I’ve already published my list of the 15 Best Films of 2025, and some of my selections would likely be labeled “underrated” or “under-the-radar.” Films like “April” and “The Story of Souleymane” absolutely deserved a wider audience—let alone more critical attention. With that in mind, I’ve decided to spotlight 10 more films that, for one reason or another, were given an unfair shake, whether commercially, critically, or both.
I saw so many compelling, sometimes strange, and always thoughtful films in 2025. Some arrived to acclaim, others slipped out quietly; many landed on streaming platforms and disappeared without much notice at all. One article alone won’t be enough to secure them the audience they deserve, but that’s where you come in. Maybe you’ll seek out a few of these films, feel the same admiration I did, and pass the recommendation along to a friend or colleague.
“The President’s Cake”
A small miracle of a debut—funny, tender, and political, without ever being didactic. It follows nine-year-old Lamia, a poor girl in 1990s Iraq, who is tasked with baking a birthday cake for the president who goes into the chaos of the city to find the ingredients. That’s it: a simple premise, but everything around it vibrates with absurdity, and danger. As I watched, I found myself marveling at Hasan Hadi’s control, balancing dark humor, childlike wonder, and the grim realities of life under an authoritarian regime. This film is visually rich, intimate, and endlessly inventive, and I kept being pulled deeper into Lamia’s world.
“Presence”
An eerie, experimental haunted‑house drama that reimagines the genre by literally putting the audience in the ghost’s shoes. Shot almost entirely from the spirit’s point of view, the film unfolds in a single suburban house inhabited by the Payne family — mother Rebekah (Lucy Liu), her gentle husband Chris, swaggering son Tyler, and troubled daughter Chloe, who begins sensing an unseen force soon after they move in. Watching from the ghost’s POV, I felt like an intruder in a world that was both familiar and alien. This device creates a voyeuristic, atmospheric experience that emphasizes mood over jump scares. Soderbergh’s minimalist visual style and tight pacing kept me on edge for the full 85 minutes.
“Splitsville”
Here is a lively, visually striking romantic comedy that blends modern relationship themes with old‑school farce. It follows Carey (Kyle Marvin), blindsided when his wife Ashley (Adria Arjona) asks for a divorce, as he leans on friends Julie (Dakota Johnson) and Paul (Michael Covino)—only to find their open marriage throws his own understanding of intimacy into chaos. I couldn’t stop laughing at the comedy of errors, especially the over‑the‑top slapstick fight. Shot on textured 35 mm with character‑driven camerawork, the film balances laughs with tender reflections on love, friendship, and non‑monogamy, and I found myself unexpectedly moved in between the chaos.
“Friendship”
If you’re a fan of Tim Robinson’s brand of comedy, then you know what you’re getting yourself into with this film. Andrew DeYoung’s “Friendship” follows suburban dad Craig (Robinson), who becomes obsessively fixated on his new weatherman neighbor, Austin (Paul Rudd). I laughed out loud more times than I can count at the socially awkward characters, offbeat dialogue, and plain weirdness. Part gonzo, part deranged riff on I Love You, Man, “Friendship” delivers irreverent gags and absurd set pieces that had me howling with laughter and shaking my head at the same time.
“The Plague”
This is the kind of debut that announces a filmmaker who absolutely refuses to comfort the viewer. Set at an all-boys water polo camp in the early 2000s, the film follows a timid 12-year-old who gets singled out and absorbs the bullying. That’s the plot—simple, primal, and deeply unsettling. As I watched, I felt the humiliation and fear seeping through every locker room scene. Charlie Polinger directs with real nerve, and stylistic precision, turning swimming pools and hallways into claustrophobic zones of dread. Shot on 35 mm, it looks beautiful in a cold, suffocating way. It’s an impressively confident, disturbing first feature that lingered with me long after it ended.
“Urchin”
In his debut feature, Harris Dickinson delivers a raw, small in scale, and unflinching statement. The film follows Mike, a man drifting through the edges of London. I found myself drawn into his chaotic psyche, experiencing the story not as a conventional plot but in fragmented, immersive moments. The documentary-like realism contrasts beautifully with heightened, stylized sequences. Frank Dillane is devastating as the lead, and I couldn’t help but admire the film’s refusal to simplify its narrative, making every scene feel immediate and unpredictable.
“Caught Stealing”
Darren Aronofsky slumming it—in the best possible way. Adapted from Charlie Huston’s novel, this is Austin Butler in grimy 1990s New York as a former baseball prodigy turned bartender who agrees to watch a neighbor’s cat and promptly finds himself chased by criminals who think he’s sitting on something valuable. I felt the tension and thrill coursing through me as the story unfolded. It’s a classic setup, but lean and nasty, soaked in sweat, blood, and attitude. Despite the street-level grit, this is Aronofsky at his most playful—looser, funnier, and more mischievous than anything he’s made before. I could sense him riffing on genre, letting the chaos breathe, and it was exhilarating to watch.
“Bring Her Back”
Horror duo Danny and Michael Philippou follow up their breakout (“Talk to Me”) with a relentlessly unnerving descent into psychological dread, blending domestic terror with surreal body horror. Set in the outer suburbs of Adelaide, the film centers on teen siblings Andy and his legally blind sister Piper, who, after their father’s sudden death, are placed in the care of the eerily intense Laura (a standout Sally Hawkins), whose state of mind quickly turns into outright psychosis. Watching it, I felt a constant sense of tension gnawing at me. Rather than offering tidy narrative answers, the movie embraces feverish imagery and a creeping sense of decay. The atmosphere is pure, unadulterated dread, and I couldn’t look away.
“Holy Cow”
Here’s a scrappy, deeply human French film. Set in rural France, the film follows an 18-year-old screw-up who suddenly finds himself responsible for his kid sister after their father’s death and hatches a desperate plan to save the family farm by entering a cheese-making competition. I was charmed by Louise Courvoisier’s ultra-realistic direction and her refusal to sentimentalize the story. The non-professional actors made every moment feel lived-in and authentic. “Holy Cow” doesn’t reinvent the wheel, but I found it quietly unforgettable—a confident debut that deserves more attention from arthouse audiences worldwide.
“A Little Prayer”
The kind of small-scaled indie drama Sundance used to champion. Angus MacLachlan’s film, which premiered at Sundance in January 2023, follows a North Carolina patriarch who discovers his son is having an affair and must decide whether to intervene or stay silent. Watching it, I was struck by the film’s quiet intelligence and emotional subtlety. It’s grown-up filmmaking: modest, literate, emotionally attentive, and anchored by another quietly excellent turn from David Strathairn. After its Sundance bow, “A Little Prayer” vanished, only to be dumped when it finally got U.S. distribution in late summer 2025, with little marketing. This beauty of a film deserved so much better, and I felt that disappointment keenly.