Top 10 Movies of 2025

Greetings, reader!

Well, it is Christmas Day - but more importantly (kidding), it's the final Thursday of the year. For the sixth year in a row, that means that it's time for me to share my favorite films of 2025. It wasn't the best cinematic year of the 2020's, but it probably wasn't the worst either, as there were plenty of brilliant offerings! These are the top 10 movies of 2025.

Here are my honorable mentions: Britain and the Blitz (Ella Wright, 2025), Enigma (Zackary Drucker, 2025), One Battle After Another (Paul Thomas Anderson, 2025), The Conjuring: Last Rites (Michael Chaves, 2025), Weapons (Zach Cregger, 2025).

10. O'Dessa (Geremy Jasper, 2025)

I know, I know - pretty hilarious of me to put a film with a whopping 5.0 on IMDB ahead of critical darlings like Weapons and One Battle After Another. The reasons for this are twofold; first, some of this year's most acclaimed movies were, despite doing many things right, more than a bit overrated and thus undeserving of a top 10 placement in my book. But more importantly - O'Dessa was fun as hell!

Sure, it's not the cohesive artistic masterwork that it strives to be, and I can see how the inherently messy tone would be a turn-off for many. But I enjoyed it - the film has heart, the tonal clash works when looking for a delightfully chaotic viewing experience, and the lead performane by Sadie Sink is everything. Mark my words - when the dust settles and all is said and done, Sink will be ahead of Chalamet and everyone when remembering this generation's finest actors.

9. Mountainhead (Jesse Armstrong, 2025)

Jesse Armstrong of Succession acclaim did a brilliant job writing and directing this eat-the-rich satire. The commentary may not be quite as deeply layered and nuanced as it is in his hit TV show, but that's okay - it doesn't have to be, as this project clearly meant to veer more into the 'entertaining dramedy' section with the real-world insight only being a secondary concern.

That being said, I felt that the film succeeded on both counts - it most definitely is entertaining and hilarious, and the satire, though heavy-handed, still makes for a thoroughly decent critique of the out-of-touch tech bro types who are currently running (and ruining) the world.

8. Mickey 17 (Bong Joon Ho, 2025)

I haven't read the book that this talked-about film from early in the year was based on, so I can't speak to its quality as an adaptation. What I can say is that the blockbuster visuals and overall grandiose production values alone make for an excellent viewing experience, while director Bong Joon Ho does a fantastic job balancing the humane elements of the storytelling with the room-to-breathe explorations of the vibrant milieu.

Robert Pattinson is a class act in the lead role, and the supporting roles by Steven Yeun, Mark Ruffalo and Toni Collette make sure that the entire main cast delivers some dynamite acting. It's the kind of film that feels like it should be even higher on this list, but I have my share of minor critiques - ones that don't come near to ruining the film, but do push it a bit lower on this list than it could've otherwise been. Namely, the tone is a bit messy at times and the pacing a tad uneven, making the message of the story feel a bit unclear. Still, it's an overwhelmingly positive viewing experience overall!

7. Bullet Train Explosion (Shinji Higuchi, 2025)

If you've ever watched Speed (1994) and thought "Hey, this is great, but I wish there was a way to make it even more nerve-wracking", then boy, do I have the movie for you. In this brilliant Japanese thriller, we follow the passengers of a bullet train as a bomb on board becomes an imminent threat.

I enjoyed the entire runtime, although I kept thinking that the Speed influence was a tad too obvious - only to learn later that the original "there's a bomb on this vehicle and it'll go off it the vehicle goes below a certain speed" movie was from Japan in the 70's, and that this was a remake of that first and foremost, so the Americans were the real copycats all along (shocker, I know)! Anyhow, Bullet Train Explosion is a true edge-of-your-seat experience, particularly in its final act, and a very recommended one for fans of suspenseful thrillers.

6. Pikku Siperia (Dome Karukoski, 2025)

My favorite Finnish filmmaker continues to have just the most "never let them know your next move" career of all time, with the latest addition to his beautifully bizarre (and bizarrely beautiful) filmography being Pikku Siperia. Among my many reasons for liking this film was one very subjective one: the movie was shot in Northern Karelia, the very area that my fiancée and her family originate from, and specifically many key parts were shot in their very dear city of Nurmes. Seeing those familiar milieus in a big-budget Dome Karukoski film was cool as hell.

But it's not just that. In all its artistic surrealism, Pikku Siperia is the kind of film that is definitely not for everyone - but I'm among the ones it is for. The imagery is wild, the narrative confusing and the themes very much up for interpretation, but I love me a film like that. It's a head-scratcher for sure, but the atmosphere remains cohesive in its own peculiar way throughout it all, making the end result feel like there was a point to all the strangeness, and you sort of get the point on an emotional level even if you can't quite put it to words.

5. Wake Up Dead Man: A Knives Out Mystery (Rian Johnson, 2025)

You know some film franchises have a clear shelf life, and you wish they'd stop making sequels after a certain point? Well, the Knives Out series is not one of those cases, and I wish they keep making more and more of these every few years as long as Daniel Craig is alive.

Seriously, the formula works so well - take a bunch of talented and well-known actors, put 'em into a whodunit with Benoit Blanc calling the shots, and shake the story around with multiple subversive plot twists. I loved the first Knives Out, I loved the second one, and this third one is no different in that regard.

There's a lot to praise here - the dynamic of the cast is entertaining, the mystery is highly intriguing and ultimately cleverly written, and the religious themes actually worked really well in my view. I like how the film shows a microcosmos of the whole truth: how corrupt and cultish organized religion can be at its worst, and what a beautiful thing faith can be at its best.

4. The Long Walk (Francis Lawrence, 2025)

This Stephen King adaptation doesn't just talk the talk, it...dammit, can't think of a good metaphor.

Anyhow, here's my two cents as a massive King fan: The Long Walk is a remarkable book-to-movie adaptation, and honestly one of the best of its kind. The plot follows that of the book in a loyal manner - except for the ending, but switching that up honestly works. But more importantly, it's the very specific atmosphere of the book that translates onto the big screen with even more care and detail than the plot. Watching the film feels just like reading the book did - the very same sort of grueling intensity, playing out almost like a physical experience as it progresses. If you loved the book, I guarantee you'll love the movie as well.

3. Superman (James Gunn, 2025)

HELL YES! It says something about Hollywood's direction that after a decade of comic book movie projects that try to reinvent the wheel by being subversive, artistic and morally grey in yet another combination of twists, the people were yearning for what comic book movies used to be all that time, and thus a Superman film with the old-school upbeat tone felt like just the biggest breath of fresh of air. More than that, however, it speaks to the times we are living when a film with a message that can be boiled down to "What if a guy was really nice and kind" feels equal parts empowering and groundbreaking. Like, in the perfect society, this would be just a movie among the rest of them, but in 2025, it felt like a warm hug and a reminder of humanity's core values. Thank you, Superman!

I could compliment pretty much any given aspect of this film at length, but I'll boil it down to a few essentials. Number one, the casting: David Corenswet was the exact right sweetheart with a heart-melting smile for the role of Superman, while Rachel Brosnahan kicks ass as Lois Lane and Nicholas Hoult made for the best Lex Luthor since Gene Hackman in the 70's. The score by David Fleming and John Murphy also deserves myriads of praise, as it takes nostalgic musical cues from the legendary John Williams soundtrack to the Christopher Reeve Superman films but arranges them into unforeseen levels of emotionally charged dramatics.

But, yeah, the film's biggest strength is the aspect that rightfully had people talking the most: the optimistic tone. It's a movie that'll make you feel better about the world and yourself, and not in a complacency-seeking "hang back, everything's gonna magically work out" way, but the more rare and important "we should all do our part and be kind to our fellow humans every day" way. The film had me laughing at times, smiling at others, pumping my fists whenever the Last Son theme played, and weeping at Superman's speech about humanity to Lex. Thank you, James Gunn, for this fun and much-needed film.

2. Sinners (Ryan Coogler, 2025)

In the 30's and 40's, the consensus for horror filmmakers in Hollywood was that the absolute scariest monster you can imagine is, well, a monster. You got your Frankensteins, your Wolf Men, your Draculas et cetera. Then, in the 50's and 60's, the trend changed to a different sort of plural monster - what could be scarier than zombies or mummies or The Birds? In the 70's and 80's, the consensus changed again - what's scarier than a *guy* with a *knife*, after all? After this craze of serial killers and slashers, the tide turned again - for the 90's and 00's, it was all about the dark-magic variety of the supernatural, with various curses and omens being the primary source of horror. Then, we were due for a new big horror trend for the next few decades - and we got one in 2017, with Jordan Peele making a statement with Get Out: maybe the scariest monster of them all is...white people.

In the wave of post-Get Out horror films that have continued its themes of social commentary and race relations in America, Ryan Coogler's Sinners has got to be my favorite. It's pretty amazing how a horror film about vampires became my 2nd-favorite movie of the year, even though I didn't find it particularly scary. The vampire stuff and more conventional horror elements are fine, but really, it's the beneath-the-surface material that makes Sinners as riveting and unforgettable as it is. The lines that are drawn between American history from the role of the church to the hard-hitting symbolism with the vampires, this film is as thought-provoking as the very best of them. Michael B. Jordan continues to prove that he's the Michael Jordan of actors, adding yet another sledgehammer lead performance to his filmography.

And finally, the role of music! I love it when civil rights movies aren't just about the suffering (not to belittle the importance of showing that side), but also feel like celebrations of the culture at hand. Trying to do both in the same film must be a tough line to walk, but Sinners manages to be a celebration of Black culture as much as it is a scorching indictment of white America's treatment of the Black community. The brilliant utilization of music really helps with that, and that one scene (if you've seen the film, you know which one I'm talking about) was just a tear-jerking, hauntingly beautiful testament to the rich tapestry of all-time great music traditions stemming from the Black community.

1. Wicked: For Good (Jon M. Chu, 2025)

How good of a musical is Wicked? Well, the second film is clearly not as good as the first, yet it's still my favorite movie of the year. That's a pretty amazing feat - I know For Good didn't please everyone, but I'm certainly among those for whom it got the job done.

Yes, I do see the point of those who were very critical of the film - I do agree that it's less eventful and less bombastic than Wicked: Part One. Where I differ from the negative reception is this: it doesn't matter. The first film was always going to be slightly better than the second for those who must make a comparison, because the films are based on a musical where the first act is more dramatic and eventful than the second, and this is always how it had to go down. They could've made this film more thrilling by going all Hollywood and adding a bunch of plot points that aren't in the source material - and thank God that they didn't.

Wicked: For Good is exactly the movie it's supposed to be, and not being 100% as good as literally the best film of the decade so far doesn't mean that you've failed. The film is bold enough to loyally adapt the story they're adapting, pleasing true fans at the risk of being a turn-off for TikTok brains everywhere who need a big new plot turn every fifteen seconds. The film revels in its slow pace, fleshing out the characters and giving room to breathe between the utterly amazing, emotionally charged musical numbers that come to life with mesmerizing arrangements. The two films complement each other well to make up a whole that will go down in cinema history as one of the greats.

Thank you for reading! Tune in next week for my list about 2025's greatest TV shows.

RIP Rob Reiner: Top 5 films directed by him (and top 5 of his acting performances)

Greetings, reader!

A giant of cinema was lost last Sunday. Rob Reiner found his way into the hearts of movie enthusiasts everywhere across his prolific career as both an actor and director, while using his platform to speak out for LGBTQ+ rights, education and the environment in a time and place where all three were being trampled on. To celebrate the career of this brilliant filmmaker, I have listed my top five favorite acting performances of his, as well as the top five films directed by him.

Here are my honorable mentions: Directing This Is Spinal Tap! (1984), Playing Dr. Morris Packard in The First Wives Club (1996), Playing Bill on Frasier (1993-2004), Playing Max Belfort in The Wolf of Wall Street, Playing the Helicopter Pilot in Misery (1990).

#5 in acting: Himself & Stanley the Dog in 30 Rock (2006-2013)

Reiner was able to do all sorts of serious stuff as a director, but his acting performances were almost always of the comedic variety. Mind you, he had range within that - all five of his acting performances on today's list are humorous ones, but they're all also wildly different from one another.

Kicking things off is this memorable one-episode guest performance from 30 Rock - in a storyline that really only 30 Rock could've come up with, Reiner plays himself but it's a version of himself that is also a congressman, and later in the episode he voices a cartoon dog. It's all pretty great.

#5 in directing: The American President (1995)

Reiner was a frequent collaborator of screenwriter Aaron Sorkin in the 1990's, and honestly, that's up there with Cobain&Grohl and Jordan&Pippen in terms of iconic 90's partnerships.

This Sorkin-written film got exactly the end result it deserved with Reiner's directing - it's a somewhat untypical work for both men in terms of how overflowingly cheesy it is, but a viewer like me will eat that right up. When not taken too seriously, The American President is a fantastic feel-good rom-com, with Reiner really showing how fuzzy his directing can get when the script calls for it.

#4 in acting: Martin DiBergi in This Is Spinal Tap! (1984)

Much like the 30 Rock one, Reiner's acting performance in the immortal mockumentary he directed is one where he's sort of playing himself, but also isn't. Reiner tackles the role of Martin DiBergi, the aspiring documentarian who wants to capture the story of the fictional heavy metal band, and he does so with credibility, sharp comedic timing, and a subtle humor that gives plenty of room for the big personalities that the story centers on.

#4 in directing: The Bucket List (2007)

The only film on the directing portion of today's list that isn't either a Sorkin collaboration or a Stephen King adaptation (both were massive strong suits for Mr. Reiner), this film isn't quite as cheesy as The American President, but a true feel-good viewing experience nonetheless. Reiner balances grittiness and heart with brilliance, in this story of two terminally ill men who escape their cancer ward in order to complete their, well, bucket list. It's a deeply moving film, because if there's one thing Rob Reiner could do like the best of them, it's invoking powerful emotions via film.

#3 in acting: Ace Amberg in Hollywood (2020-2020)

Reiner's acting performances often gave the vibe that even for the old dude that he was, he was a distinctively old soul. Therefore, it makes sense that he fit like a glove into this entertaining miniseries taking place in post-WWII Hollywood, playing the role of a charismatic big-shot film executive by the name of Ace Amberg. His performance oozes its own kind of class and old-timey charm, while also portraying the slimy nature of what a white male film exec in that era (not that this era is much different) would've realistically been.

#3 in directing: Misery (1990)

Oh, hell yeah. Along with Frank Darabont, Reiner was one of the very few filmmakers who truly understood the works of Stephen King in a manner that would always make for a rock-solid adaptation. This is evident in Misery, which was ranked well in my post about the best book-to-film adaptations of all time a few weeks back.

Reiner was a delightfully project-first kind of director, which is ideal when adapting an already-perfect book: many filmmakers make the mistake of making it all about themselves and disregarding the source material to make room for their own extravagant vision, but not this guy - Misery is nothing less or nothing more than what it needed to be (that is, a loyal adaptation of King's iconic thriller). The atmosphere is spot-on, the plot plays out just right, and it's a riveting experience.

#2 in acting: Bob Day in New Girl (2012-2018)

Reiner's recurring role as protagonist Jess Day's father in the sitcom New Girl is a thoroughly memorable one! His chemistry with his on-screen ex-wife (Jamie Lee Curtis) as well as his daughter (Zooey Deschanel) is believable, and his comedic timing always makes for a delightful addition to the show's antics whenever he appears.

#2 in directing: A Few Good Men (1992)

Now this is the stuff. Aaron Sorkin's debut screenplay made for what is arguably the greatest courtroom drama in cinematic history - and that wouldn't have been possible without just the director at the helm. Reiner's style of directing is the perfect vessel for Sorkin's script to reach its full potential, and the atmosphere is dramatic and engaging throughout the entire runtime.

We have Rob Reiner to thank for immortal lines like "You can't handle the truth!" - sure, it's Sorkin who penned it and Nicholson with the delivery, but the director is largely responsible for how the scene plays out and becomes the best version of itself - which this iconic moment certainly was.

#1 in acting: Albert Schnurr in The Bear (2022-)

The most recent acting role I saw from Mr. Reiner is also his very best one, if you ask me. Appearing in just four episodes of The Bear's newest season, Reiner plays business consultant Albert Schnurr, who is just such a fun addition into the dynamics of the show's cast. His scenes with Ebraheim (Edwin Lee Gibson) are a treat, with the comedic chops of the two actors bouncing beautifully off each other. The scene where Albert and Uncle Computer meet each other and hit it off is especially amusing - good stuff, man.

#1 in directing: Stand By Me (1986)

I mean this with no disrespect to the acting skills of the departed - but directing was definitely an even stronger suit for him. As seen on this list, his acting roles were often of the "good enough for this supporting role" variety, whereas his films - different gravy. And standing tall as the epitome of his golden touch for filmmaking is the timeless coming-of-age film Stand By Me.

Adapted from Stephen King's short story The Body, this absolute classic ranked at #71 when I ranked all 1000 movies I've seen earlier this year - that's higher than Schindler's List and Casablanca, to name a few. The specific vibe of the book translates beautifully onto the big screen, with Reiner's elegant directing making sure that every theme of the story can be felt to the maximum by every viewer. The film is funny at times, gripping at others, and just the ultimate bittersweet loss-of-innocence story. Cinema doesn't really get better than this.

Thank you for reading! Tune in on Christmas Day - it's the last Thursday of the year, and as is tradition, that means that I'll be ranking my top 10 favorite movies of the past year.

Top 10 versions of the Wizard of Oz story

Greetings, reader!

I got this idea while back, and had to wait for Wicked: For Good to come out in order to complete the list. L. Frank Baum's novel The Wonderful Wizard of Oz has been adapted time and time again over the last 125 years, so much so that it spawned a movie that inspired a book that was adapted into a musical that was made into the movie that just got a sequel! With so many versions of the same story out there, I decided to rank my top 10 favorites.

10. Nirvana - Heart-Shaped Box (1993 music video)

Okay, to call this a version of the Wizard of Oz story is a stretch, but hey - a top 10 list is more satisfying than a top 9. The music video to Nirvana's eighth-best song invokes imagery from the 1939 movie, from the wacky color scheme to the poppy fields and crows. Of course, there's also the whole thing with Santa being crucified, so it's not just a Wizard of Oz reference. Still, the aesthetic of Victor Fleming's film is prominent enough to put this music video onto this list, but not enough to rank it any higher.

9. The Emerald City storyline from The Dark Tower IV: Wizard and Glass (1997 novel)

Another far-fetched but interesting one, this is one of those times when a book's influence on another book is the very opposite of subtle. Stephen King could've conveyed his love from L. Frank Baum's novel and its film adaptation in any number of ways, but having his fictional multiverse include a world where the Emerald City is real is definitely the coolest possible option.

I don't know what sort of copyright hurdles King had to jump through in order to make this happen, but the end result is most definitely worth it - having the actual locations and motifs from The Wizard of Oz suddenly show up in a different fantasy epic is a mind-blowing reading experience.

8. The Gang Turns Black (It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, Season 12 Episode 1)

Speaking of far-fetched - here we have a TV episode that is strongly inspired by the movie The Wiz, which is a reimagining of the movie The Wizard of Oz, which in turn is an adaptation of L. Frank Baum's book. Still, it counts.

The title of this IASIP episode had me a bit nervous beforehand - the show's trademark dark and inappropriate humor is on the acceptable, punching-up side of things for the vast majority of the time, but there are some cases where they've gone too far, and The Gang Turns Black sounded like it might be one of them. Thankfully, that wasn't the case - there is no blackface et cetera, and mostly the episode is just playing around with the concept of The Wiz and kick-ass original songs composed by Charlie Day.

Overall, the existence of this episode does definitely enrich the tapestry of stuff inspired by The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, and the amount of stories hailing from the same premise.

7. The Wonderful Wizard of Oz (1900 novel)

Here, on the other hand, we have the very opposite of far-fetched - the original work itself. It does feel a bit sacrilegeous to rank L. Frank Baum's book this low, as it does deserve tons of respect just for being the original work, and coming up with the imaginative stuff that would directly or indirectly inspire the rest of the items on today's list. But still, I can't rank it higher than it is - the trajectory of the Wizard of Oz stories is the very definition of "X walked so that Y could run".

Mind you, it's a really good children's fantasy book, with memorable worldbuilding and exciting characters - but the ideas that L. Frank Baum came up with have been outdone again and again, with nearly every character and location and theme reaching their full potential only in a later instalment. A lot of this has to do with the 1939 film working as a catalyst for further iconic status - as good as the book is, that alone wouldn't have been enough to inspire The Wiz and Wicked and all these cool adaptations and re-imaginings. The movie became much more legendary than the book ever was, and many of the items on today's list seem to have taken more inspiration from that direction.

Still, this is a fun and creative book, the OG work, and in many ways, the blueprint for all that followed.

6. Ted Lasso (2020-2023 TV series)

Before anyone calls this far-fetched, I'll have you know that the showrunners have confirmed the "fan theory" that this entire TV series is a spin on The Wizard of Oz. Yes, elements like genre and setting and character names are completely different, but on a metaphorical level, there's too many similarities for it to be a coincidence.

Think about it - a good-hearted person from Kansas (Dorothy / Ted Lasso) and their furry friend (Toto / Coach Beard) are swept away into a strange foreign land (Oz / England). In there, they end up encountering people who they help on their way - one who needs to find his heart (the Tin Man / Roy Kent), one who needs to find his brain (the Scarecrow / Jamie Tartt), and one who needs to find his courage (the Lion / Sam Obisanya). The parallels are pretty amazing, and they start hitting especially hard towards the tail end of season 3. It's a fantastic series even without this level, but it's also a weirdly powerful Wizard of Oz adaptation albeit an unconventional one.

5. Wicked: For Good (2025 film)

The new Wicked film has been subject to a lot of debate - and not to be a centrist, but on this particular issue I do land right in between the extremes heard on the internet. Yes, I do agree with the masses that the film isn't as good as last year's Wicked: Part I, but no, I do not agree with those saying that For Good was a let-down, let alone a bad movie - far from it.

First of all, one cannot understate how high a bar was set by Wicked: Part I. Not only was it the best film of the decade so far - it currently sits at the #12 spot on my list of my favorite films of all time. Not being as good as that does not necessarily mean that you've failed - that's like saying that the Hobbit movies are terrible just because they aren't as good as the LOTR trilogy (oh wait, people do that too - God, I hate the internet).

After a lot of analysis, I've come to the conclusion that the second film isn't quite as good as the first simply because it couldn't & shouldn't have been. Dividing the film adaptation of the Broadway musical into two films based on the musical's two halves was undoubtedly the right call, and they couldn't have done it any better. The first half of the musical is slightly better than the second, and more importantly, it is more blockbuster film material. It's more eventful, dramatic and entertaining.

Don't get me wrong, I love the second half as well, and that's where we come to the nuance of "Wicked: For Good isn't as good as Part I but it's still amazing and the best possible version of itself". It was never going to be as bombastic, but that doesn't matter. The two films make up a whole, and no matter how much the first one hits even slightly harder, For Good is still a deeply emotional diamond-quality film, and the right conclusion for the saga.

4. The Wiz (1978 film)

Not only is The Wiz one of the most pure-fun movies ever made - it's also a spectacular spin on The Wizard of Oz. I don't know how some came up with the idea of making a whole new musical with basically the same story and themes, but with an all-Black cast, a zany R&B score and just the most extra set design you'll ever see. I'm just glad someone did, because this cult-classic gem is just so good.

The unique and unforgettable color palette, the groovy songs and charismatic vocal performances, Diana Ross as Dorothy...it's just all fantastic. We're really starting to get to the big leagues here.

3. Wicked (2003 Broadway musical)

This one is hard to rank, because I've never seen Wicked live on stage. I ranked the films separately, so one could argue that I should've left this one out as I'm not an expert by experience. But then again - I know the story, I've listened to the soundtrack, and these are things that the original musical deserves credit for, more than the films.

Obviously, the films deserve praise to how the songs were arranged and specifics in how the story is told, but the whole concept of Wicked is something so amazing that it makes it all the way to third place even though I haven't seen the theater production. That's how f**king great songs like Defying Gravity and For Good are.

Not to mention the absolutely genius inversion of the Wizard of Oz story! Wicked makes powerful points about propaganda and history written by the victors, by casting Elphaba as the misunderstood and vilified revolutionary, the Wizard as the populist leader throwing minorities under the bus, and Glinda the Good Witch as the well-intentioned but weak-willed celebrity torn between knowing what's right and her own comfort. Profound stuff.

2. The Wizard of Oz (1939 film)

Can't get much better than this. Not only is this 1930's masterpiece the culturally definitive version of the story and one of the great book-to-movie adaptations in Hollywood - it's also one of the greatest and most influential movies of all time. Not to belittle L. Frank Baum's book, which obviously deserves a lot of credit as well, but it is pretty amazing how so much of what people generally picture when thinking about The Wizard of Oz comes from this film, and not from the book or any of the subsequent adaptations.

Even though the film barely missed out on first place on my list, it is still very much the gold standard in many ways. Elements like Judy Garland's performance as Dorothy, songs like Over the Rainbow, immortal lines like "There's no place like home" and the whole unforgettable aesthetic are forever etched into cinematic history.

1. Wicked: Part I (2024 film)

Yeah, I had to put this at #1 and there's just no way around it. I obviously get that this movie owes a lot of its greatness to the original book, as well as the Broadway musical. But I'd also argue that there's a lot to be said for an adaptation that utterly perfects a story, with all its themes and ideas and characters, that was already pretty damn amazing to begin with. I have never cried for as big a part of a film's duration as I did when watching Wicked in the movie theater, and it immediately became one of my all-time favorite films.

With its grandiose production values, epic pacing, deliciously dramatic arrangements of the beloved songs and exquisite casting, it just quite simply couldn't have been any better. 2024 was also the exact right time for this to be made, with the heavy themes hitting extra hard in contrast to what was going on in the U.S. with the Trump regime. Wicked: Part I is an untouchable masterpiece, and for me personally, the very best version of the many, many Wizard of Oz adaptations and re-imaginings that have been made over the years.

Thank you for reading! Tune in next week for something - I haven't decided a good post for that slot after my original idea required a little extra work, but I'll come up with something for sure. Open to suggestions!

A definitive ranking of the chess pieces

Greetings, reader!

Yeah, I know, "supposed to be a movie/TV" blog. But, y'know, I got this idea and wanted to post it, so really, who gives a shit? Anyways, for all you fellow chess fans out there, I wanna make it clear that this isn't an objective power ranking, as that one is quite agreed-upon and would therefore make for a boring post. No, this is all about subjective preference - factors like how much I like playing with each piece, how good I am with each piece, the concept of the piece and what the it brings to the game in terms of tactical intrigue, et cetera. This is my definitive ranking of all six chess pieces!

6. The bishop

I don't have anything personal against the bishop - more than anything else, it's a skill issue. As a player, I'm not as good with the bishop as I am with many of the other pieces. I have a handle on the basics, but especially the kind of thinking-many-steps-ahead that a great chess player should have - for whatever reason, I have more of that when it comes to other pieces than these diagonal motherf**kers. That goes for utilizing my own bishops, as well as anticipating the opponent's - quite often when I end up losing, it's because I failed to fully prepare for a particularly clever ruse involving bishops.

5. The king

This would be a clear choice for last place, but when you're an overthinking list-nerd like myself, opinions have a tendency to evolve - and so I've gone from the traditional starting point of the king being inherently overrated, all the way to claiming that the king is actually underrated.

Now, don't get me wrong - the king is a lazy, useless piece of shit. But that's what makes it into a weirdly awesome piece in the grand scheme of the game! It makes the tactical side so much more interesting than it would be if the most powerful piece would be the one everything revolves around. I also love the anti-monarchy sentiment that allegedly got the original developer of the modern rules executed once the king realized the statement: the king is nothing without the people working for him, and it seems inherently unfair and bogus that it all revolves around that weak-ass bastard. Pretty awesome social commentary for medieval times right there.

I also like how you rarely get to play very creatively with the king - but when you do, it's utterly fascinating. Especially in endgame situations where one or both players have very few pieces left, the addition of the king into an attack has some intriguing implications because there's so much you can't do that it's completely different from attacking with any other piece. All of this being said, the king is only fifth despite being underrated, because once again, it is a very weak and mostly useless piece.

4. The knight

On one hand, I feel like the knight could be even higher, depending on which part of the criteria I'm emphasizing - it is in many ways the most unique piece, with its movement pattern being a fantastic curveball into the gameplay. With every other piece's movement pattern being more rigidly structured, you have to appreciate that chess would be an inescapably more boring game if it wasn't for the delightful bit of chaos brought on by the knights.

However, I had to deduce points for the same reason I had with the bishop being last - I'm not that great with knights. I'm not bad with 'em either, but it's definitely not one of my big strengths, and long-term strategizing involving knights just isn't in my DNA in the way some pieces are. I'm okay with using knights in my attacks and anticipating my opponent's use of theirs, but a bit clumsy on both counts.

3. The pawn

Yeah, I know, the pawn could easily be argued for last place for any number of reasons - it's the smallest, weakest, most boring piece. But the thing is - I love the role of the pawn. And it's largely because of that easy complaint - take a piece that is just lesser to the other pieces, but give the player a lot of them - and the tactical implications are fascinating.

The ways in which one uses their pawns in any given chess game is just so intriguing - when are they sacrificed, when are they used to balance the scales of an upcoming conflict, when are they diversions and parts of a trap and when are they used to actually do their own thing. Using these little guys as gradual building blocks for a larger tactic is cool as shit - and, when compared to the bishop or even knight, my evaluation is that I'm actually pretty good with my pawns. As good as a wannabe chess player like myself can be, anyhow.

2. The queen

This absolute icon would definitely top most people's rankings, and I can see why. It can very well be that my ranking of the queen at #2 instead of #1 is just due to the same over-thinking that put the king at #5 instead of #6, but that being said - I am not saying for a second that the queen would be overrated. She's the best, most powerful piece in the game, and completely deserving of her iconic status. Playing with the queen is fun as hell, and the tactical intrigue of this mega-powerful piece that can do whatever the f**k she wants is pretty cool.

I also love the feminist lore behind the piece - allegedly it was Queen Isabella of Portugal who confronted the game developer who had brought chess to their court, and spoke her mind about the queen piece (who had been initially conceived as a much weaker piece). She got her way, and the queen evolved into a much more accurate representation of women - a kick-ass icon who effortlessly overshadows the incompetent men around her.

I'm also quite good with the piece when playing chess, although not top-tier good like some - namely my Finnish grandfather Heikki, the man who taught me the game of chess and remains one of the toughest opponents I've ever faced. His use of the queen in his tactics is a thing to behold, as he truly utilizes the piece to full potential in a genius manner.

1. The rook

Obviously, I'm not saying that the rook is objectively better or more powerful as a piece than the queen. Remember, this list is of my subjective favorites - and I can't help but put the rook at #1. This is due to many factors, but especially this one: if the pieces were ranked solely based on how good I am with each piece, the rook would not only be at #1 but it would be absolutely clear ahead of the rest. For whatever reason, I loved the movement patterns and tactical implications of the rook already as a kid, so I've always done a lot with them and utilized them in my defense and offense patterns throughout my life, which has only enforced the rook's role as the piece that I work with the best.

It's not only that I love to utilize my own rooks in whatever I'm up to, but also that my own tactics largely rely on the elimination of the opponent's. I've found this to be a cornerstone of my tactics a long time ago: going for the opponent's well-protected queen from the beginning might end up being a costly suicide mission, whereas pieces like the bishop or knight are too 'small fish' for a particularly elaborate trap. But the rook, a piece that is clearly more valuable than the others but clearly less valuable than the queen, has the perfect balance: compared to the queen, a rook might be just unguarded enough that elaborately trapping and eliminating it might work, and compared to a bishop/knight, the piece is just consequential enough that eliminating one or both might be the turning point that leads to an eventual victory. Nearly every time that I win at chess, there's at least one successful rook elimination behind the end result (and most of the time, one or both of my own rooks are heavily involved in the checkmate).

I also love the visual character design - from chess set to chess set, the rooks always look very cool. And finally, one very underrated aspect about why I love the piece so much is the intrigue of its starting position. It's a fascinating and well-built part of the game design: you can't simply start getting up to any shit with the rook, as there's so much in the way. You need to get your pawns out of the way in a well-planned manner, and build up to the entrance of your rook into the gameplay. And once the pawns start to be off the way, there's often the danger of your rook facing the opponent's, which always brings some neat implications with the balance of terror in how the movement patterns cancel each other out so one rook can't directly threaten the other. The mind games involving this piece are awesome.

Thank you for reading! Tune in next week for my ranking of the top 10 versions of the Wizard of Oz story, in honor of Wicked: For Good (2025).

Top 15 best book-to-movie adaptations

Greetings, reader!

My friend Inari recently suggested this: a list of the worst book-to-film adaptations (which I did last week), and a list of the best ones. Here are some of the groundrules for how this double list works:

1. These are ranked based on how good they are as adaptations, and not as overall movies. Of course, this is often a gray area - being a good adaptation is about more than 100-percent plot loyalty, so this week's list does feature some films where quite a lot has been changed - as long as the changes are well-reasoned and in the spirit of the book. Similarly, last week's list had some instances where the film is actually very good overall, but still a poor adaptation.

2. It should go without saying, but I'll say it anyway: I've had to have read the book in order for the movie to qualify. There are many great films that I've seen that I know to be based on a book, and with many of them I've heard that they're loyal to the source material - but I can't be the judge of that unless the book is familiar to me.

3. Movies based on plays do generally qualify, especially if it's an older play so that they're clearly adapting the text, much like you'd do with a book adaptation, and not a whole live stage production. Musicals are a gray area, but I ended up excluding them, because movies based on Broadway musicals are never just adaptations of the text but also of the visual side of the stage production. Movies like 2012's Les Miserables, that are based on stage musicals that are based on books, were a grey area, but I ended up excluding them as well.

4. There are plenty of great TV shows based on books, but I decided to limit these lists to movies. Maybe I'll make a separate list of the worst and best book-to-television adaptations some day!

5. When a whole movie series is based on a book or a series of books, it can qualify as the whole series or as individual part depending on how my opinion of the adaptations fits these lists. Essentially, if the movie series is consistently good or bad as an adaptation, it will be counted as a whole for one of the lists, but if the series contains a film that is particularly well-adapted and one that is particularly ill-adapted, both individuals can qualify for their respective lists.

6. As is tradition with my lists, I attempted to look at these adaptations from every possible viewpoint, with each adaptation's specific ranking containing a sum of the good and bad parts. For example, the Hobbit trilogy won't be on either list, because there are elements that are so well-adapted that it didn't quite warrant a placement on last week's list, but there are also elements so overkill that it didn't make it to today's one either.

7. And finally, I limited these lists to adaptations that are at least somewhat conventional: for example, 10 Things I Hate About You is in many ways one of the coolest and most genius book adaptations out there, but it's so unconventional (because that's the point) that it's pretty impossible to compare to other, more conventional adaptations for the purposes of this list.

Without further ado, these are my favorite book-to-movie adaptations of all time!

Here are my honorable mentions: Pet Sematary (1989), The Green Mile (1999), Memento (2000), The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (2005), The Tragedy of Macbeth (2021).

15. Misery (1990)

Okay, I'll adress it right out the gate - there's going to be a lot of Stephen King on today's list. Not only is he one of my all-time favorite writers, but a whole bunch of his books have been made into exceptionally awesome movies. The first of many such cases on today's list is Misery, which is one of the more no-nonsense book-to-film adaptations I've seen.

The claustrophobic and thrilling atmosphere of the book translates well onto the screen, and Kathy Bates was just an unreal casting choice in terms of bringing the complex and iconic villain Annie Wilkes to life. I still prefer the book, as is almost always the case, but I can't imagine the film version of that particular novel being much better than this.

14. A Clockwork Orange (1971)

Hiring a notoriously weird filmmaker to adapt a book is always a bit of a risky choice (just look at what David Lynch did with Dune, or Kubrick himself with The Shining as I discussed in last week's post). However, in certain cases where the source material itself is weird in a way that matches the adapting filmmaker's freak, it can occasionally make for a match made in heaven.

Such was the case with Anthony Burgess' strange-ass novel A Clockwork Orange, and the wonders that Kubrick did with it. The atmosphere of the film is pretty unforgettable with its zany aesthetic and soundtrack, but when you read the book, you can just hear the music from the film and Malcolm McDowell's snarly voice in your head, because they fit the atmosphere of the original work so well. Some changes are made, but they are justified ones in my opinion.

13. Othello (1995)

I regret to say that I haven't gotten to see Shakespeare performed on the theater stage (at least yet - it is one of my great wishes in life to do that some day). I can only imagine how much even the best big-screen adaptations of the Bard's works are beaten by the real thing - but, as long as I keep not having the chance to see the real thing, the movie adaptations have been a big comfort. There are many brilliant ones out there, but the one I'd single out above all others is Oliver Parker's Othello.

Out of all the Shakespeare plays I've read, Othello is probably the best-suited one for a movie adaptation, with its thrilling plot and vibrant milieu. The movie gets many things right, with the biggest praise going to casting - Laurence Fishburne nails the title role, and lifelong Shakespeare enthusiast Kenneth Branagh knocks it out of the park as Iago, one of the most interesting (and hard-to-play) characters from the Bard's works. Branagh's delivery of Iago's soliloquies alone makes this film worthy of today's list.

12. Carrie (1976)

This King adaptation is even more by-the-book (haha, literally) than Misery. If these were ranked purely based on plot loyalty, Carrie would be even higher - but making a truly great adaptation is about more than that. You know how some adaptations use remarkably appropriate music, casting and style choices to make it feel like the pages of the book are coming to life before your very eyes, with everything looking and feeling just like you imagined?

For whatever reason, Carrie doesn't quite reach that height, even though it does everything right on paper. It does everything a good adaptation should do, not taking any major liberties and just telling the book's story in cinematic form - yet it's still not among the highest tier of greats. The best adaptations feel almost as good as the book (or, in some extremely rare cases, even better) - and no matter how much one has to appreciate the loyalty of the Carrie movie, it's inevitably much lesser to the source material.

11. Tuntematon Sotilas (1955)

A true classic of Finnish literature, turned into a true classic of Finnish cinema. While there's no beating Väinö Linna's original novel, Edvin Laine's film is an exceptionally well-made adaptation, and truly the next-best-thing for this particular story. The casting is impeccable, as the beloved characters from the book come to life just like the reader imagines them, and the ratio between grim realities of war and moments of humor and levity amidst the horrors is nearly the exact same as in the book.

10. The Long Walk (2025)

Yet another King adaptation, and a very recent one this time! One could accuse me of recency bias in ranking The Long Walk this high, but I think I've thought it through - in addition to being one of this year's best overall movies, it's the kind of next-level book adaptation that only comes along every once in a while. The book is colored by a very specific atmosphere of grueling anxiety, and that translates impressively onto the big screen in the film. Watching the film feels exactly like reading the book, with both versions of the story being the same sort of almost-physical experience as you get invested in the premise and locked in to the intense plot.

The story progresses in a very loyal fashion - up until the ending, which was totally changed to my surprise. But I'm not giving minus points for that, because I see it as the kind of change that can be rationalized in any number of ways. King himself was involved with the film, so you know he was okay with it (hell, I'm half-guessing it was his idea, as he wrote the book at such a young age and is notoriously critical of his own endings so it would make sense that he'd see this film as a 'second chance'). Additionally, the film's ending is very much in the spirit of the book, as I could imagine the source material having taken the same route just as easily.

9. The Martian (2015)

Usually, even the better book-to-movie adaptations are either ones where the plot takes liberties but the atmosphere makes up for it, or ones where the atmosphere isn't exactly nailed but the narrative loyalty makes up for it. It's rare for a film based on a book to score high marks in both factors, but such was the case with Ridley Scott's adaptation of Andy Weir's The Martian. The vibe of the book, built on a delicate balance of gallows humor, clever science antics and intense moments of survival, translates remarkably well onto the big screen, and the plot progresses in a delightfully similar way, with only some small changes on that front. So, yeah, we're really starting to get to the good ones here.

8. Stand By Me (1986)

Aaaaaaaand it's more King. I swear, I read other books too, but his bibliography has just made for a weirdly big chunk of my favorite book-to-film adaptations!

Based on King's short story The Body, this timeless coming-of-age film expands its story in a way that feels very much in the spirit of the original work. Between the more original material, every great part from The Body can be found, and the brilliant casting of just the right child actors makes sure that the characters look, sound and feel exactly like their literary counterparts. The most important part of why Stand By Me works so well as an adaptation is, however, the adapting of the book's themes: the film makes the viewer feel the exact same emotions as when reading the original, and they both provoke similar trains of thought.

7. The Wizard of Oz (1939)

One can easily forget that this giant of cinema even was based on a book, as the film has surpassed the original work bright and clear in terms of iconic status and cultural value. But, in addition to changing movie history forever, The Wizard of Oz is a spectacular adaptation of L. Frank Baum's The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. Some changes are made, but they're all justified, in the spirit of the book, and ones that make the end product so much better than a 100% loyal adaptation could've ever been. For the most part, the film follows the book's plot quite carefully, with the magical locations and zany characters looking just like you'd imagine when reading the pages of the source material.

6. The Harry Potter franchise (2001-2011)

Let me begin by stating the obvious - fuck J.K. Rowling.

Like many in my generation, I grew up reading the Harry Potter books and loving them almost as much as she-who-must-not-be-named loves punching down and bullying people into suicide. I then watched the movies, over and over again, falling in love with the style of adaptation and the magical locations. There are unforgettable moments to be found - heartbreaking storylines like the innocent Buckbeak getting killed because Draco Malfoy spewed inflammatory lies about him 'being a threat' for no other reason than spite. For those who still support the author of the books, I want to make it clear that as hard as it is to understand, Malfoy is supposed to be the bad guy in that situation. Similarly, in The Deathly Hallows, when Voldemort is waging a war on innocent witches and wizards who are just trying to live their lives simply because he deems them to be un-pure - believe it or not, Voldemort is the villain and not the hero in that story.

Yeah, the Potter movies are very well-made, and more easily enjoyed than the books these days as all three main actors are thankfully good-hearted people who have made clear their support for the trans community. But separating the art from the artist is particularly hard with this franchise, so I can't really discuss it without some heavy disclaimers about real-life issues that are bigger than any fantasy series. One needs to, as Ron would say, sort out their priorities.

While I'm complimenting these films on my blog, I'm not endorsing watching them unless it's pirated, from an old and already-bought DVD, or any other manner that doesn't put a single penny into Rowling's pockets. She has repeatedly vowed to use the money she continues to make off the franchise to wage her war against gender minorities. It's important to remember that this isn't just about a 'difference of opinion', as Rowling is actively funding anti-LGBTQ+ legislation in the U.K. and her well-platformed hate speech has a clear correlation with the rise in violence and hate crimes against trans people. If you've spent money on the franchise and want to counteract the funding of such a monster, I can recommend donating to causes like the Trevor project, who work hard on preventing the bullying and suicides that the Rowlings of the world insist on causing.

5. The Shawshank Redemption (1994)

Ah, about time for more King, wouldn't you say?

This one is hard to rank, as it could easily be argued for the #1 spot - it's one of the greatest movies of all time, and inescapably one of those rare cases where the movie is even better than the book. That just goes to show how much nuance went into today's list - there are adaptations ahead of this one where the movie isn't as good as the book, and where the movie isn't as good as this movie, yet they still are somehow better as adaptations in my book (pun not intended).

Mind you, The Shawshank Redemption is fantastic as an adaptation - but that's far from its biggest strength. Remember how last week's post discussed Kubrick's The Shining, and how it is a masterpiece for reasons very unrelated to the source material? The same is technically true with Shawshank, but with the key difference that Shawshank is ALSO a good adaptation in addition to being a cinematic masterpiece. The film's biggest strengths come from elements like Thomas Newman's score, which isn't as "wow, this feels just like the atmosphere in the book!" as some, but doesn't feel particularly different from the book either, and is a masterpiece in any case.

The same goes for the acting performances, the dialogue and the directing style - it's similar enough to the book to work as an adaptation, but it's also masterful in a way that doesn't exactly come from the book but from Frank Darabont's own vision. That explains how the arguably greatest film of all time could have been made from a book that isn't even a top 10 Stephen King book for me - the source material isn't an all-timer, but it's still really good. More specifically, it's good enough that the highest-rated film on IMDB could have been made from it, but only if the film expands on its greatness like this one did.

4. The Perks of Being a Wallflower (2012)

Like quite a few on today's list, this one is difficult to judge because I saw the film first (several times, no less) before I read the book. It's a similar situation as The Shawshank Redemption - the movie is arguably even better, not because it changes things, but because it expands on certain concepts to make the story even more powerful. That being said, I consider this one to be even better as an adaptation.

One possible reason for this is that Stephen Chbosky, who wrote the book, also wrote and directed the movie. That is very rare - it's quite typical for the original author to work as a script consultant, producer or even screenwriter, but you rarely see them directing the films based on the books they wrote. However, based on this experiment, I'd like to see more of that phenomenon - Chbosky obviously understands the source material better than anyone, and that translates beautifully into the adaptation. Every change is a well-justified one, and there are delightfully few of them. It's the same story, with the same atmosphere and same themes, with the only changes being ones where something that worked better in literary format is switched up to whatever works even better on the big screen to drive home the same point.

3. It (2017)

I swear, this is the last King one! The exact quality of It as an adaptation has been subject to debate since its release, and rightfully so. Believe it or not, I see both sides, even though today's ranking reveals which one I personally landed on. I get why many fans of the book were let down by the movie: if you're going by plot accuracy, there are many adaptations that would kick this one's ass. The story takes a bunch of liberties - yet I'm still ranking it as the third-greatest book-to-movie adaptation of all time. And that is because the atmosphere is so spectacularly well-done.

I would dare say that no book-to-movie adaptation has utterly perfected the atmosphere of the source material as completely as this one. I'd rank it deadass first if the vibes were the only factor, but obviously I have to give some minus points for the plot threads. But when all is said and done, I can't help but see It as a fantastic adaptation: watching the film just feels like reading the book, to a staggering degree. The score, the lighting and cinematography, the sets, the excellent casting...it all comes together in a remarkable manner.

2. The Lord of the Rings trilogy (2001-2003)

Yeah, this is a no-brainer right here. The greatest trilogy in literature was turned into the greatest trilogy in cinema by the visionary Peter Jackson and his diamond-quality team. There are some changes to the plot, more than in the most plot-loyal adaptations but not nearly as much in others, and all the changes are quite well-reasoned. In terms of atmosphere, it's right up there with It, which is extra impressive as Tolkien's books have such an specific, magical and epic vibe to them.

The visual of beloved locations like Rivendell and the Shire is just unreal, while Howard Shore's score sounds exactly like the feel of the books if it was translated into the language of music - and don't get me started on the casting. Viggo Mortensen as Aragorn, Sean Astin as Sam, Sir Ian McKellen as Gandalf, et cetera...they really struck gold with this one. The movies are on par with the books - I've been asked multiple times which version I prefer, and to that, I will quote Rio Ferdinand when he was asked to weigh in on the Messi vs. Ronaldo debate: "People try and make comparisons...just enjoy them both, man".

1. Dune (2021) and Dune: Part Two (2024)

As overall movies, the two Dune adaptations Denis Villeneuve has graced us with so far don't quite hold a candle to the LOTR trilogy - although they come impressively close. Purely as adaptations, I'm holding on to my hot take that they're even a tad better.

I mean, where to start? Maybe with the whole production team - I've seen interviews of low-ranking set design assistants and costume department hands, all of whom are diehard Dune fans since childhood. That is probably the #1 lesson in making a good adaptation, and one that Hollywood fails at more often than not - it's not enough to have skillful people. You need to have people who are legitimately passionate about the subject matter. That's how you get a team who are hellbent in making the cinematic Arrakis look exactly like the one we know and love from the books - because they know and love it too, and understand what a special and magical thing they're a part of.

That goes for the cast as well - just listen to Javier Barden describing how it felt crazy to receive a paycheck for this role, because he's such a huge Dune geek that he would've paid money to get to play a character as fascinating as Stilgar. This cast-and-crew-spanning passion is obviously personified in the big man himself - in the decades where sci-fi fans were adamant that there will never be a good Dune adaptation because the book is so intricately complex and with such a large scope that the task is impossible, Denis Villeneuve grew up doing two things: 1) learning the art of filmmaking, and 2) reading his favorite book again and again. Villeneuve directed some of the best sci-fi films of the 2010's, like Arrival and Blade Runner 2049, and has casually stated that he viewed them as his 'audition tapes' to prove himself worthy of the Dune job - the project he was destined to make (I know, I sound like a fanatic Fremen).

Not only do both films look like Frank Herbert's Dune - they sound like it, they feel like it, to an almost transcendental degree. Also, the plot (especially in the first one) is remarkably accurate for a Hollywood book-to-movie adaptation, but honestly, that isn't even my main focus here. Anyone could to a loyal plot adaptation (which makes you wonder why Hollywood almost never does), but it takes deeper understanding than that to make an adaptation where every location and every character looks exactly like you imagined when reading the books. Kudos, Mr. Villeneuve - here's to the upcoming Dune Messiah.

Thank you for reading! Tune in next week for a silly one - a ranking of all the chess pieces.

Top 10 worst book-to-movie adaptations

Greetings, reader!

My friend Inari recently suggested this: a list of the worst book-to-film adaptations, and for next week, a list of the best ones. Here are some of the groundrules for how this double list works:

1. These are ranked based on how good they are as adaptations, and not as overall movies. Of course, this is often a gray area - being a good adaptation is about more than 100-percent plot loyalty, so next week's list of the best ones does feature some films where quite a lot has been changed - as long as the changes are well-reasoned and in the spirit of the book. Similarly, today's list has some instances where the film is actually very good overall, but still a poor adaptation.

2. It should go without saying, but I'll say it anyway: I've had to have read the book in order for the movie to qualify. There are many great films that I've seen that I know to be based on a book, and with many of them I've heard that they're loyal to the source material - but I can't be the judge of that unless the book is familiar to me.

3. Movies based on plays do generally qualify, especially if it's an older play so that they're clearly adapting the text, much like you'd do with a book adaptation, and not a whole stage production. Musicals are a gray area, but I ended up excluding them, because movies based on Broadway musicals etc. are never just adaptations of the text but also of the visual side of the stage production. Movies like 2012's Les Miserables, that are based on stage musicals that are based on books, were a grey area, but I ended up excluding them as well.

4. There are plenty of great TV shows based on books, but I decided to limit these lists to movies. Maybe I'll make a separate list of the worst and best book-to-television adaptations some day!

5. When a whole movie series is based on a book or a series of books, it can qualify as the whole series or as individual part depending on how my opinion of the adaptations fits these lists. Essentially, if the movie series is consistently good or bad as an adaptation, it will be counted as a whole for one of the lists, but if the series contains a film that is particularly well-adapted and one that is particularly ill-adapted, both individuals can qualify for their respective lists.

6. As is tradition with my lists, I attempted to look at these adaptations from every possible viewpoint, with each adaptation's specific ranking containing a sum of the good and bad parts. For example, the Hobbit trilogy won't be on either list, because there are elements that are so well-adapted that it didn't quite warrant a placement on today's list, but there are also elements so overkill that it didn't make it to next week's one either.

7. And finally, I limited these lists to adaptations that are at least somewhat conventional: for example, 10 Things I Hate About You is in many ways one of the coolest and most genius book adaptations out there, but it's so unconventional (because that's the point) that it's pretty impossible to compare to other, more conventional adaptations for the purposes of this list.

Without further ado, these are the worst book-to-movie adaptations I've seen!

Here are my honorable mentions: Romeo + Juliet (1996), Skavabölen Pojat (2009), Diary of a Wimpy Kid (2010), Pet Sematary (2019), The Call of the Wild (2020).

10. Frankenstein (1931)

This one is interesting, because it's a damn good movie - but, inescapably, a poor adaptation. If you look back at #1 at the 'rules' of the list, Frankenstein is quite a perfect example - every once in a while, a filmmaker will make a movie adaptation, totally disregard several key elements of the book and thus create what should be a recipe for chaos - and somehow nail the end product regardless.

As a fan of horror cinema, I respect the film for being a groundbreaking work with a vibe of its own, but as an even bigger fan of Mary Shelley's iconic novel, I can't help but be a little pissed about how most of the characters, motifs and key events in the book are either nonexistent, heavily changed or squandered in their potential. It's a classic of horror cinema, but it's definitely not the loyal adaptation that Mary Shelley's masterpiece deserved.

9. The Chronicles of Narnia: The Voyage of the Dawn Treader (2010)

The Narnia films are interesting, because the first one (spoiler alert!) might be seen on next week's list, yet this instalment of the same series is here. As a whole, the Narnia films are semi-average as book-to-film adaptations: they get many things right, but there's always a little something missing. Not enough to make them bad, but certainly enough that they don't reach the sacred hall of rare-but-real cases where the movie adaptations stands tall right next to the source material. There's no way around it - C.S. Lewis' Narnia books are in a league of their own, and the films are clearly inferior.

The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe is still a contender for next week's list, although it won't be in the very highest tiers: despite its flaws, it gets so many things right that it's an overwhelmingly good adaptation if not a great one. However, by The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, the franchise had gone further and further into the Hollywood cliché of "okay, do we really care about anything other than making money here?". The change isn't drastic, as it can be still recognized to be the same franchise, but the quality of adaptation is inherently worse. The plot takes some wild-ass liberties from the book, and the not the kind that are worth defending: many of the book's creative and interesting plotlines are abandoned in lieu of telling a much more generic and mediocre fantasy story that the film's writers pulled out of their asses. Some of the book's good parts can be enjoyed in the movie as well...but not enough.

8. The Shining (1980)

Now this case here is much like Frankenstein, but even weirder. The Shining is probably my favorite horror movie of all time, yet I'm still adamant about it belonging in today's list. I could write an essay about this whole thing, but I'll try to make it short here.

Stephen King's The Shining is a masterpiece of horror literature. Stanley Kubrick's The Shining takes the characters, setting, some of the ideas and some of the plot points from the book while overlooking (pun intended) a vast majority of the themes and plot events, and just makes his own thing with it - and it became a very different sort of masterpiece. I love the film, yet I completely understand why King himself hated it - not only is it very different from the book, but it wildly disregards many of its core themes, moments of character development, deep takeaways, and even the conclusion. It's like if the hot dog had been invented by a guy who was trying to make a hamburger and really f**ked up, or if a football player accidentally hit the ball and scored a goal when they were trying to kick the referee in the face.

7. Gulliver's Travels (2010)

And here we have the more basic sort of bad adaptation. A classic children's book is adapted onto the big screen for a lazy, generic cash grab of a film starring Jack Black. For all intents and purposes, it's less a Gulliver's Travels movie and more a Jack Black comedy that uses the place and character names from Gulliver's Travels as the things happening around the Jack Black humor. The film is funny enough when viewed once, but the magic and whimsy of the book is most definitely missing.

6. Sherlock Holmes (2009) and Sherlock Holmes: a Game of Shadows (2011)

Yeah, I never cared for the Sherlock Holmes films starring Robert Downey Jr. and Jude Law - not as overall cinema, but also not as adaptations. They're not the "filmmaker's own artistic vision gets in the way of being a loyal adaptation" genre of bad adaptations like The Shining, nor are they the "a good adaptation is attempted but the end result is cruddy and lazy" type like The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. Rather, it's a very specific subgenre of bad adaptations that really gets my goat: ones where the filmmaker treats the source material as a mere vibe, an aesthetic that you can cash in on, while making a shallow cash grab of a film that wildly disregards the themes of the source material.

Nothing in these films suggests that Guy Ritchie was one bit passionate about Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's novels, and that's really the worst sin you can commit when adapting a book; that's why all the best adaptations are ones where the filmmaker's genuine passion for the source material can be felt. The atmosphere in these films is very "Hey, look, it's SHERLOCK HOLMES, a sexy intellectual property that we can make a movie about, look at us, it's a SHERLOCK HOLMES movie, he's a smart genius detective et cetera!", while completely missing the mark on what the Holmes books are supposed to say or feel like.

5. Dune (1984)

First of all, I love this movie - but, like, in the same way that I love the Cheesy Gordita Crunch from Taco Bell. It's a glorious mess. As much of a cult classic (emphasis on "cult") as David Lynch's Dune is, it cannot be argued that as an adaptation, it's a wild miss that doesn't amount to even a fragment of what Frank Herbert's masterpiece of a book deserved.

From the clunky dialogue to the zany editing choices, from the style being a clash between over-artistic vision and not-artistic-enough studio-driven mediocrity to the inexplicable casting choices, from the hysterical visuals to the Toto soundtrack - every little element guarantees that you will have fun when watching this film, but for all the wrong reasons. I'm still glad that Lynch's Dune exists, especially since it made Villeneuve's against-all-odds fantastic adaptation decades later into an even greater payoff (just wait and see how highly it ranks on next week's list of the best book-to-movie adaptations).

4. Percy Jackson & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief (2010)

I have a complicated relationship with this one: as proved by its #1 placement on my blog post about my biggest guilty pleasure movies a few years ago, I can't help but love this film despite its many, many flaws. I completely understand why most people, and especially most people who had read the books, simply hate this movie. For whatever reason, something in the chaotic and cliché mess of an atmosphere really got to me, making the film into a personally nostalgic cult-classic with immense re-watch value for me.

That being said, I won't consider for one second that it would be a good or even okay adaptation.

The film plays fast-and-loose with the plot turns, characters, and whole vibe of the source material, making for an end product that goes differently and just feels different. So many key parts of Rick Riordan's fantastic book are totally absent, or then just changed to a point of no recognition. For me personally, this is actually quite a similar viewing experience to David Lynch's Dune - it's fun on some twisted level, but it's miles and miles away from being the adaptation that the book deserved.

3. Alice in Wonderland (2010)

This one infuriates me, because this bait-and-switch movie really has you in the first half. When getting into Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland, the whimsical locations look much like they do in Lewis Carroll's book, as do the zany characters. With artistic set design and fantastic casting, Burton tricks you into believing that you're watching a good adaptation. And then some of the most frustrating bullshit in cinematic history happens.

One thing that really pisses me off is filmmakers who adapt a story without understanding what the goddamn point of the story was. That shows a lack of understanding, or even worse, a lack of respect for the work that they're adapting, which is pretty goddamn unforgivable especially when touching a particularly respected work. And with Alice in Wonderland, for me and tons of people like me, the very best thing about the book has always been the sheer randomness of the plot - it's a borderline revolutionary story because it challenged the classic Aristotlean plot structure followed by 99% of storytellers. There's no clear ramp-up or endgame or common thread - a bunch of random shit just sort of happens and then it ends. That has always been what made the book off-putting for certain people, but that's also what makes fans of the book (y'know, the people WHO YOU SHOULD BE MAKING ADAPTATIONS FOR, TIM) love it so dearly.

And that's where the 2010 film goes so very, very, painfully wrong. Instead of continuing in the fun, random-encounters-driven plot of the source material, Burton panders to the kind of people who never would've liked the book in the first place, and delivers a horribly contrived, cliché-riddled final act with some fucking high-fantasy bullshit about Alice being the goddamn chosen one so she has to fight a fucking dragon in single combat. The final half an hour feels like Tim Burton showing the middle finger to Lewis Carroll's legacy, making it clear how he was the wrong person to make this film and has no respect and/or understanding for the original work.

2. Eragon (2006)

Jesus, what a mess. Christopher Paolini's Eragon novel may not have been a masterpiece, but it's certainly a decent fantasy adventure with a vibe of its own. And then there's the movie adaptation, where they took the character and location names from the book and tried to do The Lord of the Rings with them for 1 hour and 44 minutes.

Every single change from the source material (and believe, there are many) is clearly done with the exact same motivation: "the LOTR trilogy made tons of money, so maybe if we try to blatantly copy everything from there instead of adapting the book we're supposed to be adapting, we'll also make money!" Fucking idiots.

1. Noah (2014)

The book being adapted here is many things: many have called it the Good Book, or even the "Greatest story ever told" (by people who clearly haven't read The Lord of the Rings), while others view it as a strange cult classic (again, emphasis on "cult"). I pride myself in having read the Bible from cover to cover, motivated by historical intrigue and morbid curiosity - and I can say without the shadow of a doubt that Darren Aronofsky's Noah is the worst book-to-movie adaptation I've ever seen.

No matter what your views on Christianity or organized religion in general are, it's hard to argue that the story of Noah is an intriguing one. It's also a short one, so much so that the perfect big-screen adaptation would have to be a TV special or a short film. In order to make that story into an over-2-hour-movie (WHICH NO ONE FUCKING ASKED FOR, DARREN), one would have to really use their imaginations to stretch it out. And when the writers in question don't exactly have the best imaginations, you end up with a ridiculous mess involving made-up characters, contrived action sequences and goddamn rock monsters (I pardon my language, but I promise that it's nothing compared to the profound blasphemy that is this movie).

There have been many interpretations of the Bible across human history, and if I were to rank the very worst ones, this joke of a movie would be a solid #3, only barely losing out to the Crusades and the U.S. right-wing evangelical movement.

Thank you for reading! Tune in next week for the better side of the same coin, as I rank the very best book-to-movie adaptations of all time.

Ranking every episode of The Bear

Greetings, reader!

Well, I recently watched all four seasons of FX's The Bear, and I gotta tell you - it really is worth all the hype. Between the elite-level acting, the exquisite music choices and the bold choice of actually focusing on the thing the series is supposed to be about more than other shows (I've learned delightfully much about the restaurant world watching this culinary extravaganza), it's definitely one of the best current TV shows. Here is my ranking of every episode from the four seasons that have been released so far!

38. Legacy (Season 3 Episode 7)

I have to agree with popular opinion in saying that season 3 is undoubtedly the weakest one thus far - it's not bad, but it ended up being a bit underwhelming especially by the show's high standards. And all of the season's problems are weirdly personified in this episode.

Usually, even the more disjointed episodes of The Bear are tied together by some thematic connection, making every episode feel like it has its own individual personality. Legacy is a glaring exception; it feels like a series of vignettes and separate character moments that have very little to do with each other. It reads like the writers would've realized they haven't done enough groundwork for the season's major themes in a smooth enough way, so they sacrificed this one episode and filled it with every "this one thing needs to happen for an eventual payoff in a different episode" plot thread. It sort of works, as the rest of the season is decent, but at the cost of this episode being a bit of a mess.

37. Pop (Season 2 Episode 5)

Season 2, on the other hand, is easily the show's best (and one of the best individual TV seasons of the 2020's). Yes, it has this one significantly weaker episode, but I don't even mind, because Pop is an admittedly important piece of the puzzle nonetheless. With its focus on storylines like Carmy and Claire's relationship and Tina continuing to thrive at culinary school, you could say the same critiques that I said of Legacy, with the important distinction that Pop doesn't feel nearly as poorly planned and/or disjointed.

It's not a bad episode for the sake of good future episodes; it's just a slower and more uneventful episode, paving the way for eventual payoffs, like you see all the time on shows like Better Call Saul or Andor. So, it's much more forgivable, even if it isn't the most riveting viewing experience in itself.

36. Apologies (Season 3 Episode 9)

As an individual episode of The Bear, Apologies is alright - but as the penultimate episode of its season, it's somewhat of a letdown (especially when considering what absolute powerhouses the second-last episodes of seasons 1 and 2 were). Throughout season 3, you keep thinking "maybe all these weaker moments and storylines will be worth it, I trust that they have a good plan", and this is the point where you realize: oh, this is it.

Mind you, not in a terrible way. Again, I enjoyed season 3 a lot even if it is the weakest of the bunch. My realization across Apologies wasn't that it has been / is going to end up being a bad season, but rather the acceptance that it's not going to be a great one. There's no major cliffhanger or exciting setup of the finale - then again, does there always have to be? Apologies takes the story forward in a manner that helps build towards the surprisingly good season 3 finale, not to mention laying the groundwork for the superb fourth season.

35. Soubise (Season 4 Episode 2)

Even the weakest episode of the newest season is pretty a-okay. Soubise is nothing special, but a good 'team player' sort of episode - the gradual character work happening here lays important groundwork for more memorable and impactful storylines across the road, and unlike the third season, the show manages to do this less exhilarating part without veering on boredom. The episode isn't riveting, but it's engaging enough to keep you invested, knowing there's better stuff to come. The better the prep, the more delicious the eventual meal!

34. System (Season 1 Episode 1)

The pilot episode is ranked weirdly low, especially considering how it's by no means a bad pilot. Some shows take their while to form, making the first episode seem like an odd one out upon rewatch, but not this one - The Bear knew what kind of series it was going to be with admirable clarity from the start, and the inaugural episode is a very no-bullshit, straight-to-the-point introduction to the story and characters, with even the show's signature style already on full blast.

It's ranked this low because, simply put, a vast majority of the show's episodes are pretty amazing, and this very solid pilot ends up being one of the weakest ones. It does everything a pilot is supposed to do, laying such a good groundwork that the rest of the series spread its wings to a point of surpassing the original with nearly every episode.

33. Violet (Season 3 Episode 4)

Episodes like this really prove why today's lowest-ranked episode Legacy sticks out like a sore thumb. Violet is your typical below-average The Bear episode - nothing too wildly conceptual, dramatically emotional or chaotically eventful happens like in the best instalments - but it's still thematically consistent enough to work. We follow many of the main characters in their own separate storylines, but when you compare the episode to Legacy, you have to appreciate how this one doesn't feel nearly as random.

Yes, the storylines are separate - yet are they, really? Richie's struggles with adjusting his parenting role into his post-divorce era strike similar emotions as Sydney's career crossroads, and Natalie slowly finding how she fits into the restaurant leadership mirrors similar themes as well. For an episode so spread out, Violet still has its own personality, best personified by the namesake scene where Marcus stops on his way to work after noticing a particularly beautiful flower amidst the mundane scenery. Lowkey beautiful stuff.

32. Dogs (Season 1 Episode 4)

You'll find a lot of season 1 in the just-below-midpoint section of the list, as the debut season was very solid yet ultimately a springboard for even better things to come. In Dogs, the heavily loaded relationship between Carmy and Richie is fleshed out as they cater a kids' birthday party together.

It's a decent episode, but everything it does well would be overshadowed by similar-but-better episodes later in the show's run: the dynamic between the duo is engagingly complex here but only a shadow of what they would grow into, the moments of comedy work but aren't among the show's funniest, and the off-restaurant setting is a fresh change of pace but pales in comparison to some of the more out-of-the-box milieus we'd go on to see.

31. Children (Season 3 Episode 5)

This, on the other hand, is one of the funniest episodes. The ever-escalating Fak lore seems to divide fan opinions, but I'm all for it - life shouldn't be taken too seriously, and the hilarious Fak mayhem brings a lot to the show's heart and is a nice counterbalance to some of the heavier elements. I get why John Cena guest starring as Sammy Fak was a bit overkill for some people, but I honestly found his dynamic with the already-familiar Faks to be hysterically fun. While the comedy element is the most memorable part of Children, it's also an alright episode by other measures - this is where we first meet Uncle Computer!

30. Green (Season 4 Episode 8)

This episode from the latter half of season 4 feels a bit worse than it actually is, because it's a below-average instalment stuck in the middle of some positively amazing episodes to both sides. Green is still surprisingly strong, in its own subdued way. The pace is slow, but we get important plot progression such as Sydney finally making a decision regarding Shapiro's restaurant, fascinating character interactions like Luca helping Tina, and season-endgame build-up like Natalie's talk with Uncle Computer as the countdown timer nears its end. Despite not being a great episode on any fronts, it's a very decent one on all.

29. Sundae (Season 2 Episode 3)

I'd imagine that episodes like Sundae read like parodies of what The Bear feels like for people who do not like the show. It's montage after montage after montage, feeling almost like a bunch of music videos stringed together as we follow Sydney going on a deep-dive taste testing mission for inspiration across various Chicago restaurants. Thankfully, I'm one of the people who loves the show and its signature style, and the only reason that Sundae isn't higher is that we're really starting to get to the good ones and there are many even better episodes out there. That being said, this episode is a damn good one, and an auditive-visual treat.

28. Hands (Season 1 Episode 2)

An immediate step up from the pilot, the show's second episode is slightly less hectic and the first - and while there's nothing wrong with hectic (in fact, hectic is one of the things the series does best), it does mean that there's room to breathe and flesh out the characters. You know and care a lot more about them after Hands, and that's an important thing going forward.

This is especially notable in Sydney and Richie's supply-run subplot, as both characters start to feel like real, complex humans and their dynamic is immediately compelling. There's also a lot of depth to be found in Carmy's storyline, particularly his flashbacks to his time working in the world's best restaurant in New York, with Community alumnus Joel McHale guest starring as the horrible boss who gave the protagonist some of his many mental scars.

27. Sheridan (Season 1 Episode 5)

One of the things I love best about this series is how it's actually about the thing it's supposed to be about. Nearly every TV series that has to do with a certain occupation, hobby or culture gets the same criticism from me: too much of the type of human drama we get in every other show as well, and not enough about the world this series claims to be about. I think writers are afraid to get too niche with the kind of dialogue and storytelling that might scare mainstream audiences, but I always want to learn more about the show's unique setting. I wanted more football from Ted Lasso, more mafia from The Sopranos, more local politics from Parks & Rec and more chess from The Queen's Gambit.

And that's what I love about The Bear - it's a restaurant show that's like 90 per cent restaurant.

And the best part is, we still get tons of fascinating human drama and character-driven storytelling. But, we also get a shit-ton of education on how the culinary world works, and I feel like a more typical showrunner would've sidelined this element. I love the lengthy scenes of chefs preparing food, messaging that this is a bold series not afraid to scare off normalcy-seeking viewers but rather making a piece of art for whoever is interested. Sheridan from the first season is one of the first episodes where this really hit me: every storyline is deeply involved in the world of cuisine, and it's a thing to behold.

26. Replicants (Season 4 Episode 5)

In season 4, even the less eventful and more build-up oriented episodes had plenty of material to set themselves apart and make themselves memorable. Replicants isn't anything too special when compared to the big highlights of the season, but it's still got a lot going on for it, especially for an episode that is among the weaker instalments of its season.

There's some hilarious dialogue in Ebraheim's scenes, the return of fan-favorite guest chef Luca, some major character growth on Carmy's part (FINALLY) that would pave the way for even bigger breakthroughs later in the season, and an abrupt and emotional ending cliffhanger as we learn of Sydney's father's heart attack.

25. Brigade (Season 1 Episode 3)

The thing about Sydney Adamu is that she's the best character in a series full of great characters, and right around the third episode is when I realized it. Ayo Adebiri's sledgehammer performance is on full display here, as the relatively new sous-chef tries running the sort of system that Carmy proposed for The Beef, only to find several kinks in the system that have to be worked out. As the first truly Sydney-centric episode, Brigade does wonders to flesh out her character, and to further build her inspired yet strained relationship with Carmy.

24. Pasta (Season 2 Episode 2)

Season 2 of The Bear is one of the best TV seasons of the decade, and episodes like Pasta shine an interesting light on why that is. It's not even among the season's best episodes, but it still has a lot to say about why the season works so well: the deadline of the approaching opening day was a perfect season-spanning plot device, and as a chapter in that story, Pasta does everything right to advance the plot and keep things interesting.

After the stage was set for the season in the premiere, this is a very logical next step, as we follow multiple characters in their own storylines, all of which tie into the shared larger goal looming up ahead. This makes for a comprehensive view on all the different fronts of what preparations must be made when one is not only about to open a new restaurant, but open a restaurant with the goal of being a truly great one. Tina and Ebra are sent to culinary school to improve upon themselves, Richie and Fak work on renovations and a mold problem, Carmy and Sydney do some creative menu planning, and everything is absolutely enthralling for a viewer like me. A delicious chapter of the story!

23. Ceres (Season 1 Episode 6)

First of all, kudos to Michael Berzatto (Jon Bernthal) - one of the show's best characters, and the first man to join the female-dominated field of 'TV characters who die right before the story begins but whose death leaves such a haunting mark on the show that the character is among the show's best despite no longer being with us in a physical sense'. He's there, standing tall with giants like Laura Palmer and Mary Alice Young.

Ceres is the first time we see Mikey, and oh man - even in a series so exceptionally full of genius casting choices, this one stands out. I wasn't one bit surprised to see Jon Bernthal, because of course it's him, to a degree that I felt I should've guessed the casting beforehand. It's heartbreaking to see the guy pre-suicide, and the flashback opening is the episode's strongest suit. The rest is by no means bad, as Richie's character undergoes some psychologically fascinating conflict regarding his fear of change in Chicago's "delicate ecosystem", while Sydney continues to kick ass in the kitchen and Jeremy Allen White continues to act is heart out in his role of a lifetime.

22. Sophie (Season 4 Episode 6)

Enter Sophie! Natalie's newborn daughter is here, and cute, and meeting everyone - and all around her, the heart of the show is flourishing. Characters are being nice to each other again, in what I see as a major part of why the show's season-to-season structure has worked so well. Season 1 was all about everyone having the worst time and not being the best version of themselves, season 2 was all about said characters growing and finding ways to improve (thus the multitude of wholesome episodes), season 3 was a gripping and all-too-real look about how life is complicated and growth isn't easy (therefore so much frustrating moments of characters repeating negative cycles) - and season 4 is once again about growth, this time on a more profound level, the level of really making the effort to work on oneself and improve in the long run even when it isn't easy.

The episode is mainly marked by tender, well-acted heart-to-heart interactions between characters, where instances of pain come up yet better ways forward are discussed. Whether it's Claire Bear comforting Sydney at the hospital, Natalie helping Carmy deal with his fears regarding his strained relationship to their mother or Richie confiding in Jess about his anxiety about his ex-wife's re-marriage and its implications on his role as a father, all of the central dialogues are eye-opening and ultimately uplifting. Not to mention, excellent setup for the upcoming wedding episode!

21. Doors (Season 3 Episode 3)

Almost one hundred per cent of Doors is montage-form footage of the restaurant being run. I can just imagine how unappealing that is for all sorts of viewers, ranging from ones who want their shows mainstream and conventional all the way to elitist haters who love to criticize anything they can call 'over-artistic' or 'style over substance'. For those of us who land in between, in a place of liking cool and artistic stuff because it's cool and artistic (honestly, such a fun and carefree way of looking at the world, very recommended), an episode like this is paradise.

Not everything needs a conventional narrative - an entire episode of the people working at The Bear doing their jobs with no special plot emphasis is out-of-the-box, but it's so well-made and fun to follow that I really don't mind. After the lengths that season 2 went to to show how much work went into getting the restaurant up and running, I'd honestly be pissed if season 3 didn't have an episode like this and would just skip to the next major story directions.

20. Forever (Season 3 Episode 10)

The generally divisive season 3 finale may be the least-good of the four season finales we've had thus far by a long shot - but I still like it very much. I see why many people didn't, and it's not like it's a mind-blowing masterpiece...but I still appreciate what they were going for. I think the main issue with why it isn't better than this has to do with the season leading up to it - a finale can only be as good as the season leading up to it, and the lack of clear and concise build-up across season 3 (at least compared to the other, more coherent seasons) meaning that the payoff can only go so hard.

Still, I think Forever does an admirable job with the cards it was dealt. Seeing characters like Luca and Chef Terry again is a blast, the inclusion of real-life chefs discussing their passion for the work is a brilliant way of making it all feel real, and Carmy confronting Chef David is a major milestone for his character. The latter is also a neat bridge into season 4, as I see that this moment is a turning point that allows Carmy to reflect deeper on his shortcomings, setting up the character growth and general owning-up we see from him in season 4.

19. Next (Season 3 Episode 2)

The dialogue in this series is so good that sometimes you can just build an entire f**king episode around that. Not much else happens in Next, and not much else needs to - following a conversation turn into a heated argument with a majority of the main cast present is an absolute riot, as the screenplay as well as the line deliveries by the actors are so amazing. The word 'chef' is said 24 times in the 22-minute runtime - and if you think that's a lot, then brace yourself for the SIXTY-EIGHT utterances of 'fuck' in the same timeframe.

18. Beef (Season 2 Episode 1)

The debut season ended in a very promising manner - "THE BEEF IS CLOSED / THE BEAR IS COMING" - and season 2 wastes no time in blasting off with just the kick-ass tone you'd expect. The timetable that would color the entire masterpiece of a season is set, as Carmy, Sydney and Sugar concur that the restaurant will open in exactly three months. Beef does a fantastic job setting up pretty much every great thing we'd get in the season to come, with a bunch of plot threads just waiting to pay off at the right time. The use of Refused's New Noise in the soundtrack as the high-intensity planning begins is just peak television, and the episode reads as a promise of a great season to come.

17. Groundhogs (Season 4 Episode 1)

As good as the season 2 premiere was, the very similar opening chapter of season 4 is even slightly better. The literal ticking clock for the time The Bear has to turn its revenue around is introduced, making for a heavy-handed yet admittedly fantastic plot device for the season-long arch. The use of The Who's Getting in Tune in the episode's pivotal moment is just an unreal auditive-visual experience, and the return of the characters from season 2's legendary Forks episode (Richie's 'non-negotiables') in the midst of an already kick-ass montage scene is just dangerously good television. Hell yeah.

16. Bolognese (Season 2 Episode 8)

Season 2 being as wholesome as it is (for the most part) was such a welcome surprise - one doesn't expect it after the hectic and stressful first season, but it's not too abrupt of a tone-change, as it still feels very much like the same show but just with the characters evolving as people do sometimes. This episode really drives home the point that the wholesomeness of Forks wasn't a one-time thing, but rather that this is what the show is now - or at least would be for the time being.

Much like how life really goes, the good times never last forever, and things in the season 2 finale would go wrong enough that we got a whole season 3 of worse times, only for season 4 to pick up the pieces once again. This dynamic works very well, and even in the worst of times, it helps to remember moments of bliss like the passing of the fire safety test in season 2's Bolognese. The sense of community between the main characters can be felt like a physical presence in this episode, as they were truly becoming a family.

15. Ice Chips (Season 3 Episode 8)

On paper, "a character gives birth and her is mother is there to guide her through the experience" isn't the most riveting pitch for a TV episode. But, the acting prowess of Abby Elliott and Jamie Lee Curtis, as well as the world-class writing behind their characters and relationship, carry Ice Chips into the realm of elite television. The dialogue is touching, the line deliveries mesmerizing, and the placement of the episode in the show's narrative is a vital turning point.

As I've mentioned, season 3 was largely about the frustrating repetition of harmful patterns while season 4 was about growing and healing - and this episode, smacked in the tail end of season 3, stuck out like a sore thumb in the best way possible, as a means of paving the way for the more upbeat fourth season. If it wasn't for these baby steps of healing in Sugar's relationship with her mother, we wouldn't have the headway for Sugar's sibling relationship with Carmy, Carmy's gradual forgiveness towards Donna, and the way all three characters finally start to heal from the scars left by Mikey's suicide in season 4.

14. Worms (Season 4 Episode 4)

How this masterclass only has a 7.6 on IMDB is beyond me. I enjoyed Worms immensely, and was delighted to hear about its behind-the-scenes backstory afterwards: showrunner Christopher Storer saw that there was room between plot-heavy episodes for a more reflective, Sydney-centric episode - and tasked the actress behind the show's best character with writing it.

Ayo Edebiri enlisted the help of fellow cast member Lionel Boyce, and the two of them just had fun with it, writing a Sydney-focused episode with brilliant dialogue, deep character work and a fun vibe. Again, I love the little ways in which the show is made to feel so real - and having the actress behind Sydney write an episode about the stuff the character is going through is just such a cool way of fleshing the character out.

13. Scallops (Season 4 Episode 3)

Style-wise, this is classic The Bear, with the music choices on point, the food-prep scenes delicious, and the cast bringing their A-game. Theme-wise, this is the point where the wholesome-despite-the-barriers vibe of season 4 is really broken in. Based on the first two episodes, the viewer couldn't be sure what kind of season it was heading to be, but the amount of heart and healing in Scallops makes it abundantly clear that it's going to be tonally closer to the ultimately optimistic season 2 than the cynical season 3 - and what a welcome and earned change in tone that was!

This is best examplified in the snow-experience scene, which is the kind of pure magic that you rarely see in your critically acclaimed dramas in an era where dark and morally grey antihero-story stories are all the rage. The theme of positively surprising and heartfelt development continues with Carmy's storyline, as his conversation with Claire Bear is just a beautifully written and acted moment of healing in the face of obstacles. This episode feels like what I imagine Marcus' desserts to taste like.

12. Honeydew (Season 2 Episode 4)

This episode was directed by national treasure Ramy Youssef, who previously worked together with Christopher Storer on his show Ramy. It makes so much sense that these two shows were imagined by two close friends and colleague who helped each other out with both respective projects: both combine drama and comedy ingeniously, and both break from narrative norms in a similarly refreshing manner (in both shows, it's common for an episode to end by simply having two characters have a reflective conversation for 5 minutes in lieu of a conventional climax or cliffhanger ending).

In Honeydew, Youssef's somber and reflective directing style is a perfect fit for the side-quest script, as we follow Marcus when he's sent to Copenhagen to train with the best. The best, in this case, is Chef Luca, played by the impeccable Will Poulter in what may the best performance so far from his impressive career. The episode is slow-paced in a beautifully atmospheric way, and the chemistry between Marcus and Luca is the kind that we don't see enough on our TV shows: two men, becoming friends, not in the most typical masculine way, but by talking stuff out and getting to know each other in authentic moments of tender vulnerability.

Also, the 'food porn' element of this dessert-heavy episode is off the charts.

11. Tomorrow (Season 3 Episode 1)

Many people gave the deeply artistic season 3 premiere negative reviews, for reasons like "nothing new happens" and "it's just a bunch of stuff we already knew about". For those people, fear not: there is a new Fast & Furious film in development, and I hear Michael Bay is working on a new Transformers sequel as well. Depth and interesting characters aren't for everyone (I know this makes me sound like an obnoxious elitist, but really, WHY do you watch over 2 seasons of a show like The Bear if you don't get the first thing about it? Do you people understand how immensely boring our movies and TV would be if there was some dumb f**king rule that some new plot twist has to happen every five seconds in order to stimulate your TikTok brain? You can always go ask goddamn ChatGPT to write you a more eventful The Bear episode if you really hate art so much).

Okay, rant over. Tomorrow is one of the better season premieres in modern television, as Christopher Storer really went all out with the bold gimmick. The soundtrack for the entire episode is a loop of Nine Inch Nails' melancholic Together, which creates a fantastic vibe for what we see: Carmy, dealing with the immediate aftermath of the chaotic events in the season 2 premiere in the present, while flashing back to several key moments on his path to that point. The end result reads as a profound look at the protagonist's mindset, and all the different relationships and moments in his life that fucked him up, painting his as a more complex character than ever before. You're frustrated at the guy, yet you care about him deeply, and you can really appreciate why it's so hard for him to grow and reach out. Bittersweet.

10. Tonnato (Season 4 Episode 9)

The conversation between Carmy and Donna alone warrants a high placement for the newest season's penultimate episode. The acting performances are so raw, really making the viewer appreciate the scope of how much baggage there is in their fucked-up relationship, and how beautiful it is that they're making an effort despite all of that. It's a massive moment for both characters.

My favorite part of the whole interaction is that silent moment after Donna's long monologue - in that moment, the first-time viewer has NO idea what Carmy will say or do in response, and there's something beautiful about that. The characters in the show (and the main character in particular) are so realistic and complex, that you feel like you know the guy and should therefore be able to predict how he'll react - but his relationship with his mother is so complicated that any number of reactions might seem likely. He might start to yell angrily, or break down in tears, or be wholesome and give her a hug, or leave the room without a word, or just anything really. There's something hauntingly beautiful about that unsure moment, before the dialogue carries on.

Also, the episode ends in one hell of a cliffhanger, setting up what is sure to be quite the finale.

9. Napkins (Season 3 Episode 6)

The atmospheric and beautiful Marcus episode from season 2 walked so that the even more atmospheric and beautiful Tina episode from season 3 could run. In the definitive highpoint of this generally uneven season, we follow the backstory of this beloved yet underrated character, as actress Liza Colón-Zayas pours equal parts heart and grit into her sledgehammer performance.

The episode can be seen as any number of things - commentary on class struggles in the U.S., a tribute to the middle-aged working-class woman, a portrayal of the immigrant experience, or a neat fill-in on the lore with Mikey and The Beef. All this is tied together into a subdued and cohesive episode by director *checks notes* Ayo Edebiri? In her directorial debut?? Is there anything she doesn't kick ass at?!

8. Omelette (Season 2 Episode 9)

The second-last episode of the show's best season follows the moments leading up to the opening of the friends-and-family 'soft launch' of The Bear. The whole episode is pretty riveting, with everything that has been set up throughout the season either starting to pay off or remaining in an ever-tense state of further build-up for the upcoming finale - but it's those final moments that make this into a top ten episode of the show.

It's not even my bias as a lifelong AC/DC fan (although I'm sure it doesn't hurt either) when I say that out of the many, many sublime song choices throughout the series, very few stand as tall as If You Want Blood You've Got It in that cliffhanger montage about the final seconds before the grand opening. It sets a perfect atmosphere to a visually and dramaturgically excellent scene, as the sense of "it's all coming together" hype is a physical presence.

It's impressively relatable - obviously, I've never opened a restaurant, but I reckon that anyone who has ever completed a huge project and remembers that adrenaline-charged feeling when everything is ready and the moment has arrived and you're extremely excited yet nervous would agree that this scene is a perfect encapsulation of that sensation. When I think back on the musical I directed at the end of my studies, or my diploma concert in high school - that feeling of the last seconds before it's go time is absolutely captured by this amazing scene.

7. Braciole (Season 1 Episode 8)

Kicking off with a mesmerizing single-take monologue where Jeremy Allen White acts his heart out, it becomes immediately clear that the season 1 finale is a thing to behold. The relentless sense of "dramatic turning point" remains throughout the episode, with characters going through defining moments that feel hectic and desparate yet ultimately set up their growth in season 2 in a necessary manner.

The scene where Carmy receives Mikey's letter from beyond the grave is incredibly moving; both the "let it rip" dialogue and the line about how the family used to communicate via food from before were amazing pieces of setup for this emotionally charged payoff, as Mikey's last message to his brother is revealed to be a recipe (with the words "let it rip" on the other side). The whole tone of the series seems to shift for the more optimistic from here, and the season's culmination is immortalized in that final visual that truly makes you realize how the story is only getting started: "THE BEEF IS CLOSED / THE BEAR IS COMING".

6. Goodbye (Season 4 Episode 10)

I especially like the conversation between the main characters in the back yard of the restaurant.

Get it? Because that's the whole episode?

No, but seriously - it takes some guts to finish off the highly anticipated season finale of a hit series with a season finale that consists entirely of one conversation. But the gambit paid off - Goodbye is an emotional roller coaster with 10/10 acting performances across the board. It's already pure gold when it's just Carmy and Sydney discussing the big changes ahead (and the baggage of the past) in a raw, honest manner - and it just gets better when Richie arrives (honestly, no scene of The Bear ever gets worse if that guy is added into the mix), and Sugar as the final ingredient is such a sweet touch (see what I did there?). Dramatic, emotional, and bold - that's how you end a season, and make sure that I'll be counting the days to season 5.

5. Forks (Season 2 Episode 7)

This is the highest-rated episode of the show so far on IMDB, and I love that - usually, for a 9.7, you need a shocking character death or some other earth-shattering twist. It is very rare for an episode like this - subtle, lowkey, character-driven and slow-paced - to receive such a rating. I think that the popularity of Forks says a lot about how the show found its target audience; it takes a fandom that is truly appreciative of gradual, beautiful storytelling and honest character development in order for an episode like this to become the show's golden child instead of an underrated background gem.

Yeah, it's impossible not to love Forks. In an age where our TV is full of darkness and antiheroes while the real life outside it is increasingly run by downright villains, stories about growth and kindness feel more and more like a much-needed breath of fresh air. Richie's character development here is magnificent; so much of his arch happens in this one episode, as the dude seems to change before our very eyes in a manner that feels realistic and not rushed despite its profound nature. Ebon Moss-Bachrach's heartfelt performance feels soul-healing, the atmosphere of the Ever is immaculate, and Olivia Colman's guest performance is just the extra spice needed to top off this delicate masterpiece.

4. Bears (Season 4 Episode 7)

Never was the upbeat-in-an-earned-way vibe of season 4 more prominent than in its best episode, Bears. Pretty much every character imaginable is gathered for Tiffany's wedding, and in the opening act, there's a hellishly strong sense that things might go very wrong. One anticipates a Fishes Part Two, as the guests mingle and all the drama and troubled relationships are fresh in the viewer's mind.

But then, something crazy happens - they all just kind of get along and have a good time??

It's amazingly powerful how a show where the characters have so much realistic pain and trauma can make such a wholesome turn feel just as realistic. Yeah, those people could be fighting and crying, but they're not, because they've all been healing, and y'know what? To quote every pessimist describing why they love the saddest episode of a series, "Sometimes life just goes that way". Yeah, it works this way, too. The characters all deserve a break at this point, as does the viewer, and the whole episode is very entertaining amidst all the sweetness.

Also, finally getting to see the downright-mythical Francie Fak and Brie Larson being the actress was perfection.

3. The Bear (Season 2 Episode 10)

For an episode to have a 9.4 on IMDB, but for me to still consider it inherently underrated, it has got to be something special. That is the case with the pitch-perfect culmination of season 2 - while I get why it didn't quite reach the popularity and acclaim of the more distinctive Fishes and Forks, but I consider it to be in the very same tier nonetheless. Yes, it is in many ways a typical (and in parts predictable) season finale - but the thing that sets it apart is how every little detail is so good. In today's TV milieu, there's nothing special about a well-written and climactic season finale where a bunch of plot threads pay off - we get like ten of those per year. But, somehow, this show's titular episode (bold move, by the way) is even better than ninety-five per cent of similar ones.

It's not any one thing that makes it into such a masterwork, but rather the combination of a thousand little things. There are so many elements that feel like the episode would still work and might still be a 10/10 without it, but the presence of that thing makes an already excellent episode even better. That goes for the artistic and well-coordinated long takes, the tonal shift with the walk-in incident paving the way for a more issue-filled season 3 after a more uplifting season 2, the unforgettable moments like Richie running the kitchen to the backdrop of Pearl Jam's Animal, the dialogue and acting in understated moments (Pete and Donna outside the restaurant) as well as the five-star big scenes (Richie and Carmy's heart-wrenching argument from opposing sides of the door)...absolute chef's kiss.

2. Review (Season 1 Episode 7)

Speaking of long takes, there's one in this episode that, apart from the incredibly melancholic and atmospheric opening montage to the tune of Sufjan Stevens' Chicago, IS the whole episode. In the tradition of Mr. Robot's eps3.4_runtime-error.r00 and The Haunting of Hill House's Two Storms, the gimmick isn't there just for the sake of the gimmick, but rather it is utilized for just the narratively right episode, to convey a sense of urgency and intensity in a way that wouldn't be possible without the gimmick.

This makes the greatness of the episode twofold: everything related to the technique behind the gimmick is awe-inspiring (the coordination, the high-pressure acting, the cinematography - no notes), and the unique atmosphere that this helps create makes for a viewing experience that would undoubtedly be great even if you wouldn't notice that it's all one take. The variety of tense character relationships that had been built up towards the beautifully stressful debut season - Carmy and Richie, Richie and Sydney, somehow also Sydney and Carmy - all come to a boiling point here, and the end result is explosive. I loved the episode so much that I re-watched it on the very next day, just wanting to re-live the experience as it's so well-made and immersive.

Like the ending of Omelette, the entirety of Review is relatable even if you haven't been through exactly the same (although I'd imagine it hits the hardest for people who have worked in hectic restaurants). But, trust me - anyone who has been in any sort of chaotic, high-pressure work environment will find the episode extremely real. I kept wondering what it is that the vibe and escalation in Review remind me of, until I realized it - I split my years working as a camp counselor between two different summer camps under the same organization, and one was significantly more stressful, high-pressure and million-moving-parts-at-all-times than the other. And as different as that job is from a restaurant environment, I still found that the last 15 minutes of Review capture with perfection how it felt like to go through a particularly, eh, eventful day in that job.

1. Fishes (Season 2 Episode 6)

As you can see from several of my descriptions, The Bear has a knack for capturing universally relatable human experiences - and, concerning my #1 pick, that has me wondering. You see, I come from what I consider to be a very chill and healthy family, where we've always loved and supported each other unconditionally, communicated well, and had very little drama. And Fishes is my favorite episode of this series, because its depiction of a dysfunctional family Christmas is so incredibly well-done that I feel indirect resonation via stories that I've heard from friends who come from more, uh, complicated families. It makes me wonder - if Fishes hits so hard for someone like me, who has never really experienced firsthand what the episode is about, then how cataclysmically hard must it hit for people with family Christmas trauma, people who have lived it?

Reading some IMDB reviews gave me a pretty clear answer. While for me, Fishes hits superlatives like "the best episode of this series" and "best Christmas episode of the 2020's", there are other people who went a bit further - phrases like "representation that healed my soul", "I cried for the entire runtime because I have experienced this exact Christmas", "the most relatable piece of media I have ever witnessed", and "the greatest TV episode of all time because of how real it is" were thrown around.

I love that this episode means so much to so many people, on such a personal level. It says something that even when I don't have such a personal connection to it, I still have it as my #1 episode of the entire show, because it's just such mesmerizing television. Like, there's the insane casting choices (my heart jumped when Community alumnus Gillian Jacobs, comedy mastermind John Mulaney, critical darling Bob Odenkirk and the legendary Jamie Lee Curtis showed up within the span of a few minutes) - but that's just the tip of the iceberg. The style the episode was shot and edited in, combined with the rapid-tempo dialogue, make for an atmosphere that is simultaneously mega-entertaining and borderline hilarious, yet also seriously unsettling with a strong undercurrent of panic.

The episode also gives so much context for the Berzatto family in a heartbreaking manner. Like, you've wondered what the hell is up with the clearly fucked-up Carmy, the more subtly fucked-up Natalie and the tragically deceased Mikey - and spending one episode with their mother makes you go "oh, I get it now". It's a harrowing depiction of mental illness, painting a complex picture of a mother like Donna Berzatto being a victim herself that you care for deeply, yet her lack of self-awareness (or just a diagnosis) really makes you feel for her kids and understand their resentment. If anything, the episode showcases the importance of therapy, diagnoses and overall mental health work.

Also, despite all the first-time guest performances being an amazing addition, the MVP of the episode is without a doubt Jon Bernthal as Mikey - we had seen him in flashbacks before, but Fishes is where we really realize what a great guy yet troubled soul he was, as he's painted as a complex and realistic human to a degree that makes the already-sad knowledge of his suicide about a million times more heartbreaking. Episodes like this make you realize that even thought the show is about a restaurant on paper, and even though I love to praise how a big chunk of the show really is about food - it's also about so much more than just that.

Thank you for reading! Tune in next week, and the week after that, for two posts suggested by my friend Inari - the top 10 worst book-to-movie adaptation, and the top 10 best ones.