Thirty-something musicians commandeered my ears this year with genre-agnostic albums (the sonic perfection of Rock A Bye Baby, Glimmer of God by Jean Dawson, my favorite, which blends decades of various musical influences; the confessional Lost Americana by mgk; Something Beautiful by Miley Cyrus; and Lux by Rosalía) as well as returns-to-form (Mayhem by Lady Gaga and The Life of a Showgirl by Taylor Swift) although I found the latter less consistently interesting than the other four. Does this mean Chiffon is growing up? Not really, because Lola Young, a 24-year-old whose talent seems to have been at least temporarily derailed by demons, claims the #1 song this year with "Post Sex Clarity," although I played "Cathedral," "Life of Ophelia" and "Orpheus" almost as much. BTW, Taylor Swift, the self-proclaimed English teacher, alludes to classical literature far more proficiently than the sobered-up mgk, but his lyrics elicit an empathy that the smartest woman in pop music seems to have lost with her world domination and engagement. Also, sequence is important to Chiffon which is why Lily Allen's "P***y Palace," the flip side of a much lower-wattage celebrity romance, follows "Ophelia."
"Of the undiscovered country" by Max Richter (from Hamnet)
"DEAD" by Sudan Archives
"Room of Fools" by FKA Twigs
"Jealous Type" by Doja Cat
"No Champagne (6am)" by Cautious Clay
"Crumb" by Antony Szmierek
"Don't Let Me Drown" by Burna Boy (from F1)
"Don't Wanna Cry" by Selena Gomez & benny blanco
"we never dated" by sombr
"Prize Fighter" by Jean Dawson
"Shapeshifter" by Lorde
"Zombie" by YUNGBLUD
"Slow Down & Shut Up" by King Princess
"Everybody Scream" by Florence + the Machine
"Bonnet of Pins" by Matt Berninger
"Fist" by Mya Folick
"I'm Your Dirt, I'm Your Love" by Yung Lean
"tell me what's up" by MGK
"twilight zone" by Ariana Grande
"Archangel" by Olly Alexander
"Sunset Blvd" by Selena Gomez & benny blanco
"My World" by Conan Gray
"Secrets" by Miley Cyrus (featuring Lindsay Buckingham & Mick Fleetwood)
"Remember My Name" by Sam Fender
"Cathedral" by Kesha
"orpheus" by MGK
"Henry, come on" by Lana del Rey
"Dancing in the Club" by This Is Lorelei & MJ Lenderman (MJ Lenderman version)
"Oh My Days" by Orville Peck
"Fire" by Alessia Cara
"Serious" by Indigo De Souza & Mothé
"Too Pretty for Buffalo" by Baby Nova
"Post Sex Clarity" by Lola Young
"Wonderful Life" by Tom Odell
"Song for Henry" by Loren Kramar (from On Swift Horses)
"The Fate of Ophelia" by Taylor Swift
"P***y Palace" by Lily Allen
"Shadow of a Man" by Lady Gaga
"Lovin Myself" by Ava Max
"Walk of Fame" by Miley Cyrus (featuring Brittany Howard)
"End of Summer" by Tame Impala
"Let's Ride Away" by Avicii (featuring Elle King)
"Telia" by mOat & Helsloot
"Kimpton" by Barry Can't Swim & O'Flynn
"Love Shop" by YOTTO & Something Good
"Last Forever" by Bob Moses
"Before You Break My Heart" by Jade
"Even in Arcadia" by Sleep Token
"Chemistry" by Gigi Perez
"Fruit Bat" by Of Monsters & Men
Books (25)
It's so hard to pick a favorite in this category; there's nothing quite like a long-overdue reading of a classic, from both female and male perspectives (George Eliot and Thomas Hardy). And then there's the discovery of an heir apparent to an old favorite (Joshua Cohen/Philip Roth) and the resonance that comes from reading male authors who write about semi-contemporary lives, whether they be gay or straight, fictional or biographical (Alan Hollinghurst and Dan Nadel). But this year the girls edge out the boys with writing about topics that quickened my septuagenerian pulse: Miranda July's WTF feminism, which made me question if I really do know women at all and Curtis Sittenfeld's fairy tale, set in the world of Saturday Night Live, which perfectly mirrored my own fantasies of professional success and fairy tale love.
Movies (92)
I won't rehash movies released just last year, except to say that nearly all were the equal of two old favorites (Midnight Cowboy and Gods & Monsters) which hit harder when I rewatched them decades after they were made, and are emblematic of filmmaking that values adult emotional engagement over big box office returns. In Better Man, perhaps 2025's most creative risk, director Michael Gracey and Robbie Williams allowed an ape to take the British pop star's greatest hits to ecstatic new heights, especially in "Rock DJ," which made me happier than anything else I saw on screen in 2025. Mickey 17 is the first great film of the Resistance and its poor performance at the BO suggests our worldwide nightmare is far from over. Kudos to the Film Forum for screening J'Accuse, a brilliant film that the very cancelled Roman Polanski made about the Dreyfus Affair several years ago (an aside: in a sign of how censorious our times have become in some respects, no one batted an eye when Polanski directed Tess, Thomas Hardy's tale of a nymphet milk maid's "seduction" in 1979; on the other hand, look at Sorry, Baby which characterizes the ego destruction caused by sexual assault in a nuanced way that would been inconceivable as recently as the end of the 20th century). Nouvelle Vague offers a knowing and accessible romp through the French New Wave, even for someone who far preferred the sexual chemistry between Jean Seberg and Jean-Paul Belmondo to Jean-Luc Godard's guerrilla filmmaking, plus it offers very persuasive evidence that Richard Linklater may be the most versatile movie director of our time.
But for now, Sentimental Value and Marty Supreme, for entirely different reasons are my favorite movies of 2025. Like Jay Kelly, Sentimental Value addresses the collateral damage of a successful dad prioritizing his career over his daughters but whereas Noah Baumbach's Netflix streamer offers mostly star power, Joachim Trier's Norwegian movie does an extraordinarily deep--and rewarding--dive into tortured family dynamics. The exhilarating energy and unpredictability of Marty Supreme reminds me a lot of Anora, last year's entirely deserving winner of the Academy Award for Best Picture. Both movies, named for their title characters and anchored by what may very well be career-best performances from their pole-dancing and ping-ponging stars, depict young and not always sympathetic New Yorkers on the make. Their subcultures, populated by supporting casts every bit as indelible as Mikey Madison and Timothée Chalamet, may be different (contemporary Russian emigres on Coney Island vs post-World II Jews on the Lower East Side) but their determination to leave behind humble beginnings by any means necessary is identically immigrant American. Religious, racial and historical themes--brought to vivid life with an undeniably sweet (!) Holocaust memory and a humiliating encounter in the living room of a Heritage American, played to perfection (oblivious or ironic, I'm not sure which) by a capitalist reality television star--give Marty greater heft but don't weigh it down. Instead, they provide indie filmmaker Josh Safdie an even better shot at winning Hollywood's top directing prize than Sean Baker had with Anora.
Better Man (T)
Anora (T)
September 5 (T)
Hard Truths (T)
I'm Still Here (T)
Conclave (T)
Mickey 17 (T)
Black Bag (T)
The Friend (T)
(T) denotes film seen in theaters too often with assholes, young and old, who can't resist looking at their phones although in another indication of Marty Supreme's non-stop, immersive appeal, due in no small part to Jack Fisk's gritty and realistic period production design, I didn't have to reprimand anyone. If he wins an Oscar, he and wife Sissy Spacek will finally have his and hers for their mantle! They met on the set of a top candidate for my all-time favorite movie, Carrie.
Theater (14)
Two terrific shows on this modest list (Saturday Church and Liberation), were directed by the same woman, Whitney White, who really knows how to keep things moving, and whose work showcases the importance of community and reslilience while living in an unsympathetic world. Prince Faggot provocatively examined a controversial "what if?" scenario, exposing the hardships of unimaginable privilege while giving eloquent voice to the downtrodden who still manage to find greater fulfillment. And despite its uninhibited depiction of interracial mansex, Jordan Tannahill's thoroughly modern conceit seemed tame in comparison to Robert Icke's devastating update of Oedipus, a classic 500 years older than Christ. As the merch says, "Truth is a motherf**cker."
Streaming (49)
Four HBO series, two vintage and two current, proved that escapism remains the most effective way to cope with our current state of affairs, which Marc Maron skewered perfectly in Panicked. Girls and Looking, which turned myopic narcissism into comfort food, debuted before the slow but steady flush of the American experiment down the toilet. History's long lens, a uniformly delightful cast, the inimitable wit of Julian Fellowes and the costumes of Kasia Walicka-Maimone make the excessive wealth and (mostly) white social climbing in The Gilded Age go down deliciously, while Industry, whose uncertain initial run was crippled by the pandemic has morphed into an over-the-top take, as addictively entertaining as it is unabashedly cynical, on what happens when self-interest trumps all. If tragic documentary is your thing, look no farther than PeeWee Herman As Himself or OJ Simpson: Made in America, both of which indict the social climate that celebrated their cult- and crowd-pleasing talents. The Narrow Road to the Deep North woke me up to the fact that Jacob Elordi is this generation's Marlon Brando. Taylor Kitsch played a reluctant hero in the ultra-violent American Primeval that both red and blue America could love (thank you Peter Berg), just as Sterlin Harjo created a white savior character for Ethan Hawke in The Low Down that even the wokest person could excuse for his good, if often ineffectual intentions. If Lena Dunham's new limited series didn't rise to the giddy heights of Girls, which sagged a little in later seasons, it reminded me of a mantra coined by a weed-loving guy I knew in college: enough is enough, but Too Much is just right thanks to the opposites-attract chemistry of its leads, Megan Stalter and Will Sharpe. And who cares if The Bear is a drama or a comedy? It still navigates heretofore unexplored territory on television and if it occasionally takes a bumpy detour, just sit back and enjoy the scenery with a terrific cast, now sadly minus one, working at the top of their game.
Amazon
Life After Life
The Narrow Road to the Deep North
Apple
Mr. Scorcese
HBO
PeeWee Herman As Himself
Looking
The Gilded Age
Marc Maron: Panicked
Industry
Girls
Hulu
The Bear
The Lowdown
Netflix
American Primeval
OJ Simpson: Made in America
Too Much
Exhibitions (28)
Partial knee-replacement surgery and recovery reduced my museum going by half in 2025. I'll let the varied art works speak for themselves except to say that my trip to Northern Italy increased my appreciation of Renaissance and religious art exponentially, and that I wish I had seen Vaginal Davis do her thing when she and the other Afro Girls opened for the Smiths way back in the 80s. Who knew that cranky old Morrissey once contractually insisted that only drag artists be given that showcase?