Mahmood Bakri (To a Land Unknown),Gael Garcia Bernal (Magellan), Frank Dillane (Urchin), Colin Farrell (Ballad of a Small Player), Harry Melling (Pillion), Shia LaBeouf (Henry Johnson), Lee Kang-sheng (Blue Sun Palace),Billy Magnussen (Violent Ends), João Pedro Mariano (Baby), Josh O'Connor (Rebuilding), Abou Sangaré (Souleyman's Story), Albrecht Schuch (Peacock), Toni Servillo (La Grazia), Bill Skarsgård (Dead Man's Wire), Denzel Washington (Highest 2 Lowest), Ben Whishaw (Peter Hujar's Day), Yoshii Ryōsuke (Cloud), and Yoshizawa Ryō (Kokuho), whose films I haven't seen yet.
Deragh Campbell (Matt and Mara), Emma Corrin (100 Nights of Hero), Jodie Foster (A Private Life), Gelmine Glemzaite (Drowning Dry), Andrea Bræin Hovig (Love), Dakota Johnson (Materialists),Diane Lane (Anniversary), Carey Mulligan (The Ballad of Wallis Island), Elizabeth Olsen (Eternity), Tessa Thompson (Hedda), Tessa Van den Broeck (Julie Keeps Quiet), and Alexi Wasser (Messy), whose movies I have not yet seen.
I’m really not sure why Bill Condon and company made this. Jennifer Lopez is fabulous and perfect for this part, but why bother doing the musical version of Kiss of the Spider Woman if you’re going to cut most of the songs that have emotional impact? There is just no point to a Kiss of the Spider Woman movie without “Over the Wall”, “You Could Never Shame Me”, “Dear One” (which is included in a tiny way), and especially “The Day after That”, one of the most emotionally impactful songs Kander and Ebb ever wrote.
This movie musical cuts itself off at the knees because it forces all the songs to be diegetic. In other words, the songs can only be there if they exist in the fantasy/musical world. The most recent Color Purple had a similar issue. It’s just so stupid. This conceit even ruins "She's a Woman" (obviously my favorite song in the musical), because in this film, it's not song by Molina himself but is sung by his avatar in the fake-ass movie he's describing. (Never mind that this song would make no actual sense in that movie.)
What’s worse is that there is only a minimally marked contrast between the art direction for the real world sequences and the art direction for the movie-musical sequences. So it isn’t as if one feels real and the other is marked as artificial. The “real world” in this Spider Woman still looks like a musical. Which means that this little rule about songs needing to be diegetic à la Chicago doesn't even matter.
I loved Jennifer Lopez in “Where You Are”. She comes out in full Chita Rivera drag, with the white tuxedo jacket, and she just looks incredible. It’s the only good number in this movie.
The rest of this movie… I just am not sure why they bothered if they weren’t going to do the songs.
1. What did you do in 2025 that you'd never done before?
Lots of small things and not too many big things. But I think that's good. Small changes eventually make for drastic life alterations. Going to Ciudad de México in February was probably the biggest highlight in terms of things I've never done before, but I also made many new dishes, went to St. George Island Brewfest for the first time, fasted for 72 hours, and learned a lot about what I am capable of doing.
2. Did you keep your new year's resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
At the new year last year I made a deal with myself that I would do less work for my employer, that I would work out more regularly, and that I would spend more time traveling and visiting friends. I did all of these except for the part where I work less for my employer. Somehow I seem even to have increased that amount of work. I don't think this will happen next year—I'm on sabbatical for five months—but I need to get better at that work–life balance everyone talks about.
For 2026 I resolve simply to say yes to more things. When people invite me to do things, I need to start saying yes more and more often.
3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
No.
4. Did anyone close to you die?
No.
5. What countries did you visit?
Mexico City in February was absolutely amazing. And in September I went to Vega Baja in Puerto Rico, which was also amazingly restful. (Yes, I know that Puerto Rico is a colony in the United States empire.)
6. What would you like to have in 2026 that you lacked in 2025?
Greater peace of mind and more of an ability to relax.
7. What dates from 2025 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
October 15—The Violate Man: Male/Male Rape in the American Imagination was published by Vanderbilt University Press.
8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Really nothing can compare to having The Violate Man come out this year. It's an enormous personal achievement, and in many ways it's a huge weight off of my shoulders. I've been working on the research published in The Violate Man since some time around 2008 or 2009. Perhaps a third of this was written as my dissertation in 2012. Since then I've worked at shaping my thinking on the topic of male/male rape into a book manuscript. I've probably told many people this story, but the book has had a lot of trouble finding an editor willing to work with me on publishing it. Its subject matter has been difficult for a lot of people. Gianna Mosser, my editor at Vanderbilt has been a true collaborator and mentor on this book, and I feel extremely grateful to have her working with me on this book.
The book won a publication subvention award from the American Society for Theatre Research this year, and I'm excited for any awards that might come its way, but mostly I just want people to be able to read this book, into which I've put so much energy, time, and care.
9. What was your biggest failure?
I am decidedly a failure at romance at the moment. I am a very introverted and private person, and I just am not interested in letting anyone else in further than a friend. I really like friendship, actually! Maybe I don't want anything more. This has been disappointing for others in my life, including—occasionally—me. I have definitely tried, though, which is why it counts as a failure.
10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
I did not.
11. What was the best thing you bought?
At a farmer's market in Northampton this summer I bought a fig tree. Hopefully it survives while I'm in California for three weeks, but I expect it will. The woman I bought it from said "It could live in your trunk for two weeks!"
12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
New Yorkers came through this year and elected Zohran Mamdani to be their mayor. It was maybe the most hopeful thing to happen in 2025.
13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
Another appalling and depressing year in US American politics. I don't understand how most of these people live with themselves or look themselves in the mirror. The people who made me the most embarrassed this year were the craven Republicans in Congress, who seem to operate without any principles whatsoever aside from racism and the prospect of achieving personal wealth and power.
14. Which charitable organizations did you give to?
I also donated money to help some students and former students in need.
15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Katie and Nick's wedding in May.
Cookie week at the New York Times.
Being able to do the doctoral hooding for my student Rebecca Curran.
The American Society for Theatre Research annual meeting in Denver.
Doing a 72-hour water fast with Dayne and Garrett.
16. What song will always remind you of 2025?
"Golden" from K-Pop Demon Hunters, of course, though it's definitely not my favorite song from the movie. That would be:
17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
a) happier or sadder? Happier.
b) thinner or fatter? Thicker but not fatter.
c) richer or poorer? Richer.
18. What do you wish you'd done more of?
Writing, honestly. My job right now—especially as the editor of the Journal of Dramatic Theory and Criticism—means reading the writing of other scholars multiple times. This just doesn't leave much time for me to be doing the writing I'd like to be doing.
19. What do you wish you'd done less of?
I spent way too much time on Snapchat in 2025. But I am not quite sure if I wish I were spending less time doing it, so this is an oblique answer to the question. I'm getting something out of Snapchat, I guess...
This Snapchat thing is super weird. Somehow, in the last 5 months, I've amassed more than 15,000 Snapchat followers. They're mostly there for teacher–student fantasies, I think. There is also just an enormous contingent of people who compliment me on my physique and my chest. This feels good. I've been self-conscious about my body forever—I think this has a lot to do with Christianity and shame and "the mortification of the flesh" and all that. (Christianity really really fucked me up. I don't recommend it.) But back to Snapchat: I think the weird thing is that I try to be genuine and honest with everyone, but with the number of people messaging me, that's just not really possible. Anyway, it's a new, weird world for me. I've even considered doing OnlyFans and trying to make a little money at it.
20. How did you spend the Winter holidays?
I've been in Southern California for the last week or so, and I'll be here until January 6. It's been very, very relaxing.
21. Did you fall in love in 2025?
I did not.
22. How many one-night stands?
Only a couple. This was a real fail this year.
23. What was your favorite TV program?
I did not watch Heated Rivalry, but I will, I will; it's too gayportant not to. The problem is that this is the time when I need to catch up on movies. I will check out these hockey pucks in the new year.
I try to avoid tv as much as possible.
There was a lot less of it on tv this year, but—as with 2024—I kept current with all seasons of Drag Race. This year that meant: Canada's Drag Race season 5, RuPaul's Drag Race season 17, RuPaul's Drag Race: Tournament of All Stars (season 10), Drag Race France: All Stars, Drag Race Brasil season 2, Drag Race Philippines: Slaysian Royale, RuPaul's Drag Race UK series 7, and Drag Race España temporada 5. The best of these were All Stars France and Slaysian Royale. Unfortunately, both US seasons were a bust this year, despite there being some amazing drag on them. The worst of these seasons, though, was decidedly Brasil—what a mess.
24. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?
Not really. But if you don't return your shopping carts at the grocery store, you are jumping to the top of that list. And I truly believe there is a special place in Hell for the people who are listening to stuff or watching videos on their phones without headphones in shared public spaces.
25. What was the best book you read?
Two different novels by Álvaro Enrigue: You Dreamed of Empires, an amazing retelling of the first encounter between Moctezuma, Malintizin, and Cortés that I flat-out adored; and then because I loved that so much I got his earlier book Sudden Death, which is a kind of insane tennis match involving Caravaggio, the history of tennis, the conquest of México, the execution of Anne Boleyn, and a clear path between Mexican artists working with feathers and Baroque chiaroscuro.
Pascal Quignard's gorgeous All the World's Mornings, which was recommended to me by my friend Joe. I also loved Alan Hollinghurst's Our Evenings.
I also read some great plays this year: Nick Green's Casey and Diana and Cliff Cardinal's play William Shakespeare's As You Like It: a Radical Retelling. And I read about 20 French tragedies from the 17th and 18th centuries. I didn't love all of those, but it was very exciting to read to the side of the usual French canon.
So many fun times with my friends in Tallahassee. A brilliant new colleague who joined me teaching our PhD students (honestly it's so hard to get good people; I can't tell you how happy I am).
29. What did you want and not get?
A mandoline. I'll buy one soon.
But honestly it's worth saying that I have most of what I want. I think part of what it means to be happy is to want what you have. There is a great deal I could complain about, but I would rather delight in the things I have been given.
30. What was your favorite film of this year?
This is still likely to change—I have about 60 films on my list to see—but as of the December 30 and until I see tonight's movie, my top ten is:
31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
I turned 44. My friend Matt met me in Clearwater Beach, FL and we drank and relaxed on the beach and talked and ate crab. Matt had also set up a surprise where our friend Walter walked into the bar we were in on my actual birthday, and we all had dinner and lots of laughs and nonsense. It was glorious, and I had the best time.
32. What new recipes did you make this year?
The best cookie recipe of the year was Dan Pelosi's Dark 'n' Stormy Cookies, which are amazing. I'm so happy he invented them and I made them (twice).
I've been cooking a lot from Ixta Belfrage's book Fusão, it's a Brazilian fusion cookbook. And I've been making a ton of different bean dishes, as I work toward eating less meat.
I post a lot of food content on Instagram. I am not sure what I'll be making more of in this next year, but I look forward to more East Asian and South Asian food I think.
33. What were your cocktail obsessions?
I drink a lot of Manhattans still. I think it's just so much easier—no lemon juice to squeeze and no shaking. Just a perfect Filthy cherry and that excellent mix of bitters, Whiskey, and Vermouth.
34. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
An H-Mart in Tallahassee.
35. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2025?
Polo after polo.
36. What kept you sane?
I have two standing dates every week now. My bar trivia team (Michael, Meredith, and Jason) meets for Professor Jim's Trivia every Tuesday. And my movie club (I call it Unseen Movie Club but I don't know what everyone else calls it) meets every Thursday to watch something none of us has seen before. This is a real recipe for sanity.
37. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
Gianmarco Soresi
38. What political issue stirred you the most?
Ongoing genocide in Palestine. The ongoing refugee crisis in the Mediterranean. The resurgence of fascism in the United States.
This is the same as last year because this is what voters everywhere overwhelmingly seem to like. It's horrible.
This year we can add: the federal government sending military troops into US cities, the US committing piracy in international waters, the bombing of Venezuelan boats, and the Supreme Court's truly criminal and lawless shadow docket.
I like this map Tesla sent me that shows where I charged my car in 2025.
39. Whom did you miss?
My friend John, who I didn't get to see in 2025 because he's over in Spain while I'm in Los Angeles.
40. Who was the best new person you met?
Not the first time I met him, but it was my first time really getting to hang out with Jonathan Shandell this year, and he's great.
41. Tell us a valuable life-lesson you learned in 2025:
I think most of what I learned this year is about teaching. With the crazy advancements in Large Language Models, teaching has become a very new business. I can no longer really trust that students have written what they say they've written, which means I can no longer trust that they've read what they've said they've read or learned any of what I was hoping they might take away from the lessons I've planned. At least at home—in the classroom I can mostly trust that they're there with me, thinking alongside of me. But this has really pushed me in new directions in terms of thinking about why I teach, and why I want them to learn. I've been doing this a long time, so this isn't completely new, but I've realized more and more that this is for them and what I'm working to do is give them tools and ideas and new ways to think about things. It's my responsibility to do that. It's also my responsibility to make learning enticing so that they might want to learn what I have to teach them. The challenge here is that I have to know very, very well why it is that I think they need what I have to give them. We can't take anything for granted any more. This has made me even more confident about my teaching, because I have also had to reckon with and be quite sure about the value of what I have to offer.
42. Share an important quotation from 2025:
This is from Avgi Saketopoulou's book Sexuality Beyond Consent.
"If the perverse underwrites all sexuality, rather than ask perversity to account for itself, we might, instead, ask after docile, tame, and subdued sexualities that may suffer from having lost their footing in the perverse."
I've been thinking a lot this year about what we don't know about each other and about ourselves. I was watching the movie Weapons recently with my sister and my niece (who loves horror movies and talked me into this), and I was struck by a scene in which Josh Brolin's character is dreaming and he begs his mute son to talk to him.
It's the queer child, I said to my relatives who looked at me quizzically. We demand that the child tell us what's going on with him because we cannot fathom what is happening inside the child. We cannot understand his thought processes or desires. This is all children, of course, not only the queer child. And the reason Weapons works so well is that it is indeed very possible that a group of children made some sinister (or indeed harmless) plan to all go do something that the adults in their lives simply cannot fathom. The desires of the child are opaque.
But also this is true of all of us, even ourselves. We don't actually understand ourselves either. In Sexuality Beyond Consent Saketoupoluou writes, "I do not know you. And neither do you." and I think about that all the time. I don't actually know myself very well at all, despite all the navel-gazing I've done (including these annual blogs!). I think this line of thinking has underwritten most of my intellectual work this year. I want to think more about what I am capable of that I haven't yet discovered, and this means also pushing myself toward doing things that I have decided are "not me". Docility and rootedness have worked for me for a while, but I wonder what else there is to discover or put pressure on within the opacity of the self (that is, my self).
P.S. If you have your own annual report or if you have anything to say about this one, shoot me a text or a DM. I'd love to hear from you.
Sidney Lumet's The Anderson Tapes is a satire of the surveillance state, perhaps more in conversation with Lumet’s own 1976 satire of television, Network, than with its more obvious companions, Francis Ford Coppola’s The Conversation (1974) or Brian De Palma's Blowout (1981).
Coppola’s version of the surveillance state, for example, is one of terror and darkness, a descent into madness brought on by the panopticon. Lumet’s version is much, much lighter. He sees all of this collecting of audio and video as so much wasted manpower, so much squandered money, and so much ill-spent time. Six people in a room talking about a video tape and trying to gain information about what's happening between a 90-year-old man and his son when nothing at all is happening! Lumet’s movie thinks the police state is absurd—like Kafka but comic.
I think this comic quality is relatively hard to see from the perspective of 2025—and so Lumet's film feels weird from this vantage. We are used to thinking of surveillance as an evil, malicious, signifier of unstoppable state power. (The key 2025 example is, I suppose, Edgar Wright's The Running Man.) In The Anderson Tapes, though, all this recording is petty and stupid, and the agencies aren’t talking to one another, and no one knows anything about anything, even though everything is being recorded. The key to this is the truly insane sequence where the cops jump from roof to roof in act three, and the hilarious scene a bit later in which they try to talk to one another on walkie-talkies but can’t get a signal. The robbery is, of course, uncovered by a HAM radio—not any of the new surveillance devices from the 70s. In fact, even that discovery is nearly hampered by the bureaucracy at the telephone switchboard. (If you doubt my argument here look again at the film’s finale, in which all the agencies are obliged to erase their recordings.)
All of this is to say that The Anderson Tapes works as a thriller (I watched it as part of a Criterion Channel series called 70s Thrillers), but it’s more of a scathing satire than it is anything else: a mockery of the 1970s surveillance state and the grotesque waste it involves.
Plainclothes is baffling. Carmen Emmi has made a movie about the closet and the virtues of coming out of the closet in the year of our lord 2025? Why? Who is this for?
Tom Blyth is quite good in this, but the direction and screenplay are very bad. And I am truly confused by the photography decisions. The images consistently—in the middle of scenes—switch to a grainy VHS version of the same shot. I think this is supposed to be a kind of visual cue for the main character’s anxiety, but it never felt like that while watching the movie.
The other truly baffling choice is to tell the story in two different time sequences. The movie begins and ends at a New Year’s Eve party and then basically everything else is a very long flashback that moves in more-or-less sequential order. But the movie would have made a great deal more sense if it actually just moved in sequence without the consistent jumps to the party in the present. Instead, the viewer spends nearly a third of the movie’s running time trying to figure out what’s going on. And the tension of the party itself—which should actually be very, very high—feels like just another episode in this man’s anxious everyday life.
The real issue, though, is the subject matter. I fail to understand how the very important issues surrounding men who have sex with men in the 1990s (this film is interested in homophobia, AIDS, cruising, and the closet) relate to 2025. It's not that that wasn't an important period; it was. But this is a movie that's interested in moralizing about that time period, and in telling a story about a man working through those issues. In this way, Plainclothes refuses almost completely to relate to issues facing men who have sex with men in the present day, and the issues of the 1990s feel almost completely irrelevant.
Twinless, directed by and starring James Sweeney is very funny and also creepy and strange and a bit troubling. I liked it.
Dylan O’Brien gives a stellar performance.
The more I think about it the smarter I think this screenplay is. In many ways it’s structured like other romantic comedies, but I think Sweeney just goes about all of this in a really, really smart way. It’s a very clever bit of writing.
Like, compared to other recent gay romantic comedies, this is head and shoulders above the desperately generic Things like This, which even Joey Pollari couldn’t save.
Another thing to say about Twinless, and one of the reasons I liked it so much, is that it is really unapologetically gay. It has a sensibility to it that is gay in its very construction and point of view rather than being simply a story about a gay man. I appreciated this a great deal. It feels very rare right now.
I really really wish this Esteban Arango's Ponyboi were better, but it’s mired in a kind of overly sentimental Sundance vibe that takes itself way too seriously and insistently stresses its own self importance.
This movie is also way too slow, with long sections of neon-lit slow-motion fantasies that don’t work and undermine the gritty realism for which the screenplay is actually aiming. The movie can't decide on its own tone, really, and so we get dreamy, colorful, neon fantasy (like the poster) and then we contrast that with serious crime film.
Dylan O’Brien is predictably wonderful in this—he understands what he’s doing perfectly, giving us a villain who’s also a sort of comic buffoon who we want to care about even though he’s an unredeemable idiot asshole.
I loved Indya Moore, too. She shines in her one scene, a sequence that actually makes very little sense in the film’s narrative structure but which works very well because of Moore’s assured and confident performance.
Gomes's brilliant film exists in three time periods simultaneously.
A man in 1917 gets cold feet and flees his fiancée following the route of the Grand Tour: Rangoon, Singapore, Bangkok, Saigon, Manila, Osaka, Shanghai, and then up the Yangtze River. But while Edward travels, he encounters those cities in the present day, the cities’ current inhabitants showing us those vibrant cities now (sometimes in monochrome, sometimes in color). It’s a strikingly brilliant device, and it refuses to look at those cities through old early twentieth century orientalist modes of tourism.
(Amazingly, Edward and Molly’s two journeys are narrated in Burmese, then Thai, then Vietnamese, Tagalog, Japanese, Mandarin. This is a film where all the English characters speak Portuguese as if that’s their native language, but sometimes carry on conversations in flawless French without even remarking on the difference. It’s very very clever.)
First as tragedy, then as farce. For the film’s second half (and if you’ve seen a Gomes film before, you were probably expecting this) we switch to Molly, as she chases her fiancé through these cities and finally up the Yangtze. Her story is completely different, and she has an extraordinarily different approach. Her trip also takes much, much, longer.
This is fascinating from start to finish. It is (as some have noted) difficult to attach emotionally to the two central characters, but this is about cities and Asia and colonialism and life, not about story. It’s about the journey, as a self-help guru might say.
Damn Sorry, Baby is good. It’s so fucking smart, and so sensitively, carefully made. It’s also very funny. (Although the other people in the theatre didn’t seem to laugh at the jokes as much as I did.)
This is a film about sexual violence, but its focus (and this is fairly rare at the movies) is on the experience of the person who has survived the sexual violence. The way Eva Victor handles every part of this is just expertly crafted.
What I found especially wonderful about this was the portrait of the world that Victor has to offer us. It’s a world with dangers and injustices, certainly. And also small, stupid insensitivities and aggressions. But then, unobtrusively, surprisingly, there is gentleness and generosity, a squeeze of a hand, a sandwich with Calabrian chilis, a neighbor who knows how to start a fire.
Special shout out to Hettienne Park, whose small performance in this film is wonderful. She gives us an extraordinary moment of recognition in a courtroom sequence that felt almost overwhelming to watch.
The sound is cool. The sound, in fact, is the best part. There’s also a very good sequence on a Russian submarine. But mostly this is just soooo serious. Every line is delivered ponderously, as if we won’t know that the entirety of humanity, the lives of billions of people, perhaps the future of all life on this planet is at stake.
Like… ok. But lighten up a bit. Everyone is so fucking intense in this.
Also, this movie brings back Dead Reckoning Part One’s truly hilarious method of exposition, where four or more people (sometimes in completely different scenes and time sequences) tell us important plot information seamlessly. Instead of one voice, we get multiple! It makes no literal sense whatsoever, and it’s so funny.
As far as I am concerned, this was kind of a disaster.
Zombies are scary in general. They are living reminders of death, they are death on its way to kill you, stalking you, hunting you. (Which is, of course, what death is doing.)
28 Years Later... has some good scares, too.
The film’s main intertext is Hamlet, I think (despite all the clips of Olivier’s Henry V throughout the film). Not that 28 Years Later... is a revenge tale or a search for a murdered father, but the central character here has a mother whom he loves, as well as a stepfather and a missing father. More important is the memento mori aspect that is so essential to Hamlet: the respect for the dead and the reminder always that we too must die. This devotion to Hamlet (and Hamlet's stoicism) explains, too, the wry stoic quality that is essential to the way 28 Years Later… works.
The Danny Boyle flourishes in this movie really make it sing, I think. I liked the “Jimmy” puzzle and I am very curious about the WWI references. I’ll wait for the sequel.
We probably didn’t need a "live-action" (i.e. mostly-CGI) remake of How to Train Your Dragon in the year of our lord 2025. The original three movies are already so good! Why mess with them? But it’s impossible to be mad at this new How to Train Your Dragon. The cast is great, the story still rocks, and there are so many lovely dragons. The whole thing is a bit more sentimental than I would have liked, but John Powell's new score is great. And Toothless continues to be the coolest dragon in the world.
Some additional thoughts:
I am so sick of movies in which parents refuse to listen to the young people in their lives. It’s almost unforgivable. Like… just listen. It can’t be that hard.
The 3D made this whole thing feel a bit like a ride.
Joseph Kosinski does it again. F1 is great. It hits every beat it needs to. The sound is amazing. The script is perfect Hollywood nonsense, but it cleverly avoids most of the worst traps. And this movie has Brad Pitt and Javier Bardem and Kerry Condon, so the acting is just fuckin stellar. All three are absolutely pitch perfect. Damson Idris is great in the Miles Teller part. Sarah Niles is wonderful. The whole thing just sings.
And, sure, it’s a retread of Maverick. I mean, yeah fine. It’s mostly about the same thing and it’s mostly a similar script, and the director’s the same, and it’s giving "older guy bucks the system and blesses the young people with his wisdom". But I didn’t care one bit. I saw this on a gigantic screen and it felt like I was on a ride the whole time, and this rocked. Great score, great soundtrack, great editing. I was into it.
(PS. Why did they sell this as F1: the Movie? That makes no sense to me.)
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