It’s hard to try and sum up 2022 in any meaningful way aside from saying that, like every other year for the last however many years, it was a lot. And come to think of it, that applies to some of the best things I discovered this year too.
What would it be like to regard Everything Everywhere All at Once without the hype train that followed in its wake, all the way up to this year’s Oscars? Well, let me tell you. Because the experience of watching it in the June of 2022 (not once but twice in the span of two days) remains one of those hyper vivid, ultra real moments of total movie magic. Granted, it’s no longer the Weird Little Indie That Could that it was at the time of its release, but Everything Everywhere is still an astonishing and altogether special accomplishment. As it turned out, there was another film from 2022 that evoked a similar sense of euphoria: Jackass Forever. Which makes sense when you think about it, given that it also traffics in gloriously juvenile antics patched together with deepfelt emotion.
Now, there’s no appropriate segue from Jackass Forever to Tár that makes the least bit of sense, except perhaps for its totally audacious ending, which left me equally giddy. Everything leading up to it was cold and austere, richly textured and surgically precise, which probably made its ending feel even more surprising: I couldn’t help but laugh, more in amazement than anything else. Months later, I still don’t know exactly what to make of it. All I know is that, quite like Jackass Forever, whatever Todd Field is doing in Tár, is very much my jam (look, there was absolutely no need to compare the two—I just wanted to have them both in the same sentence again).
A good year for movies, then—but an even better one for television. Like every TV critic out there, I can’t shut up about The Bear. The thing I keep coming back to is its pilot episode’s opening sequence, how it felt like it had found a new language, like punk made television. Everything about it was just *chef’s kiss.* Severance pulled off a similar triumph in making a show that was so uniquely its own thing right out of the gate. There were the mysteries, yes, so many questions, but what it did above all else was thoroughly plumb the implications of its ingenious premise, while making you care deeply about each of its characters and their dilemmas. It goes without saying that I can’t wait for where they go next.
And then there were the shows I discovered last year that were totally out of time. A random Letterboxd review (shoutout to a real one) led me to Nirvanna the Band the Show. Which I’m not even going to try and fail at describing. There’s probably only a handful of people for whom this deeply, deeply weird and wonderful show is for, but if you happen to be one of them, man, you’re in for something special. Speaking of weird and wonderful, I finally got around to watching Nathan For You and, well, I couldn’t stop until I devoured all four seasons. I have nothing remotely original to say about Nathan Fielder that hasn’t been said already, but I will say this: I think the reason everyone that watches it feels weirdly protective of this strange little man is because he is basically our inner child, our shadow manifested on a TV screen (shoutout to Barry Michaels and er, Jung, I guess).
A Youtube sneaker show and a menswear newsletter: normally these two things would be out of place in a more traditional year end review, but here they sync up nicely. I binged tons of episodes of Full Size Run, the universe’s best sneaker show, during an especially stressful month. But the show was equally fun all year round (waiting for Season 16 as we speak). And I was lucky to discover Blackbird Spyplane, the profoundly blessed and popping menswear newsletter, a totally hilarious, extremely original treat. Make sure to sign up if you’re not already on the global Spyplane community.
And now for some deep thoughts on what these all mean. Just kidding, I’ve refrained from trying to analyse any of this in previous editions, so I won’t start now. But one thing that strikes me is that what this (and previous Years in Review here and here and here) really is, more than anything else, is a catalog of delight. Which is a worthwhile project, I think. And something worth tending to, even almost half a year into 2023, as it were. If there’s one thing I can guarantee, it’s that if you do see one of these again, it will be reliably late, sometime deep into 2024. You have my word.