Best of 2023
Welcome to this year’s list of my favorite books, music, television, and film! Where, for the first time ever, I actually managed to make this year’s list shorter than last’s.
Books
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Books 〰️
Despite taking until March to finish my first book of this year, it was actually quite a good year for reading. In addition to my usual blurbs for this section, I’m also including the first lines of each book in italics at the end of each paragraph. First lines are essential to the construction of novels (chapters, etc.), some people stop reading after them if they don’t like them, and they are so, so hard to write.
Whereabouts — Jhumpa Lahiri
Following an unnamed female narrator, Whereabouts is told in a series of diary-like entries, each only a few pages long. Sometimes these entries are directly related, other times just loosely, following what the narrator feels like sharing. While Lahiri lives in Rome, there’s nothing to directly suggest that this lonely, Italian-small-town-wandering woman at the center of this book is anything like her. I can’t even explain, really, what happens in this novel, beyond saying that it follows the narrator in all aspects of her life. It follows her self-perceived flaws, her exciting adventures, her (and more often occurring) mundane, borderline boring life experiences. The novel is a portrait of a flawed, lonely, and overall easily loveable character as she navigates the everyday trials and tribulations of life. It’s beautifully written, and while it’s the first of Lahiri’s novels I’ve read, I can’t wait to read more.
“In the mornings after breakfast I walk past a small marble plaque propped against the high wall flanking the road.”
Less Than Zero — Bret Easton Ellis
I’ve begun to realize that, with exceptions of course, the kind of novel I tend to like boils down to: “at least mildly disturbing.” Whether it’s Chuck Palahniuk or Kurt Vonnegut or Cormac McCarthy, for some reason I tend to gravitate towards fiction that features characters or situations that are just slightly…off. I picked up Less Than Zero on a professor’s recommendation to another student, and I absolutely loved it. I was slightly familiar with Bret Easton Ellis in that I’d seen American Psycho before, but otherwise was going in kind of blind. The strong perspective, relatively uncomplicated prose, and unapologetic nature of the characters and novel as a whole was immediately appealing, so much so that I now want to check out Ellis’s other work. This novel creeps up on you, in a way. I mean, there’s people being horrible to themselves and each other from the beginning, but even beyond that it builds slowly, almost imperceptibly, as you’re preoccupied by the drugs and typical 1980s Hollywood drama.
“People are afraid to merge on freeways in Los Angeles.”
What I Was Doing While You Were Breeding — Kristen Newman
I was told to read this memoir of sorts, which follows Newman’s world travels in between writing television shows in Los Angeles, during my trip to Argentina, because the book frequently features the country. Needless to say, I carried the book with me to Argentina and back and opened it maybe once, before finally finishing it over the summer. This memoir wasn’t the most typical of reads for me, but I still thoroughly enjoyed it. As someone entertainment-industry-adjacent but also as someone completely unlike Newman, this was a fun trip to different countries and experiences. Perhaps ironically some of my favorite chapters were the ones in Argentina, but if you’re looking for a laugh and an easy read, I can’t recommend What I Was Doing While You Were Breeding, enough.
“The first time I blew off steam internationally was not born of carpe diem.”
Music
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Music 〰️
This year continued like last, in that I kept listening to entire albums at once instead of playlists. Here’s what I had on repeat.
Sahar — Tamino
Genuinely, I don’t know how I neglected to put this album on last year’s list, considering it came out in September of 2022. Tamino has been a staple in my listening since I first found him in late high school, but with just one album out until this one (Amir, and it’s lovely), Sahar was long-awaited. Something about Tamino’s music is just soothing. His use of acoustic guitar on this album is beautiful (and absolutely entrancing when I saw him live this past April), and his vocal range (as exemplified by the song “Habibi” on his first album) is as breathtaking as ever. I love his distinct use of his Egyptian heritage in the sound of his music, and though this album feels different than the last, but still seems unmistakably like Tamino. Personal favorites include “Cinnamon” and “My Dearest Friend and Enemy.”
Long Lost — Lord Huron
Considering I’m not in the thick of my Orville-Peck-every-day-on-repeat phase anymore, I’m genuinely surprised this album only showed up on my radar this year. Long Lost (and Lord Huron) are not as strictly country as Orville, but they do lean that way, with this album in particular. The best way I can describe this album is atmospheric. With tracks like “(One Helluva Performer)” that sound like a radio broadcast, and others like “Twenty Long Years” that end with ambient/crowd noises as if the song was being performed in a bar, the energy of this album is undeniable, and makes it feel at times like a live recording, at other times like it was made to be put in a film soundtrack.
Sunburn — Dominic Fike
The jury’s back, and it’s official: Dominic Fike makes summer music. This album is banger after certified banger, unspeakably catchy, and so, so perfect for listening to in the car on a sunny July day with the windows down. This album is jumping into a pool, sitting under the shade of a tree, making a heirloom tomato salad. I couldn’t stop listening to “Dancing in the Courthouse” this past year, but I recommend the entire album, wholeheartedly.
Unreal Unearth — Hozier
I described this album to my friend Kaarina (who is studying abroad in Shanghai right now, and whom I miss ever so dearly) as middle school nostalgia. As in, listening to it for the first time gave me the same feeling that now listening to old Fall Out Boy albums do — but without the decade of living with the music in between. Hozier's always been a mastermind when it comes to both lyricism and musical composition, and I think he's on an entirely different level with this record. It's the kind of thing that had me playing it from the start as soon as I got to the end, the kind of thing so laced in meaning and metaphor that I felt the need to read Dante's "Inferno" after.
Something to Give Each Other — Troye Sivan
It’s almost hard to write about Troye Sivan; not because he is difficult, objectively, to talk about, but more that every time I do I find myself thinking back on how far he’s come since I was watching his YouTube videos in 2013. That said, this album is, to me, almost perfect (my biggest gripe is I wish it was longer). Sivan has always had strong pop roots, but this album in particular feels like he’s finally come into his own. The songs on Something to Give Each Other are distinctly his, from subtly devastating lyrics to the dance-ability of the beats. I remember loving the house-ish ending to “Take Yourself Home” from his 2020 EP Take Yourself Home, and it’s genuinely so cool to see how he’s evolved as an artist and leaned into a house and electronic sound. This album was meant to be blared at a club, but it works just as well to just listen to it out loud indoors.
Grace — Jeff Buckley
Tamino is often described as a Belgian or Egyptian Jeff Buckley, so it’s no wonder that the inspiration himself made this list. The entire world knows Buckley, if only for his rendition of “Hallelujah” which outsold Leonard Cohen’s original. That said, it took me until this year to actually sit down and listen to his original music with purpose, and as soon as I listened through Grace, it immediately stole a piece of my heart. Lyrically poetic, crooning, and with guitar riffs that just get stuck in your head, this album has everything. It’s beautifully arranged and rightfully frequently called ‘flawless.’
Television
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Television 〰️
Succession ended this year, leaving an expected but profound void in my television rotation. Between that show ending and the fact that most of the newer shows I watched were past their first seasons (thinking of The Bear, here, mostly), this year was more about discovering older shows.
Halt and Catch Fire
Who knew all it would take for me to watch a show about the tech industry/computer revolution would be Lee Pace headlining it? Honestly, despite the fact that I initially started this because of Pace (and I'm not ashamed of that fact), the story quickly drew me in. I feel mildly predisposed to both dislike and genuinely understand a lot of the intricacies of the tech industry having grown up in the Silicon Valley, but the drama of these interesting characters and their lives was undeniable; the show captures that ephemeral feeling when you know you're on the precipice of something enormous, something that will change history. I can't say I know that feeling firsthand, but I think Halt and Catch Fire portrays that energy exceptionally well.
True Detective
This is one of those "Prestige TV" shows that everyone endlessly recommends and I knew I'd like, but would take forever to get to. And I guess forever was a bit of an exaggeration, because I did manage to finally get to True Detective earlier this year. And boy, did it not disappoint. Well, the second season is definitely weird and I (amongst most others) prefer the first to the third, but this is still a phenomenally made show, from the writing to the performances to the gorgeous title sequences. I will say that I think I would only rewatch the first season, but I do still recommend them all with my whole heart. (Okay, maybe not season two. Sorry, Colin Farrell & Rachel McAdams).
Interview With The Vampire
This show had me at 'gay vampires,' forget the fact that it's based on the cult hit book series of the same name (which, I admit, I have not read). Listen, I could sit here and talk about the stunning production design, haunting music, or campy humor endlessly. I could talk about how significant it is that the show made explicit the implicit of the novel when it comes to the nature of Louis and Lestat's relationship, or that they made Louis a Black man and integrated the cultural significance of that choice so well into this pre-existing world and story. I could. But instead I will talk about Jacob Anderson's performance as Louis de Point du Lac. Jacob Anderson is British as all day, as one can hear within seconds of hearing him talk as himself. Yet he managed to absolutely nail the regional and time specific accent of his character. And listen, he's an actor, it's his job, yada yada — this man performed witchcraft with his performance, I'm convinced of it. He is so, so incredible in this role, and it is an absolute affront to all good things that he wasn't recognized for it with an Emmy nomination. I know awards aren't everything, but still. Go watch this show for his performance alone, it's worth it.
Film
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Film 〰️
This year's list might be shorter than last’s but the film section is still the longest. But, in the spirit of attempting to be succinct, I'm going to try for shorter descriptions of each film. As always, this is not a ranking, and instead is listed in the order I saw the films.
C’mon C’mon — Mike Mills (2021)
This film broke me and healed me all at once. It's a stunningly impressive blend of documentary and fiction, poignant but not in a try-hard way, and so well acted. This is a movie I recommend everyone, unanimously. I don't know a single person who wouldn't like it.
American Psycho — Mary Harron (2000)
I know many people who wouldn't like this, but this is my blog and I liked it. In a sense it's obvious. Of course I liked the film based on a novel by Bret Easton Ellis, who falls in a similar grouping to one of my other favorite authors, Chuck Palahniuk. I should have seen it coming, really. This film's a lot, but that's well-documented. Honestly I was surprised by how funny I actually found it. Can't say it's a crowd-pleaser, but I did have fun watching this the week before I started my internship in FiDi.
Babylon — Damien Chazelle (2022)
This film was so widely hated but frankly it just had too many elements that were built for me to love, for me to feel anything but good about it. The last sequence is the definition of sensory overload, but it just worked for me. It made me feel, and at the end of the day that's all I'm really looking for.
Fire of Love — Sara Dosa (2022)
No documentary has made me feel the way this one did. It is just so person-focused, so beautifully curated and sequenced. And I guess it doesn't hurt that I've been mesmerized by lava since I was a literal child. Just a beautiful and heartbreaking tale, and I couldn't recommend it enough.
Close — Lukas Dhont (2022)
Speaking of beautiful and heartbreaking, there's this film. I said this in my Letterboxd review, but I cried so hard watching this, I could feel my pulse in my teeth. I have never had that happen before. This didn't hit me in the same way Aftersun did last year (the story builds into the emotion here, whereas on a bad day Aftersun gets me just through a stray thought), but it is still so, so intensely effective.
A Hard Day’s Night — Richard Lester (1964)
Now this one really caught me off guard. Like, the Beatles movie starring The Beatles? How did I end up watching that on a Saturday night? This movie is, in a word, goofy. I think you have to be in a specific mood to enjoy it. But I was, and so I did, and I hope you do too.
Spider-Man: Across The Spider-Verse — Joaquim dos Santos, Justin K. Thompson, Kemp Powers (2023)
Stunning, in all aspects (except the overworking of the animators to get this film made). I can't wait for part two (though gladly will, and in good time in the aftermath of the strikes and so that the animators don't have to kill themselves for the art. It's never that deep, and the money's never worth it.)
Asteroid City — Wes Anderson (2023)
My first Wes Anderson in theatres! So, so lovely. I really was able to get invested in the story of this one, for the first time since The Grand Budapest hotel. Perfect performances, and directly-told but emotionally resonant stories at the heart of it all. Plus roadrunner! And a funky alien! I mean, what's not to love?
The Broken Hearts Club: A Romantic Comedy — Greg Berlanti (2000)
I always need to throw a curveball (no pun intended) in these lists, and here's this year's. I first learned of Greg Berlanti through Love, Simon (I get regularly clowned-upon for loving that film and will not be accepting any criticisms at this time, thankyouverymuch). This film is just heartwarming. There's no other word for it. Feel-good, rom-com, friend-group-dramedy. Plus some questionably-played community softball. Go watch it, every one of you.
Red, White, & Royal Blue — Matthew López (2023)
When I read this book three years ago I thought it would make an incredible film, so after the movie was announced/casted last year, I excitedly awaited its release. My thoughts on this film are complicated (and you can read them in depth in my post about it), but ultimately they boil down to me absolutely loving it. It's a cheesy, gooey, silly romantic comedy set to a background of politics, it features two lovely performances at its core, has questionable but book-accurate use of "Get Low" by Lil Jon, and is truly so enjoyable that each time I saw it (and it's been three times, now), I found myself staring at my computer screen with a big smile on my face.
Bottoms — Emma Seligman (2023)
Emma Seligman (and Rachel Sennott and Ayo Edebiri) are NYU royalty but that isn't what makes this film incredible. Bottoms is the return of the raunchy teen comedy we've all been waiting for. It's beautifully over the top, stunningly satirical, and so, so camp. Every performance shines in its own way, bringing these interesting characters to life amidst the chaos of the film itself. The pace never lets up but the film benefits from it — and honestly, at the end of the day, how can I not recommend a film with an Avril Lavigne needle drop in the middle of it?
Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead — Tom Stoppard (1990)
Nothing gets me like a good Shakespeare adaptation, and the concept alone of this film (two characters in Hamlet expressing their utter confusion at the events of their lives yet being unable to change their pre-written fates) reeled me in. Described as an existential tragicomedy, this film is an absolute hoot, and watching it, I frequently found myself sitting alone in my living room with a wide smile on my face.
Killers of the Flower Moon — Martin Scorsese (2023)
This movie is long, I know. I also know that I am frequently found claiming that films are too long nowadays. And while I, to some extent, stand by that statement, I also think that if a film that utilizes its entire runtime well, it doesn't matter how long it is. KOTFM is horrifying, beautifully told, and worth every minute of its three and a half hours. It’s a true privilege to be alive while Martin Scorsese is still making movies.
Priscilla — Sofia Coppola (2023)
2023 is Jacob Elordi's year. And while he's great in this film (rip Austin Butler getting stuck in the Elvis accent only for Elordi to effortlessly knock it out of the park a year later), this is more about Cailee Spaeny. Her performance is understated and frequently silent, but so, so effective. I express my thoughts better in my Letterboxd review (sorry for all the hyperlinks) but this film really got me. Sofia Coppola has proven herself once again, not that she really needed to with her track record.
The Sweet East — Sean Price Williams (2023)
I've said this before and I'll say it again: this was the strangest movie I've seen in a few years, and the strangest movie I've ever seen in a theatre. And I mean that as a compliment. A sort of observation of various extreme forms of American life, The Sweet East takes you on an unexpected but welcomed ride. Every performance feels real and unique in its own way (Ayo Edebiri again! Jacob Elordi again! Simon Rex!) but Talia Ryder carries in her leading role.
May December — Todd Haynes (2023)
This movie made me feel nauseous (not as much as Mysterious Skin did, but this really isn't a competition). Julianne Moore and Natalie Portman are legends, of course, but this is Charles Melton's film (honorable mention for Cory Michael Smith, though — an entrancingly tragic performance). Melton has the least screentime of the three leads, but the physicality of his performance is profound. From his tone of voice to simply the way he stands, he is the beating heart of this film which frequently borders into melodrama.
The Holdovers — Alexander Payne (2023)
In a word, The Holdovers is heartwarming. Although it could never take the place in my heart of New England wintery classics like Dead Poets Society, this film emulates a similar feeling and is absolutely accomplished in its own right, almost entirely due to the magic of its performances from its three leads. This is the kind of film to watch on a rainy day (California winters, what can I say) with a mug of cocoa, bundled under a blanket. It’s funny, tragic, and so kind to both its characters and its audience. If you haven’t seen this film already, save it for the holiday season, it’s worth it.
The Iron Claw — Sean Durkin (2023)
I dragged my entire family to see this film the day after Christmas only for them to unanimously tell me upon exiting the theatre that it was the saddest movie they’ve ever seen. And you know what? I can’t even blame them. The Iron Claw is immensely sad (though somehow not as sad as the true story it’s based on), but is put together with so much care that even amidst the difficulty of the story, you can’t help but be rapt by what’s happening on screen. Zac Efron is a phenomenal lead in this absolute powerhouse of an ensemble cast, and even though this film is undeniably tragic, I think everyone should see it.
Anyone But You — Will Gluck (2023)
Look, I really debated whether this film should make the cut here or below in the extended list, but I just had such a wonderful time watching it that I couldn’t not include it. I saw Anyone But You on New Year’s Eve with two of my favorite people. The excitingness of that situation notwithstanding, I, despite the actual nature of this film and despite myself, laughed so much in the theatre. I don’t really mean this in a mean way, but this is not a good movie. Sydney Sweeney has acted better, and Glen Powell was charming as always but still not at his best, and the story could be cleaner in some areas and deeper in others. But something about the absolute absurdity of the Shakespeare references (oh yeah, this is a (very very loose) adaptation), the only-occasionally believable banter between the leads, and the general silliness of the film as a whole just got me. I don’t know if this would hold up on a rewatch, but it was an incredible way to end 2023.
EVEN MORE MOVIES…
Swiss Army Man (2016), dir. Daniels
The Birdcage (1996), dir. Mike Nichols
Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves (2023), dir. John Francis Daley, Jonathan Goldstein
Detachment (2011), dir. Tony Kaye
The Line (2023), dir. Ethan Berger
Nimona (2023), dir. Troy Quane, Nick Bruno
Donnie Darko (2001), dir. Richard Kelly
Humboldt County (2008), dir. Darren Grodsky, Danny Jacobs
Cinema Paradiso (1988), dir. Giuseppe Tornatore
Theater Camp (2023), dir. Molly Gordon, Nick Lieberman
The Virgin Suicides (1999), dir. Sofia Coppola
Sueño en otro idioma (2017), dir. Ernesto Contreras
Moonstruck (1987), dir. Norman Jewison
Rye Lane (2023), dir. Raine Allen-Miller
* I loved all of these, but my favorites are highlighted
That’s All, Folks!
Between actually reading a book a month this year (when averaged out, but that’s irrelevant) and seeing the most movies in theatres that I have in my entire life (twenty-six!), it was quite a feat distilling my favorites from this year into a single post. Although I’m now writing in other places beyond this blog (find me on Medium and Periphery Magazine!), this list is steadfast, and is one of my favorite things to put together each year. Happy New Year, y’all, and see you between the trees this year. Here’s looking forward to another leap year, another Olympics, and the long-awaited release on my part of Jeff Nichol’s The Bikeriders (rest in pieces the original release date on my birthday 🥲).