2025: The Year Of Politically Paranoid Film

I will definitely not be the first or the last person to tell you that we are living in politically turbulent times. When has there ever been a non-politically-turbulent time? But, the 2020s have, so far, amplified these tensions and extremities. From the after-effects of COVID-19 to the fracturing of social media, to continuing police brutality, few places better represent these tensions than the United States. At the time of writing America is experiencing the fear of ICE raids and the reversal of progressive politics after the reelection of Trump in 2024. On the other hand, the election of socialist, Pro-Palestine, Pro-LGBTQ mayor Zohran Mamdani in New York City points towards a potential rise in support of left-wing politics. Either way, it seems as if many people have abandoned any support for a ‘middle ground’ between the two – there is the sense that extreme action must be taken to change things. 

Film (and art in general) has always been a political medium. D.W. Griffith’s1915 film The Birth of a Nation has proved controversial since its release due to its role in the rebirth of the KKK after its heroic depiction of the group. Since then, film has both influenced and reflected American politics. However, after many cinema trips in 2025, I and other movie-goers noticed a trend in last year’s film releases. Many of the films directly reflected the fractured political climate in ways that few films from previous years did, making for some uncomfortable viewing.

This year’s Oscar nominations reflect this. Ryan Coogler’s Sinners earned sixteen nominations, making it the most nominated film in Oscars’ history. Although set in the 1930s, the film’s depiction of overt racism and cultural appropriation reflects current aspects of our own political fears. After all, the vampirism at the centre of the film suggests that these concerns never really die. 

Paul Thomas Anderson’s One Battle After Another also received many nominations. The depictions of immigrant detention centres on the America-Mexico border and the underground conspiracy of the ‘Christmas Adventurers Club’ of white supremacists hit eerily close to home to the current US political preoccupations. The leftist revolutionaries who fight against this are depicted both satirically and sincerely, which for some viewers left the question of what exactly the film’s stance is. It reminded me of the similarly polarising Eddington, which since its release has seemingly been forgotten by both the Academy and film fans alike. 

Eddington similarly pokes fun at both left and right politics, in this case taking place in a small town during the pandemic, where right-wing anti-maskers come face to face with Black Lives Matter protesters, and the whole film then erupts with assassinations and terrorist plots. Many viewers took the equation between left and right politics to be disingenuous. But, Director Ari Aster explained his perspective in an interview with Vulture: ‘I wouldn’t argue that I’m equating one side with the other. Sure, on one side you have people who are hypocritical and annoying, and maybe less sincere than they purport to be. And on another side, you have people who are ruining and destroying lives.’ I think this explanation can be given for both films: that one side is clearly more conspiring and dangerously powerful than the other. The same could be said of the conspiracy at the centre of Yorgos Lanthimos’s Bugonia, in which a struggling working-class conspiracy theorist kidnaps the ‘girlboss’ CEO of a major medicine company who he believes to be an alien. I will not spoil the outcome of the film, but nevertheless it is clear that capitalist power and control leads to paranoia and extremity for all involved.

There have also been ventures into dystopian sci-fi in order to examine the continuing strains of capitalism and a growing divide between rich and poor. Francis Lawrence’s The Long Walk, Edgar Wright’s Running Man and Bong Joon Ho’s Mickey 17 all follow protagonists who are pushed to the most violent of extremes in order to survive in their fascistic societies. The first two are based on dystopian-competition Stephen King novels, conveniently both adapted after the reelection of Trump and the rising disparity between rich and poor. While in Mickey 17, Mark Ruffalo’s portrayal of the villainous leader in Mickey 17 does not shy away from a hybridity of Trump-Musk mannerisms. Dystopia has always been a warning for the future. It seems that now, the gap between our own realities and the imagined futures grows smaller and smaller.

You may have noticed that of all the films listed in this article, not one of them was directed by a woman. Once again, you’ll find only one woman has been nominated in the ‘Best Director’ category. However, I would find it hard to write this without recognising women-directed films of 2025, so when thinking about this in relation to the current political climate, a thematic strand stood out. Chloe Zhao’s Hamnet, Mary Bronstein’s If I Had Legs I’d Kick You and Lynne Ramsay’s Die My Love all grapple with the complexities and heartbreak of motherhood. This may not appear as inherently political like the other films discussed in this article, but during an era of trad-wife influencers and regressing attitudes towards abortion, highlighting the grittiness and hardship of motherhood, especially in contrast to an absent father, importantly shows that the constructed image of ‘tradwifism’ is not all that it is promised to be. 

So, after examining the shared critique of fascism that these films present, the question is left whether they will have any influence on their viewers to take action, or whether this was what the filmmakers even intended. If these films simply exist to reflect the political climate back to its audience, then what comes next? It could really be brought into question whether successful Studio films can really be revolutionary at all. They are made in a capitalist system by wealthy actors and producers who hardly embrace a revolutionary lifestyle. For example, one only needs to remember Leonardo DiCaprio’s attendance at Jeff Bezos’ wedding to question where the revolutionary politics of One Battle After Another truly lies. Still, as mentioned previously, art always has been and always will be a political endeavour. Even the recognition of a pressurised political climate can lead viewers to question: When is this all going to change?

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