Swampflix’s Top 10 Films of 2025

1. Sinners — A truly American horror story: a beer & blues-fueled gangsters vs ghouls battle set against endless fields of cotton and all the commodified evil they represent. This is the movie that brought non-movie people out to the movies last year. There’s usually at least one, but they rarely become such a full-blown cultural phenomenon.

2. Marty SupremeJosh Safdie’s ping-pong hustling saga is remarkably deranged for a sports drama, overloaded with an even more remarkable collection of vintage New Yawk accents & faces to scowl at our incorrigible antihero. The audience scowls too, while we struggle with our simultaneous desires to see Marty succeed and to watch him fail, miserably.

3. The Phoenician Scheme Its violence is Looney Tunes, its business negotiations are Three Stooges, its religious visions are Ingmar Bergman, and yet you could not mistake a single frame of The Phoenician Scheme for any other director’s work. It’s another superb outing from Wes Anderson, who’s been sinking three-pointers at an incredible rhythm lately.

4. Eephus A slow-paced, aimless movie that feels like watching a sub-professional baseball game in real time … except that every single dialogue exchange & character detail is either deeply charming, riotously funny, or both. The film takes its title from a type of curveball that supposedly floats through the air in a way that makes it seem as if time is standing still. The game it stages also plays out over an impossibly long time, an eephus hovering in the air while everyone hopes it will never end.

5. One Battle After Another 2023’s How to Blow Up a Pipeline presented a rudimentary prototype for a kind of politically daring Hollywood blockbuster that a major studio would never actually touch, and then one of the last few standing put some real money behind making the real thing (before promptly being chopped up and sold for parts). After so many years of Hollywood studio action spectacle getting lost in the CG/IP wilderness, it’s encouraging to know the medium can still be thrilling & meaningful when the funding flows to the right people.

6. The Ugly Stepsister A gnarly body-horror revision of the Cinderella story, now about the madness induced by the never-ending scam of self-improvement through cosmetics. It’s one of many recent revisionist fairy tales that rehabilitate a famous “villain” who isn’t really a villain but a victim of circumstance. This particular one’s a cautionary tale about how “changing your outside to match your insides” isn’t always the best idea, not if you’re willing to allow your insides to become monstrous in the process (and, by extension, about the dangers of tapeworm-based weight loss).

7. The Plague A coming-of-age nightmare drama about hazing rituals at a children’s water polo summer camp. It might not fully qualify as Horror proper, but it comfortably belongs in a social-anxiety horror canon among titles like Eighth Grade, The Fits, and Raw. Possibly the most painfully poignant film about boyhood bullying we’ve ever seen.

8. No Other Choice Park Chan-Wook returns with another spectacular revenge thriller, except this time the antihero lead can’t actually fight the thing that’s wronged him. You can’t push capitalism off a cliff, you can’t lure layoffs into a torture dungeon, and you can’t force commercialism to cut out its tongue. So, he convinces himself that he has no other choice but to kill his fellow workers while competing for jobs, losing sight of the real enemy. Our relentlessly mundane & degrading corporate hellscape knows no borders nor mercy. Someone ought to do something about it … just preferably someone smarter & nobler than this guy.

9. Boys Go to Jupiter Cozy slacker art that plays like a D.I.Y. video game set in Steven Universe‘s Beach City, illustrating the listless ennui of unoccupied time between childhood school sessions and the grueling machinery of gig-economy desperation. Overflowing with killer music, adorable animation, and quietly hilarious characters, its Floridian otherworld is politically grim, but hanging out there feels like getting a foot massage while digesting an edible.

10. Rats!A pop-punk breakfast cereal commercial molding in rotten milk. Rats! follows in a long tradition of no-budget Texan slacker art, but it’s doubtful any other post-Linklater buttscratchers have ever been this exceedingly gross or this truly anarchic. It’s a singular vision, if not only because none of its peers would think to extrude poop directly onto the lens.

Read Boomer’s picks here.
Read Brandon’s picks here.
Read Britnee’s picks here.
Hear Hanna’s picks here.
Hear James’s picks here.

-The Swampflix Crew

Rats! (2025)

Hollywood studios are struggling to get back on their feet after years of being knocked to the ground by blows like the COVID-19 pandemic, labor union strikes, and the decline of the Marvel Cinematic Industrial Complex. That’s bad news for shareholders & below-the-line workers alike, but it has cleared a lot of space on local marquees for microbudget indie cinema that would otherwise be elbowed out of the frame by superhero flicks, nostalgic remakes, and other Disney products of that cursed ilk. It’s easy to doomsay about the future of theatrical moviegoing in our current blockbuster lull, but I can’t get too dispirited by a trend that’s left room for independently-funded filmmakers like Jane Schoenbrun, Vera Drew, Kyle Edward Ball, Robbie Banfitch, Matt Farley, Kansas Bowling, Dylan Greenberg, Mike Cheslik and Ryland Tews to land major headlines & showtimes when just a decade ago their work would’ve been stuck in straight-to-Vimeo purgatory. Maybe it’s a bad time to own a movie studio, but things are looking up for outsider artists with attention-grabbing filmmaking styles, an active After Effects subscription, and a dream.

I’m excited to add Maxwell Nalevansky & Carl Fry to that growing list of microbudget freaks who’ve landed major impact with minor resources in this new era of outsider cinema. Their debut feature Rats! calls back to an older tradition of Texan slacker art sparked by a previous independent cinema boom, but I don’t know that any of those post-Linklater buttscratchers were ever as exceedingly gross or as truly anarchic. A pop-punk breakfast cereal commercial molding in rotten milk, Rats! is a singular vision, if not only because none of its peers would think to extrude poop directly onto the lens. Set in small-town Texas in the mid-aughts, it follows the daily follies of a permanently stoned graffiti artist who earns himself a night in jail when he’s caught tagging the town’s beloved public phone booth. The especially deranged cop on his case offers him amnesty for this crime if he rats on his small-time drug dealer cousin, whom she suspects of selling nukes to Osama Bin Laden but does not have the evidence to prove it. Meanwhile, a local serial killer is systematically removing the hands of unsuspecting victims around town, which also gets unfairly pinned on the cousins despite their collective ambitions mostly amounting to ripping bongs & chilling out. There isn’t much else going on in terms of plot, but much violence, romance, pop-punk whining, and lazing about ensues.

Rats! estimates what it might be like if the singing-butthole sequence of Pink Flamingos were staged in the live-action cartoon playhouse of Cool as Ice. The audience is afforded no time to adjust to its cavity-boring sugar rush, as the film frequently cuts to one-off Looney Tunes gags & nauseating Farrelly Brothers gross-outs without warning. It’s an unrelenting editing rhythm that’s sure to trigger a fight-or-flight response in unsuspecting viewers, but it’s also one with promising cult-classic potential for those who stick with it, given the density & intensity of its jokes. Like with other recent outsider-art triumphs like The People’s Joker & Hundreds of Beavers, it only gets funnier the more time you spend with it, as it builds its own inside-jokes with repeated gags like its persistent, nonsensical mispronunciation of the word “hands.” There might be some subversive political commentary in its lampooning of fascist suburban paranoia and its declaration that “The only good cop is a dead cop,” but for the most part its only goal from minute to minute is to make the audience laugh, and it consistently succeeds. Everything else is just a loving effort to make every frame as cartoonishly 2007 as possible, collecting as many totems from the era as it can in 85 breakneck minutes: an Alkaline Trio poster, a Converge t-shirt, a McCain/Palin billboard, Game Stop & Hot Topic shoplifting sprees, Xanax tablets, a panini press, etc.

Yellow Veil is giving Rats! a proper theatrical run before it hits VOD, including a local screening at The Broad on 3/28. Regardless of its immediate response from a wide audience, that level of distribution is an immediate victory for a film this cheap, this gross, and this prankishly abrasive. Not that long ago, it likely would have stalled on the regional festival circuit before trickling into self-published online platforms. That’s cause to celebrate, preferably over 40ozs and Black & Milds with your closest knucklehead friends for the full effect.

-Brandon Ledet

Episode #147 of The Swampflix Podcast: Willard vs Ben w/ We Love to Watch

Welcome to Episode #147 of The Swampflix Podcast. For this episode, Britnee & Brandon are joined by Aaron Armstrong & Pete Moran of the We Love to Watch podcast to discuss the melodramatic rat-revenge horror Willard (1971), its sequel Ben (1972), and its 2003 remake starring Crispin Glover. Enjoy!

00:00 Welcome
02:12 Spooktober recaps on the We Love to Watch podcast

13:43 The Seventh Curse (1986)
16:50 Over the Garden Wall (2014)
18:37 Angst (1983)
24:12 All Cheerleaders Die (2013)

30:13 Willard (1971) vs Ben (1972)
1:22:35 Willard (2003)

You can stay up to date with our podcast through SoundCloudSpotifyiTunesStitcherTuneIn, or by following the links on this page.

– The Podcast Crew & The We Love to Watch Boys

Lagniappe Podcast: The Secret of NIMH (1982)

For this lagniappe episode of the podcast, BoomerBrandon, and Alli discuss the animated fantasy film The Secret of NIMH (1982), the directorial debut of Disney defector Don Bluth.

00:00 Welcome

01:56 Big (1988)
04:40 Avengers Grimm (2015)
06:52 247°F (2011)
07:41 Jacob’s Ladder (2019)
08:30 Fracture (2007)
09:45 The Net (1995)
11:26 The 6th Day (2000)
12:25 The Block Island Sound (2021)
13:50 The Indian in the Cupboard (1995)
18:29 Love & Monsters (2020)
23:15 Pinocchio (2020)

25:45 The Secret of NIMH (1982)

You can stay up to date with our podcast through SoundCloudSpotifyiTunesStitcherTuneIn, or by following the links on this page.

– The Lagniappe Podcast Crew

Rat Film (2017)

I can’t think of many corners of cinema as alive with innovation & experimentation right now as the documentary & the essay film. Weirdo 2017 titles like Swagger, I Am Not Your Negro, Beware the Slenderman, Casting JonBenet, Love and Saucers, and The World is Mine were some of the most formally & tonally surprising experiences I had with movies all last year. Despite the obvious constraints of working with non-fiction subjects, the digital age post-Herzog documentary is proving to be one of the most vibrantly creative cinematic art forms we have at our disposal. Enter Rat Film, another small scale weirdo doc that’s been garnering buzz for well over a year before finally being released on VOD in recent months. In an elevator pitch, Rat Film can be described as an essay film on the lives & deaths of the rat population in Baltimore and the unlikely ways the comings & goings of those rodents relate to systemic racism in that city’s history. The details of how that essay is laid out are fascinating, however, as Rat Film explores a near-psychedelic multimedia approach to documentary as a craft, to the point where its form is just as significant as its subject. That dynamic honestly feels par for the course for a modern doc, but that hasn’t always been the case.

“There ain’t never been a rat problem in Baltimore. It’s always been a people problem.” So says an affable city worker interviewed here whose entire job is to locate & poison rats. Rat Film profiles a wide range of personalities on the rat-obsession spectrum: pet owners, pest control city workers, amateur rat catchers, musicians who experiment with rat-operated theremins* (Dan Deacon, specifically), etc. These small voices in the larger conversation on Baltimore’s rat overpopulation are interwoven with a history lesson on the political & scientific evils perpetuated by a Dr. Richter, who used rat populations to justify social engineering in bizarre treatises like “Rats, Man, and the Welfare State.” A long history of racial segregation & social experimentation emerges among the film’s kaleidoscopic images of crude computer simulations, Google satellite photos, fireworks, drag racing, snakes, and of course, rats. Lots of rats, from the pink jelly bean infants to the massive, dog-scale behemoths. Instead of neatly explaining how all these disparate elements tie together into a cohesive whole, the movie instead ends on an ambiguous note of science fiction absurdity, leaving its audience to stew in the discomfort.

Admittedly, Rat Film is much drier and not nearly as kinetic as what’s advertised in its trailers. The house cat documentary Kedi is much more impressive in finding ways to document the secret lives of impossibly uncooperative animal subjects; Laurie Anderson’s Heart of a Dog was much bolder in experimenting with the weird tone that can be struck with emotionally-distant, National Geographic-style narration in lines like “Does a blind rat dream?” Rat Film can also frustrate in its stubbornness to justify its own indulgences, such as what a heavily-featured drag racing speedway has to do with Baltimore’s “rat problem” at all. Even with those weak spots in consideration, Rat Film is still one of the stranger reflections on systemic racism, animal behavior, and the emptiness of modern life you’re ever likely to see onscreen, much less all at once. With an ambient Dan Deacon score that jarringly alternates between unexpected images to the cue of static pops, it’s a film that’s held together mostly in its commitment to deconstruction & looseness. There’s enough material here that would be worthy of a no-frills, straightforward documentary, but the experimental cinema approach of Rat Film is much more likely to draw (and maintain) attention than a more traditional work could. It’s also just one piece in a much larger gestalt that suggests there’s even more surprise & experimentation to come in the essay film medium, which is what excites me most.

*In college, I was in a band that used to play shows with a local punk group that featured a rat-operated theremin as a main player, which is a memory I was happy to have this film loosen. I do remember that particular rat meeting an unfortunate end, however. The volume of an average punk show was probably super bad for him (see Rock ‘n’ Roll High School for details there) and I think the heat of their tour van is eventually what did him in. R.I.P., little buddy.

-Brandon Ledet