Aaron Yap’s top film discoveries of 2025

It’s always a trip – out of the dusty vaults, across the decades, and onto our watchlists.

An annual tradition, a collection of rare gems and forgotten movies discovered by Aaron Yap this year.

Handgun (1983)

Deserves to be better recognised as one of the great films about everything that is still wrong with America today. The insidious sickness of gun culture. The broken system that enables it. Drum-tight, effectively discomforting vigilante thriller, less lurid than other rape-revenge exploiters. Directed with an unsparing outsider’s eye by Brit filmmaker Tony Garnett.

Whistle and I’ll Come to You (2010)

Caught up with a bunch of these M.R. James TV adaptations in October (all short and sweet, and well worth your time). Jonathan Miller’s 1968 version of this story appears to be generally preferred, but I found plenty to love in this 2010 adaptation: a brilliantly understated John Hurt performance, perfectly calibrated lonely coastal atmosphere, and a couple of biggest chills/frights I’ve had all year.

The Bear (1988)

Captivating adventure follows an orphaned bear cub surviving in the wilderness of British Columbia. Minimal dialogue, shot with mostly live animals on location. Staggering accomplishment on a technical level. Caught somewhere between a cuddly children’s film and a savage nature doc. RIP Tchéky Karyo.

Black Tuesday (1954)

Tough, ferocious crime pic starring Edward G. Robinson at his snarling best as a death-row convict plotting escape. One of the bleakest of its time. Tautly directed by Hugo Fregonese. Requisite noir firecracker I love to stumble upon every year.

Bye Bye Love (1974)

Once-thought-lost sole feature from Isao Fujisawa is a Japanese New Wave eye-opener. Devil-may-care loves-on-the-lam road movie, shot on 16mm. A blissfully liberating and radical piece of avant queer cinema.

Night of the Juggler

Deadly Hero

Night of the Juggler (1980) / Deadly Hero (1975)

Recommend this double feature if you ever feel like descending to another level of the grime-soaked New York of yesteryear that doesn’t exist anymore. Seedy crime, amoral cops and crooks. A cinema of sweat, desperation, and urban rage.

The Touch (1992)

Detective investigating a family murder/suicide encounters supernatural shenanigans thick with the kind of cosmic, oppressive dread that Lucio Fulci used to excel in orchestrating. Considered a Russian horror all-timer, but hasn’t received Viy-levels of wider recognition yet, no doubt partially due to lack of availability. Also shout-out to another comparably dread-filled discovery this year: Lindsey C. Vickers’ The Appointment.

Conquest (1983)

Speaking of Fulci, he hit new heights of astral incoherence with this deliriously trippy Conan the Barbarian rip-off. A fantasy melange of werewolves, zombies, lasers, strange sorcery and generally crazy shit, smeared in a relentlessly soft-focus haze optimised for late-night consumption.

Junior Bonner (1972)

One of Sam Peckinpah’s gentlest films, a low-key, rueful, finely etched portrait of a washed-up rodeo cowboy (Steve McQueen) that really should also be considered one of his best. A terrific “changing times/end of an era” picture, with a fantastic cast, including Robert Preston, Ida Lupino, Joe Don Baker, and Ben Johnson.

The Roundup (2022)

All the four films in this series (which began with The Outlaws in 2017) feature fairly interchangeable plots, so you won’t be able to ask me to distinguish them narratively. But as long as you’re okay with what is essentially a big screen cop show based around the concept of Ma Dong-seok knocking around bad guys with his sledgehammer fists, I guarantee you’ll have a consistently good time.

Closed Circuit (1978)

Metaphysical meets procedural in this fiendishly clever made-for-Italian-TV mystery set almost entirely in a movie theatre where a murder unfolds during a matinee screening of a Spaghetti Western. Moves like a Buñuelian giallo. The dream would be to pair this with Anguish.

A Tale of Sorrow and Sadness (1977)

Japanese maverick Seijun Suzuki returned to filmmaking after a decade-long blacklist with this biting, stylistically dazzling and characteristically surreal attack on consumerism, corporate exploitation, and celebrity culture. Even more wildly relevant today in our media-saturated landscape.

Winter Kept Us Warm (1965)

David Secter’s early queer black-and-white indie about the friendship between a campus senior and freshman that turns romantic. Tenderly observed and sincerely acted. A key influence on David Cronenberg, who was Secter’s classmate.

Heavenly Bodies (1984)

Sticking with Canada for a moment…. An irresistibly cheesy Flashdance wannabe but make it aerobics. Gloriously ‘80s in every way. Wall-to-wall synth-blasted montages, capped with an incredible They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?-style dance-off. Cynthia Dale carried!

Film Geek (2023)

Filmmaker Richard Sheppard (The Linguini Incident) unpacks his childhood as a budding cinephile through the lens of his relationship with his father. Thoroughly infectious personal memoir, stacked with clips, from your usual suspects to some nice deeper, watchlist-ready cuts. Distinctly New York, but instantly relatable if you’ve ever been a young movie obsessive.