Song Sung Blue is a messy, overstuffed, tonally schizophrenic musical biopic held together almost entirely by two phenomenal performances and an earnest heart. Flawed but fascinating, unhinged yet sincere, this is a film I admired more in pieces than as a whole, but one I won’t be forgetting anytime soon.

In this conversation, the Film Focus Online team delve into their favourite films of 2025. They explore the performances of actors, the direction styles of filmmakers, and the emotional impact of various films. The discussion also touches on anticipated future releases and the disappointments of the year, providing a comprehensive overview of the current film landscape.

Marty Supreme is thrilling, stressful, hilarious, and deeply uncomfortable in the best possible way. It’s not an underdog sports story, and it’s not just another Safdie anxiety spiral, it’s a madcap character study powered by ego, obsession, and the delusional thrill of believing you’re destined for greatness.

James Cameron proves he can deliver unmatched spectacle and filmmaking craft, but sadly the franchise seems to already be in the mode of rehashing beats from the previous films with very little new added to it.

In an era where “true crime” and documentaries as a whole have been hollowed out into content sludge, Predators stands out as one of the most intelligent, ethically challenging documentaries I’ve seen in years.

Fackham Hall won’t convert anyone who already hates spoof comedy, and it definitely outstays its welcome by a few minutes, but as a broad, silly, relentlessly stupid satire of British period dramas, it mostly does the job. A fun, disposable cinema watch that proves parody still has a pulse, even if it’s occasionally not landing the punchline.

Seeing Kill Bill in this form has only strengthened my belief that The Bride’s journey is one of Tarantino’s finest achievements. It’s everything he loves about cinema, revenge, emotion, music, mythology, genre, and sheer cinematic joy distilled into one four-hour odyssey that's as sharply written, packed with unforgettable characters, heart and extraordinarily violent action.

Dogma is finally back where it belongs, in Kevin Smith’s hands, and once again gracing the big screen in a new 4K remaster for its so-called “25th Anniversary” (actually 26th, but who’s counting).

Sisu: Road to Revenge is a film that knows exactly what it is and runs with it to absurd levels. Gloriously over-the-top, gleefully gory and pushing the boundaries of how silly things can get.

Christy is a tough, uncomfortable, and surprisingly engaging take on the real-life boxer as a person as well as a fighter.

A constantly uncomfortable, darkly funny and extraordinarily intrusive assault on the senses from Mary Bronstein.

Frankenstein is a near masterpiece of emotion, craft, and imagination that reanimates Mary Shelley’s tale for a new generation.

Tron: Ares dazzles on the surface but collapses under its own digital flashiness. It’s gorgeous, sleek, visually stunning, and Nine Inch Nails' score is absolutely incredible.

Lurker is a sleek, tense, and deeply uncomfortable dive into modern obsession, powered by a phenomenal lead performance and sharp, confident direction.

Play Dirty isn’t unwatchable. There are flashes of fun, Stanfield is a delight, and if you put it on in the background while you doomscroll, it’ll do the job.

Americana isn’t a disaster, just a messy, half-baked experiment that juggles too much.

It’s ultimately a hollow spectacle: nice to look at, easy to watch, but not something that will last in your memory.

Honey Don’t! is just a big nothing. A messy, unpolished, frustratingly empty film that squanders its cast, its premise, and its potential.

It’s a crime thriller, yes, but also a cultural statement about power, music, conscience, and the price of success.

It may not dive as deeply as the books, but it remains largely faithful, funny, and watchable, which makes it a masterpiece by Netflix Original standards.