The Best Movies of the 2020s So Far

The story of the Von Erich family is excruciatingly sad, but Iron Claw doesn’t dive right into the tragedy. Instead, it takes care to paint a picture of a close-knit family that’s filled with just as much warmth, jealousy, affection, and resentment as the next bunch. Durkin masterfully draws you into their circle so that everything that happens next is sure to cut deep. The choreography, chemistry, color—everything is carefully and beautifully set up, but the casting is what stands out the most. This wouldn’t have worked as well if it weren’t for the inspired move to pair Zac Efron, Jeremy Allen White, Harris Dickinson, and Stanley Simons as brothers and partners. On the internet, people have been dubbing The Iron Claw as “Little Women and The Virgin Suicides for men” and it’s not hard to see why. Apart from the sibling bond over glory and growing pains, all these films are also powerful explorations of gender. Iron Claw is a vicious takedown of toxic masculinity, while also being a searing family drama and an incredible showcase for Efron and company.

Angle is very open about his ups and downs in this documentary. It takes us through the biggest chapters of his life as a freestyle wrestler: from his intense “exhaust training” regimen that would make you guilty about your workouts; to the infamous tournament where he would break his neck and go on to win an olympic gold medal anyway; to making the transition to pro wrestling where his intensity would reward him—as well as cost him—the prime of his career. It’s an inspiring, well-produced sports documentary, and a lot of it can be attributed to Angle’s detailed memory and willingness to tackle stories head on.

Nat Geo is still the champion of pristine nature documentaries: the skies, the seas, the snow, and the coloring everywhere is divine. But the serene seaside in Scotland, combined with the reflective, poetic musings about love from Billy and Susan isn’t just cutesy light viewing. I’m confident it can heal an exhausted person. This documentary is a mesmerizing meditation on love and connection, on the things that unite people and other creatures. It might feel like a chunky 77 minutes, especially in the latter half given the pace it goes by, but it’s a warm experience that you instantly know you’ll want to revisit.

“The healing power of art” sounds cheesy, but it’s a statement made beautiful and true in Ghostlight. It’s the sensitively told and wonderfully performed story of an ordinary man who, up until this point, doesn’t even know how Romeo and Juliet ends. That’s how detached he is from art. But when Rita (Dolly de Leon) pushes him into the arena, he surprises himself and his family by being receptive to it. It’s the only way he can get in touch with his feelings, which is vital since he’s gone through an unspeakable loss recently. What that loss is isn’t immediately revealed in the film, but the small details snowball and eventually pummel you to the ground with its sheer tragedy. You’re either grinning or crying watching this, there’s no in-between. But if there were, you’d probably be marveling at the trio at the heart of this film: the family played by a real-life family. Keith Kupferer, who plays Dan, Tara Mallen, who plays Sharon, and Katherine Mallen Kupferer, who plays their daughter Daisy, are all compelling and dazzling in their own ways.

They did it. They took advantage of Pinoy movies’ penchant for sappy writing and used it to deliver on its premise. Coming into it blind more-so, you see the violent shift in writing and energy, with everything feeling more relaxed, organic, and truthful after the premise sets in. But they take that subversion a step further by unironically sticking with the sappy elements and not drowning in them; using dramatic backstories, catchphrases, and the staple recurring ’80s theme song to tease and anchor the drama throughout. By Filipino drama standards, it might be an unconventional family film, but with how well they used the tropes, it might also be the quintessential Filipino family film.

It starts off with a cinematic intro sequence, flexing a big budget standup show that you’d only expect from a Hollywood star like Adam Sandler. But there are also elements of “lines being blurred,” with the pre-show frenzy backstage being carried over onstage. With a bizarre atmosphere firmly established, Sandler delivers his set like what I can only describe as an upbeat Jake “The Snake” Roberts, nonchalantly talking about his bizarre everyday interactions. He also delivers many of these stories in quick song format, with lyrics that sound like someone muttering under their breath about their grim day (or life). Just a fun, odd, and even emotional storytime with Adam Sandler.

This stagelike historical drama is about a meeting between Malcolm X, Jim Brown, Sam Cooke, and Muhammad Ali, the night Ali became world champion and announced he became Muslim.

And here is the thing: Malcolm X and Muhammed Ali have been portrayed many times in film, but never with this much nuance. Their relationship with each other is often frictional and their relationship to their faith is recognizable: they’re not always sure about it, and they take breaks.

Ali smuggles alcohol without Malcolm knowing, Malcolm is accused of being obsessed with celebrity (and later of colorism), Jim Brown is insecure about being an actor, and Sam Cooke wishes he wrote a Bob Dylan song.

Fire of Love is a documentary that follows Maurice and Katia Krafft, a scientist couple who’ve dedicated their entire professional lives to studying (and marveling at) volcanoes. The two met at university and have been inseparable ever since, chasing explosions around the world until their death at the Mount Unzen eruption in 1991. 

The fiery passion the title refers to is as much about Maurice and Katia as it is about their dedication to volcanoes. Like any love story, it tracks how they were first wonderstruck by the formation and how that awe shaped their lives and led them to each other, as well as how they came to discover hard truths about it and dealt with the heartbreak that soon followed. 

Combining the breathtaking footage the couple left behind with lovely writing and artful animation, director Sara Dosa creates a moving documentary about passion, adventure, and the world itself. 

The Kings of the World is a surreal coming-of-age movie that follows Rá, Culebro, Sere, Winny, and Nano, street kids who are on their way to claim land that’s rightfully theirs. Their one goal is to finally make a home after living without one for so long, but they’re hindered by the inevitable tragedies that befall kids of their kind: impoverished, alone, and abandoned.

The title is ironic, but it also hints at their state of mind: these boys are unstoppable, rabble-rousers who live like there’s no tomorrow. They tear down private property and invade inns not out of spite, necessarily, but out of a knowledge that whatever they do they’re gonna be put down anyway, so they might as well live without rules.

Tackling powerful themes like land restitution and youth neglect, The Kings of the World is one of the most agonizing movies you’ll ever see. It’s also Colombia’s official Best Foreign Language Film entry in the 2022 Academy Awards.

A healthy mix of despair and self-deprecation has always been Bo Burnham’s signature, but Inside takes it to the next level. It’s a deconstructed film, rather than a simple one-night special; a one-man-show that constantly undercuts itself. Even more so, it sabotages its own immersive qualities and explores the depths of self-loathing by turning oneself into comedy material. Some may say, it’s a classic move, but the pandemic reality and Burnham’s unkempt look predispose us to embrace all the cringe (YouTube reactions), quirkiness, (the sock puppet), and frightening angst (suicide jokes) he puts forward. Emotional rawness and a polished DIY look fits the Netflix bill, but as far as the content goes, this one goes straight to the world heritage lockdown archives.