelmans made me feel so many things and feel them all so deeply. I am beyond grateful that it exists and that it came into my life at this particular moment in time when I am on the cusp of adulthood and still figuring out my relation to family and art. This is why I am proud to call it not only the best film of 2022 but also my favorite film of all time. Thank you, Berg. I hope you win big at the Oscars this year. You’ve earned it. ❤️

Thanks for reading!