Today I'm picking ten movies scenes that made me laugh, cry and fist pump from 2025.
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2025 featured a year of inspired scenes that ranged from hilarious to mind blowing, sometimes in some of the year's best films, and sometimes as notable highlights in otherwise middling flicks.
So today I'm picking ten of my favorite scenes from 2025, minus the action beats, which have their own list, that inspired, made me laugh or moved me. *SPOILERS AHEAD* Starting with....
Fighting the Void from Thunderbolts*
Almost every superhero movie ends with our hero or heroes confronting the villain. They beat them in a fight or outsmart them and save the day. It's a battle of ideas and wills with our heroes aiming to come out on top. But what do you do when your villain is...the abyss inside all of us. Or in this case, manifestation of that emptiness that just so happens to be inside the unassuming Bob called "The Void." As Letterkenny taught me, you get right in there with him.
There's a lot that makes this scene so effective. How it undercuts the heroic action climax mere minutes earlier. How it applies dream logic visuals in a way Marvel has never embraced them before.
But what I really love about is that it does what so many great comics do: it takes the metaphorical and makes it literal.
To bring Bob back and defeat The Void, the hastily put together team of Thunderbolts don't run from the darkness they find Bob in it. Support him. Fight through every obstacle his darkness throws at them, whether it's their own worst nightmares or collapsing psyches. To...embrace him. Make him feel seen. Loved. Appreciated. Like he's worth something. Because every single one of these would-be heroes wants the same thing.
And that's what saves the day. The literal power of friendship via a group hug unsurps the villain and sends the void to the void. Because Bob doesn't need to be a superhero for them. He's enough as Bob.
"It's All Coming Back to Me Now" from Borderline
2025 was a great year for giant musical swings in your genre movie (see Sinners), but in terms of sheer "are they really doing this right now?" absurdist fun, this one is hard to beat.
Well into her stalker Paul's abduction, Samara Weaving's 90s pop star, Sofia Minor is beset upon by Paul's chaotic and French-accented ally Penny who first strikes down Sofia's date and then...as if it's nothing, wordlessly invites Sofia to join her in a duet of Celine Dion's classic "It's All Coming Back to Me Now,"...by singing the first line herself.
Sofia reluctantly joins in as the pair begin belting out the ballad to the rafters, while Sofia's date Rhodes, and the audience, look on in disbelief. Both because of the unexpected duet, but also because...they sound amazing.
Soon the duo are bathed in stereotypical music video overhead lighting as they blaze through the classic song with shared enthusiasm.
Only for the movie to quickly cut back to Paul who's holding folks hostage for his wedding and then back to the women's duet...before just as abruptly ending things with a literal sour note that spins into a pitched fight between Sofia and Penny.
It's a diversion for sure, but exactly the kind of absurdist fun for the sake of it flourishes I love to see.
Garraty's Choice from The Long Walk
The Long Walk is the best bad time I had watching a movie this year as we watch a collection of young men bond, walk and try to win the winner take all contest in their dystopian version of America. And finally after a harrowing journey where they've watched new friends and strangers be killed off one by one, it's down to Ray Garraty and his new friend Pete McVries.
By this point, we know their motivations. Pete wants to spend his winnings to help abandoned kids like himself, but also plans to walk until he's content to stop. Whereas Ray wants to win so he can get a carbine and kill The Major, the man who killed his father.
Or does he? After some enlightening words from Pete, Ray realizes how foolish his hate-driven decision was and has already tearfully apologized to his mother for doing the same thing his father did. Barrelling into a violent confrontation without thinking.
So when Pete decides to sit down, handing the Ray the win, Ray doesn't accept it. He pulls Pete up and tells him that he's his brother and that they need to keep walking together. Reluctantly Pete stands up and walks...as Ray sits down.
It seems like a jarring choice considering the circumstances. How alone Pete is. Ray's tearful mother we've already seen twice. The pain it will cause Pete.
But it made perfect sense to me. After being driven by hate for most of his journey, Ray sits down out of love. So his new friend and brother can live and make the world a better place. So the man that saved his life countless times over the past few days can stay alive. So he can show Pete he took his lesson to heart.
That's why, despite Pete's tearful cries of anguish, Ray is at peace. Because he chose to make his final act an act of sacrifice and love, and because his friend will live.
A perfect culmination of the beating humanist core that makes this movie so impactful.
Flirting Across the Gorge from The Gorge
This section of this movie is so charming, it makes a bunch of sci-fi monsters showing up feel like a bummer. The film places Miles Teller's Levi and Anya Taylor-Joy's Strasa on opposing ends of the titular gorge where they're told to keep a lookout and use their impressive sniper skills to keep whoever or whatever is down there at bay for a year. And don't make contact with the other side.
A rule they break rather quickly as they begin to bond via an ever so charming series of white board messages, games, and trick shots.
The entire montage has the feeling of a forbidden romance or rom-com but with high caliber rounds as part of the game as they trade jokes and stories, play games or show exactly how skilled they are. Each interaction bringing the romantic tension to a boiling point where someone is going to finally do the unthinkable and bridge the literal and metaphorical gap between them.
The chemistry between Teller and Taylor-Joy and especially Taylor-Joy's charisma is so infectious that you just might forget that there's something awful in the mist below them.
But more than anything, it's a reminder that romance in a high concept genre movie like this doesn't have to be an obligatory add-on. Done right it can be the core appeal of your entire movie.
Stakeout from Weapons
The description of this scene sounds like it should be a crime drama, not a horror film. A highly scrutinized teacher, Julia Garner's Justine Gandy, decides to stake out the house of her former student to piece together what the hell happened to his classmates and the rest of her students. She parks across the street and begins to watch a door, but as night falls she falls asleep.
That anticipation is exactly what writer/director Zach Cregger uses to turn the screws on the audience as we finally see a figure exit the door.
In a masterfully edited scene, the shot stays on the doorway as an unsettling woman staggers out of the home carrying a pair of scissors...that appear to have blood on them, and moves very very slowly towards Gandy's car while she's none the wiser. Only to cut to inside Gandy's car once the woman approaches, leaving the audience to wonder what comes next.
It's also exactly how you'd expect a slasher scene to go, with Gandy seemingly primed to meet an untimely death at the business end of those scissors. Which is why the figure's choice to cut a piece of Gandy's hair and take it with them somehow more chilling.
Just a masterful manipulation of expectations that fits both a crucial story function (this does come back) while also confounding and chilling the audience to the bone.
Body Cam footage from The Naked Gun
The new Naked Gun rightly abides by the "4 jokes a minute" pace of the Leslie Nielsen originals for almost it's entire run time, while also piecing together a number of hilarious extended gags. Some highlights include Pamela Anderson's absurdist scatting, a great hat on a hat parody of the Mission Impossible franchise and Frank tearing through some technically enraged citizens with the clips from his firearms. But my absolute favorite has to be the bodycam footage interrogation with Busta Rhymes.
What's meant to be a damning piece of footage placing Rhymes criminal at a recent heist, quickly becomes an indictment of Frank's ill-advised dietary choices once they look at the body cam footage.
So now the audience and Rhymes grow increasingly dismayed as we see Frank wolf down a chili dog that immediately disagrees with him and forces him to find the nearest restroom...at a school. All with Neeson grimly recounting his discomfort as the chili dog exploded his insides with the same gravel he'd be talking about a drug deal gone wrong with a line that killed the entire theater I was in "I had five more that day..."
A perfect encapsulation of The Naked Gun's sincere dedication to childish silliness.
A Phone Call with Louise from Wake Up Dead Man
Well into Rian Johnson's latest Knives Out mystery, Daniel Craig's Benoit Blac and his compatriot, Josh O'Connor's Father Jud, comes across an intriguing piece of the puzzle. Someone ordered construction on the nearby mausoleum before anyone died. Eager for the next clue, Jud calls up the construction company and is greeted by Bridget Everrett's Louise. After a roundabout conversation where Jud and Louise misunderstand one another, that's definitely played for laughs, Louise quickly pivots and asks the priest for a favor: can you pray for my mom?
And from here the pacing and tone drastically change as Jud instantly recognizes someone in need of comfort and ever so gently, asks Louise what's wrong. And Louise opens up. Tells Father Jud that her mom is sick in hospice and how hard it's been to be around and communicate with her and how poorly their last interaction went. In an instant the urgency to get the next answer, at least from Father's Jud perspective, is gone as he removes himself the records room to continue the conversation with Louise.
A conversation so long, the time of day changes as Benoit Blanc is left sitting perturbed and bored. When he finally does leave the room he comes out to Father Jud, praying with Louise and her mother over the phone, offering up his phone in case anything happens at any time.
It's a masterful pivot, not just because of Everett's extensive background as a comedic actor and standup (and we already got some funny banter to start), but also because it provides an example of the faith Father Jud wants to convey to his flock. A shoulder to cry on and pillar of strength in their hour of need. A salve for their pain. Not a solution, but a way to offer comfort in a cruel world.
Jud later describes this as his "Road to Damascus" moment where he remembers what his real purpose is. Not to clear his name, but to offer support and comfort to his parish, the way the murdered Monsignor Wicks never did. And while he cannot comprehend Jud's outlook in the moment, or faith at all, this is a message that sticks with Benoit Blanc when he approaches his "final checkmate," in the finale.
Bob and Sensei from One Battle After Another
About halfway through Paul Thomas Anderson's latest epic, our burnout dad Bob is on the run from Sean Penn's murderous Col. Lockjaw and desperate to find his daughter. The man he turns to is Sensei Sergio St. Carlos, played by a charming as ever Benicio del Toro who not only guides Bob to the resources he needs and does his damnedest to direct him to his daughter (and Sensei's student), but also guides a host of immigrant families in his community to safety amidst a militarized raid on his neighborhood.
This is where Paul Thomas Anderson's direction shines through as he both maintains the tension as he uses long takes to witness Sensei's preparations for the raid, quick transitions to the on the ground clashes between protestors, police and military occurring outside, Bob's infuriated attempts to contact his old allies and locate his daughter and then the tactical team looking to find the women and children Sensei is protecting.
In the center of it is del Toro's Sensei who is...the eye of the hurricane. Unflappable. Decisive. At ease. Directing his people about where they need to go and what they need to do, while also providing emotional support to Bob with a beer to take the edge of (and one for himself) and even a tepid repetition of Bob's gripes, even as men with machine guns approach his door. If he's improvising, you'd never be able to tell.
Meanwhile Di Caprio's Bob is so caught up trying to get past a code word that he doesn't even realize he's in the middle of warzone.
It's a fantastic juxtaposition, and apt metaphor for the priorities of those without power, as the former thrill-seeker and revolutionary loses his shit over what looks and feels like a customer service call as a man who's actually on the ground, resists against authoritarian overreach by helping Bob and the most vulnerable members of his community without a hint of desperation.
All punctuated with Sensei's perfectly timed exit as the jack boots climb his stairs and Bob's massive misfire that lands him in police custody...for now.
Saying Goodbye from 28 Years Later
Danny Boyle's zombie franchise is defined by intensity. Intense action, intense zombies, intense zombie dongs and intense camera work. Which also means that its pensive and emotional moments can devastate and inspire in equal measure.
After a difficult journey to find Ralph Fiennes' seemingly insane Dr. Ian Kelson, young Spike and his mother Isla (devastatingly played by Jodie Comer) finally get the diagnosis they've been dreading: Isla has a brain tumor and there's nothing Dr. Kelson can do.
As night falls, Isla asks Kelson a favor: to end her life before she deteriorates even further. With Spike fast asleep, Isla and Kelson take a quiet journey into the woods together as Kelson performs a painless mercy killing off-screen. When Spike awakes, Kelson, in his own way, tells Spike what happened and offers his mother's skull to him to place upon his memento mori memorial. Spike picks the very top of the massive tribute, and Kelson agrees it's a perfect place.
All while the sparks and fires circle around Spike like his mother's presence enveloping him and assuring him that she is at peace and he's going to be ok.
From a story standpoint this is Spike's actual coming-of-age vs. the violent hunt his father Jamie tried to force upon him (while also ignoring Isla worsening medical condition). Facing down mortality and loss not with fear but with the warmth and the comfort of an unexpected father figure.
Visually this is the most poetic and warm the franchise has ever been. Eschewing any semblance of cynicism to find beauty in tragedy, love in loss, and life in death.
"I Lied To You" from Sinners
Before I saw Sinners a friend gushed to me about "the scene." When I inquired what scene she was referring to, she confidently said "you'll know it when you see it." She was a hundred percent correct.
While Ryan Coogler's genre-hybrid is full of absurd levels of technical prowess including Michael B. Jordan's dual roles as the Smoke Stack Twins, nothing else I watched this year came close to the experience of watching this scene.
After previewing his musical capabilities for much of the film, Miles Caton's Sammie gets his chance to shine for Smoke and Stack's jukejoint using a song to tell the crowd who he is. A preacher boy who loves the blues. Who loves to play and sing the blues. But the catchy tune and Caton's soulful voice are just the start as Sammie's song appears to "pierce the veil between life and death, conjuring spirits from the past and future," as Annie says.
Soon Sammie's song is transporting and transforming the juke joint into a time machine and melting pot of musical culture as we see and hear glimpses of guitar gods, hip-hop, African drumming all with Sammie's blues riff as the baseline, as the camera and song weave in and out of time, culture and musicians past and present. Without a single cut.
A singular experience of what the truest music feels like. Songs and sounds that feel like they've always existed. A part of a larger musical tapestry.
It's a feat that requires everyone to be firing an all cylinders including another Oscar-worthy moment of music from Ludwig Jorgensson, Coogler's technical mastery to maintain the tracking shot as it brings in and removes new players and even the entire juke joint, before panning out to reveal the evil Sammie's playing has attracted.
It's also a blast of creativity and non-linear expression that mainstream filmmaking has been missing for far too long.
It's been my scene of the year since I've seen it. And nothing came close to unseating it.
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