Top 10 Film Performances of 2023
From Noah Galvin's surprising comedic chops to Emma Stone's glorious take on a Frankenstein-ish heroine.
Hello! My name is Abiye. I thought I’d try this substack thing out after reading a couple. I like to talk about films, music, actors, and literature. I can’t promise consistent updates, but I’d still like to give it a whirl.
Instead of doing an introductory post, I thought the best way to get to know me was for me to simply start talking about the things that I liked, and a “best performances” list is the perfect place to begin. After reading The Hollywood Reporter’s article on the year’s best performances, I pushed myself into making my own. Please note that everything here is my opinion, and if a performance you liked isn’t here, that doesn’t mean I didn’t like it. I might not have even seen it!
In fact, let’s list those performances right now: Kōji Yakusho in Wim Wenders’ Perfect Days, Kore-eda’s Monster, Andrew Haigh’s All of Us Strangers, The Holdovers, The Color Purple, Mann’s Ferrari, and plenty others.
Without further ado, let’s start….
Honorable Mentions
Before we get to the actual picks, I’ll name some performances that didn’t quite make it into my top 10, but were too good not to recognize.
In Christian Petzold’s Afire, German actress and frequent Petzold collaborator Paula Beer is mesmerizing as Nadja, the mysterious woman staying the summer in a vacation home, unbeknownst to a writer, Leon (Thomas Schubert) and his friend, Felix (Langston Uibel), who are also staying there. While watching, I was immediately struck by Beer’s naturalism and inherent charm, the perfect foil to Schubert’s Leon, who is at mildest, a sourpuss, and at worst, fucking insufferable. As Nadja is seen entirely through Leon’s self-centered lens, she doesn’t receive much in the form of character development, but Beer gracefully manages to dance around this problem, filling in gaps where she can. Ben Whishaw is given a similar task in his portrayal of Martin in Ira Sachs’ Passages. He too is playing opposite a destructively self-involved man - an equally amazing Franz Rogowski as Martin’s husband, Tomas - though Sachs gives Martin a tad more to do. He, like the film around him, is funny, heartbreaking, and sexy (that’s the most I’ll say about the sex scene). The moment that particularly stands out is Whishaw’s final scene, when Martin officially ends his relationship with Tomas. It’s cathartic after 80 minutes of Martin being mistreated by his toxic lover.
While Beer and Whishaw have unfortunately gone under the radar this awards’ season, these next three performances have been widely hailed as some of the best of the year, and have each been deservedly recognized (or are likely to be recognized) by a major awards body. Zac Efron’s heartbreaking performance as Kevin von Erich in Sean Durkin’s The Iron Claw (in theaters now, courtesy of A24) easily marks a career-best for the actor. Lily Gladstone also gives a tear-jerking, beautiful turn as Mollie Burkhart in Scorsese’s beloved Killers of the Flower Moon. While the film has been criticized for not giving Gladstone as much attention as her co-star, Leonardo DiCaprio (a criticism I agree with), she dominates every scene she is in. Her quiet but impactful take on Mollie provides the emotional core of the film. I can’t get her last scene with Ernest (DiCaprio) out of my head as she demands he tell her the truth about the “insulin” he had been giving her, her calm demeanor concealing a bubbling rage as he lies right to her face. It’s haunting, and all the hype that’s surrounded her (as of the time of me writing this, she’s the front runner for the Golden Globe for Best Actress in a Drama) is entirely warranted. Lastly, Cailee Spaeny’s brilliant take on Priscilla Presley in Sofia Coppola’s Priscilla. Spaeny is given the difficult task of portraying Priscilla’s growth over the course of 13 years; from when she’s 14 to when she’s 27. She gives Priscilla several tics that she sheds as she grows; the subtle differences in the ways she carries herself, the ways she wears her clothes, her wigs, her makeup. Coppola’s script doesn’t give her a lot to say, but for Spaeny, those empty spaces are strengths. A microscopic gesture conveys a world of meaning better than any words could do.
10. Tilda Swinton - The Killer (dir. David Fincher)
Perhaps a silly pick, but I haven’t been able to get Swinton’s (very) brief performance in Fincher’s The Killer out of my head. If you haven’t seen it yet, the film follows an assassin as he grapples with the toll his profession takes on him, while also trying to seek revenge after the fallout of a killing-gone-wrong. I wasn’t hugely receptive to the film as a whole, but Swinton’s single scene as The Expert stood out to me when I first watched it, and has only gotten better to me since. She succinctly delivers the entire thesis of the film in this one scene, reading the titular Killer like a book. All the while, she’s also stalling for time, trying to find a way out of her imminent death. The most memorable and widely lauded part of the scene is a joke she tells about a hunter and a grizzly bear (it’s hilarious), but I’d also like to shout out her line reading when she drunkenly slurs, “When your time does arrive, it won’t be your life flashing before your eyes. It’ll be mine.” I will say though, this is probably light work for one of the greatest to ever do it.
9. Vivian Oparah - Rye Lane (dir. Raine Allen-Miller)
I adored Raine Allen-Miller’s Rye Lane. It’s a modern rom-com done right; joyous, easy to watch, cheesy when needed. Oparah (who’s just celebrated a birthday at the time of writing this btw, so happy birthday) is wonderful as the film’s co-lead. She’s effervescent, funny… I want to say quirky? I’m not sure if that word still has a negative connotation attached to it. I digress, she anchors the film. Charming and likable, by the end of the breezy 82 minute runtime, it’s only natural to beam when she gets the guy. Of course it’d be impossible to praise her without giving some love to her screen partner, David Jonsson, who is the yin to her yang. For those of you maligning the “death of the rom-com”, watch Rye Lane! Then rewatch it. And keep rewatching it. This should be a classic in the making. And Oparah should be a star in the making.
8. Noah Galvin - Theater Camp (dir. Molly Gordon and Nick Lieberman)
I don’t think I’ve ever been more shocked while watching a movie this year. Galvin (also co-writer and producer) starts out as a mildly funny side-player in a cast bursting with exciting new talent. His gags, while funny, never elicited the same laughs as, say, Patti Harrison’s nefarious business woman Caroline Krauss, or Molly Gordon’s doe-eyed Rebecca-Diane. And then, in a third act twist, he runs away with the entire movie. I won’t spoil it for those who haven’t seen it, but it’s glorious to say the least. The film is an ode to the theater, a space where people swept to the sidelines (i.e., queer kids, artistic kids) could break out of their shells. Galvin’s character and performance is the perfect embodiment of exactly that.
7. The Central Trio of May December (dir. Todd Haynes)
Kind of a cop-out but I couldn’t select just one of them. In a film that conducts an almost academic study of performance, and thus hinges on performance, the three at the center quite literally understand the assignment. Julianne Moore’s bombastic sobbing and carefully employed vocal affectations (THE LISP) that alter depending on who she’s talking to, Natalie Portman’s manipulative overly-nice demeanor that breaks down the more she prods into the lives of Gracie and Joe, and of course Charles Melton’s hunched posture, mild stutter, and nervous smiles around women he’s attracted to (as well as other teenage boy-isms) that reveal a stunted growth, directly contradicting Joe’s insistence that his relationship with Gracie is harmless. Each of these actors are performing as performers in some way, though to different degrees of awareness. A challenging task that Moore, Portman, and Melton rise to tremendously.
6. Zar Amir Ebrahimi - Shayda (dir. Noora Niasari)
It is such a shame that this film has fallen so under the radar. Niagara’s semi-autobiographical debut follows an Iranian mother (Ebrahimi as the titular Shayda) trying to rebuild her and her daughter’s lives after escaping from an abusive husband. Ebrahimi is a force, balancing a mother trying to put on a strong front for her daughter while dealing with a PTSD and lingering fear from the terror inflicted upon her by her soon-to-be ex-husband. Her attempts to create a sense of normalcy and calm in the face of it all are heart-wrenching. I was on the verge of tears for basically the entire runtime, but specifically during the scenes between her and her screen daughter (Selina Zahednia as Mona) in the Australian women’s center they live in. Hopefully this film will be released wide soon, so that you all can witness Ebrahimi’s excellence.
5. Rachel McAdams - Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret. (dir. Kelly Fremon Craig)
It’s just now while writing that I’ve begun to notice the parallels between Ebrahimi’s performance in Shayda and McAdams’ performance in Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret. They are both playing women trying to adjust to new environments and mothers trying to explain difficult situations to their daughters. In this case, the situation is far less fraught, but still devastating - Barbara’s (McAdams) estrangement from her Christian parents, who disowned her after she married a Jewish man. Though she tries to never show it in front of Margaret (her daughter played by Abby Ryder Fortson), the weight of her issues gets to her. McAdams perfectly captures these aspects Barbara. She is warm and earnest and sad but also frequently very funny in what is sneakily one of the year’s best.
4. Emma Stone - Poor Things (dir. Yorgos Lanthimos)
Much has been written about Emma Stone’s balls to the wall performance in the gothic science fantasy film Poor Things, I doubt that there is anything more I could contribute. She is demented, brave, and brilliant as Bella Baxter. Stone’s physicality is especially commendable, as she is tasked with very literally creating Bella from complete scratch. She has to be malleable, constantly and subtly changing. Her sharp movements and stilted waddles as Bella is developing her motor functions transform into graceful strides. The use of her signature vocal fry when she’s imitating the voice of a child vs. when she’s speaking as a well-read adult. The choices Stone makes here are risky, and if the actress behind them wasn’t completely game, they could come off as parody. But Stone embraces the ridiculousness, the foolishness, the (very explicit) sexuality. She allows herself to be absolutely free with wide-eyed curiosity and no shame.
3. Teo Yoo - Past Lives (dir. Celine Song)
I’ve thought about Teo Yoo’s performance in Past Lives since I saw the film. The restraint he brings to Hae Sung broke me. The barely contained excitement in his eyes when he sees Nora, and then the barely contained sorrow when he realizes that this is very likely the last time… god. Let’s move on.
2. Tia Nomore - Earth Mama (dir. Savanah Leaf)
Learning that Oakland-borne rapper and actress Tia Nomore drew so much inspiration from her own life to craft her performance as Gia in Savanah Leaf’s Earth Mama didn’t surprise me. She’s so real as Gia, for lack of a better term (trust me, I tried to find one). Nomore has stated that her own trials and tribulations with motherhood, as well as her work as a doula, helped her navigate the character. She approaches the material with so much empathy and grace, and without any performative Hollywood-actorly sensibilities. Her scenes with Erika Alexander (Miss Carmen) are especially great. With Miss Carmen, Gia speaks openly and sheds her put-on stoicism, which she uses as a shield when dealing with the oppressive foster care system and a judgmental best friend. Nomore walks the tightrope between these two sides of Gia elegantly, and with such vulnerability. An excellent portrayal, especially considering this is Nomore’s first ever performance.
1. Sandra Hüller and Milo Machado Graner - Anatomy of a Fall (dir. Justine Triet)
Another cop out, but alas. What can be done? By far the two performances that stuck with me the most this year, and among my favorite of the decade so far. Hüller and Graner play mother and son in this murder mystery/courtroom drama -(not the best description, but if I had to place the film in a box, that would be it). The film follows Hüller’s character, also named Sandra, who is accused of murdering her husband by pushing him out of a window. The details surrounding the case are sparse, with no concrete evidence supporting either conclusion. So, rather than investigating the murder, the court investigates her marriage, so as to excavate some motive. Sandra is hounded, her every action, word, and breath called into question and used against her, down to her mother tongue. The thinly veiled misogyny and biphobia levied against her makes it hard to watch, even not knowing, as an audience, whether this woman is guilty or innocent (personally I’m #TeamSandraIsInnocent, but if she did do it, I can’t blame her). Triet has stated that she instructed Hüller to play Sandra as true, and so she does. But she always leaves room for a slither of doubt to creep through, specifically behind the eyes. What she’s feeling is inscrutable. Of course this poses a serious problem for Daniel, as his decision to believe or not believe his mother could sway the result of the trial. He is at a crossroads, and no one’s making it easy. Additionally, his blindness causes the prosecuting party and judge to subconsciously take him less seriously, another hurdle Graner must overcome. Graner navigates Daniel's fragility like a seasoned thespian, adding some warmth to a very cold film.
Scene of the year.