movies
09/23/2026
i watched 300 movies in a year
growing up, i wasn't really interested in movies. i only watched them with friends, and i've still never seen the classics like titanic, forrest gump, or inception. but on july 1, 2025, i watched the grand budapest hotel, and then continued to watch at least one movie every day, until i had reached 100 in two and a half months. a year later, i had logged 300 feature-length films.
how did i get into movies? was the grand budapest hotel really that life-changing? i'm not sure... i've been thinking about it, and i've come up with three contributing factors.
1. time obviously, watching movies takes time. it's like making a promise to pay attention to one thing for two hours. the combined runtime for the 300 movies was 30,587 minutes, or 6% of my entire year. it'd be equivalent to spending one month watching movies for 16 hours every day and sleeping during the other 8.
for most of my life, i was preoccupied with school and work. i only began to feel like i had free time once i graduated in 2023 and started a regular 9-5. i have a bit of an obsessive personality, so i was working on my personal website every day for about two years. after that, i tried out a few habits, like journaling, reading, and drawing, but nothing stuck. in the first week of july 2025, i realized i had been on a movie-watching streak, so i decided to keep going.
2. experiences i didn't realize how personal movies could be, until i watched perfect days, about a man named hirayama (koji yakusho), presumably in his 60s, working as a toilet cleaner for the tokyo toilet project. it's set in shibuya, surrounding areas of the tokyo toilets – a privately-funded public toilet project started by koji yanai, who brought 16 renowned designers to address pain points and innovate the city's toilets in preparation for the 2020 olympics.
before the film came out, i had developed a fascination with the project. during our school's reading week in february 2023, 0399 and i went to tokyo. i watched yanai's guest lecture at harvard, and we tried to visit as many of the toilets as possible. later that year, perfect days premiered at cannes, and i moved to new york. we planned to watch the movie together when she visited in 2024.
"i didn't know movies could be like that," i said to her as we came out of the theatre. it felt like real life... hirayama's everyday routines and struggles were honest and relatable, unlike the flashy hollywood movies i was used to. it was my first time seeing something so grounded and reassuring on the big screen.
that summer, 0112, who's been into films for a long time, also visited. one night, we were talking about movies, and she gave me over 50 recommendations. later on the plane, i watched decision to leave (2022) and perfect blue (1997) from her list. i feel like sharing movies is a window into how other people see you, and an invitation to understand the other person more. it's also like an asynchronous joint experience.
in the fall, i watched the live action adaptation of nana (2005). i loved it so much that the next weekend, i made 0427 rewatch it with me. it has everything i like – pretty girls, rock music, and vivienne westwood! i think nana is one of my favourite movies because it feels like a part of me, and sometimes it's as simple as that.
3. apps, algorithms & access around early 2025, i started seeing more posts recommending films on twitter – mostly japanese films, paired with cinematic stills that drew me in. i'd sometimes bookmark and watch them later. from this period of time, where i was watching maybe one a month, the films that stand out to me the most are all about lily chou chou (2001), microhabitat (2017), the taste of tea (2004), and i'm a cyborg, but that's OK (2006), which remain some of my all-time favourites.
i started using letterboxd to casually keep track of movies i'd watched. over time, i think the act of logging made me subconsciously want to log more. it's a little dopamine hit, feeling like i finished something, even though all i did was just sit still.
on top of that, now that i had moved to the US, films were more accessible than ever. free movies on the official youtube movies channel, tubi, roku, plex, pluto, fawesome, xumo play, philo, fandango – all streaming platforms i had never heard of in canada. to this day, it still blows my mind how many movies are available legally in the US. not to mention how many independent theatres there are in NYC!
i will never run out of movies "how do you find these movies?" people often ask. but i think for most avid film watchers, the issue isn't finding films, it's finding the time to watch them. at first, i aimed to just go through the filmographies of a few directors and actors, as well as a handful of recommendations, and then go on with my life. but every movie always leads to another, whether it's a shared cast or crew member, or a stronger interest in films of a specific era, country, movement, or theme.
film #1: the grand budapest hotel
i decided to watch the grand budapest hotel because of a film analysis video that 0482 shared, which opens with youtuber thomas flight talking about the building we worked in. it was my first wes anderson film, and i loved the oversaturated colour palette combined with the fast-paced storytelling. within the 300 movies, i went on to watch five more of his works: #3 the royal tenenbaums, #5 asteroid city, #28 fantastic mr. fox, #83 isle of dogs, and #247 moonrise kingdom (as well as the wonderful story of henry sugar, whose runtime wasn't long enough to formally include here). his films are generally family-friendly with feel-good resolutions, which make them easy to enjoy with others.
even though his work spans live action and animation, is shot around the world, and focuses on a range of characters, wes anderson's distinct art style shines through. in part, not just due to recurring actors like bill murray and jason schwartzman, but also longtime collaborators like roman coppola, owen wilson, cinematographers robert yeoman and tristan oliver, production designer adam stockhausen, and composer alexander desplat – just to name a few! for a period of time, whenever i couldn't fall asleep, i'd listen to wes anderson reminisce fondly about working with these people in his 55 minute vanity fair interview.
film #18: an elephant sitting still
as much as i love the colours of wes anderson's fairytale worlds, there is something about hu bo's greys that moves me in a different way. after learning that the film was released posthumously after the director took his own life, 0427 and i sat down on a saturday afternoon to watch his last work. with a nearly four hour runtime, an elephant sitting still was the longest film i had ever seen at the time. but it was just enough to get a glimpse into the characters' lives, and how they're all intertwined in this northern chinese town. the sustained takes, paired with hualun's expansive guitar melodies, immersed me from start to finish.
geographically, an elephant sitting still takes us from shijiazhuang to manzhouli, near the china-russia border and mongolia. it's one of the films that introduced me to some of china's broader landscapes, followed by #160 black dog on the edge of the gobi desert, and #244 the breaking ice in yanji, bordering north korea. it made me less intimidated to watch longer movies like #61 love exposure and #95 a brighter summer day, both 237 minutes. and, it was how i started paying attention to greys in movies, like #189 paranoid park and #298 the iron ministry.
film #275: all about lily chou chou (rewatch) shunji iwai is a big part of how i became interested in movies. on february 14, 2025, i watched all about lily chou chou for the first time, and then hana & alice two days later. all about lily chou chou became my favourite movie, but i had a hard time (and still do) answering when people asked why. maybe because i used to think i preferred happy endings, but this one left me sitting with a mix of feelings i wasn't used to. or because of the way the characters talk on the internet and what music means to them, it reminded me of myself. the world is fucked up, but there's still beauty in it.
so when i started my movie streak in july, i watched as many of his films as possible: #8 picnic, #21 fried dragon fish, #23 april story, #24 ghost soup, #33 love letter, #34 a bride for rip van winkle, #35 new york, i love you, #36 undo, #37 fireworks, should we see it from the side or the bottom?, #49 swallowtail butterfly, #51 the kon ichikawa story, #60 the 12 day tale of the monster that died in 8, #100 last letter (2020), #162 chang-ok's letter, #200 last letter (2018), #271 hana & alice (rewatch), #273 the case of hana & alice, and #276 all about "all about lily chou chou." if you include hideaki anno's #59 ritual, where he played the role of a director, that adds up to 20 works i've seen where he directed, co-directed, or acted in.
towards the end of my 300 movies, shunji iwai himself came to new york! the metrograph was screening a few of his films in honour of all about lily chou chou's 25th anniversary, and the new 4K restoration of love letter. tickets sold out quick – i was lucky to see him in person for an intro to hana & alice, where he spoke fondly of his collaboration with the late cinematographer noboru shinoda, who no doubt had a big influence across many of iwai's cinematic universes. and, i finally got to see all about lily chou chou on the big screen!
film #41: honey and clover the first two shunji iwai movies i watched, all about lily chou chou and hana & alice, were also my first two yu aoi movies. i loved seeing her, so anything she's in became an instant add to my watchlist. we also have the same birthday! she's all over the 300 movies: #13 one million yen girl, #32 welcome to the quiet room, #58 birds without names, #62 patisserie coin de rue, #93 harmful insect, #138 turtles are surprisingly fast swimmers, #215 worst by chance, #223 haruko azumi is missing, #254 tokyo!, #268 tekkonkinkreet, #271 hana & alice, #273 the case of hana & alice, #275 all about lily chou chou, and #276 all about "all about lily chou chou."
i picked honey and clover as one of my favourite yu aoi movies because it's truly a comfort movie for me. i watched it twice during the streak. it reminded me of art school – that period of time where you're focused on producing your own work, figuring out what you want to pursue alongside other students. crushes, side jobs, spontaneous trips to the beach with friends... my favourite scene was when hagu and morita end up in a scrapyard-like area on campus and paint on a discarded billboard together. i didn't want it to end! and, there is a black cat that mysteriously appears from time to time.
film #71: taste of cherry after perfect days and an elephant sitting still, i realized that i kind of liked the existential yet realistic perspectives of old people. so i saw my first abbas kiarostami film, taste of cherry, which follows a badii, a man driving around tehran looking for someone to help bury him after planning to overdose on sleeping pills. but unlike the cold, grey atmospheres i'm usually drawn to, taste of cherry is warm and dry. at times, it can feel stifling, and i can understand why badii wants to leave – and then i see the orange sunset, and maybe everything is okay.
we aren't told much about his personal life and what lead him here. almost like it doesn't matter whether he had a tragic backstory, or was in a mess of his own making. sometimes wanting to die doesn't come with a clear explanation. part of what makes this film so powerful to me is that he probably could have done it entirely by himself, but he was determined to find someone to help. was he hoping to be talked out of it? did he want company in his last days? or was he just wanting to quietly end his life, with assurance that everything afterward would be taken care of?
it was a solid introduction to iranian cinema for me, and his other works: #99 where is the friend's house?, #144 like someone in love, #146 close-up, #157 life, and nothing more..., and #190 certified copy, as well as matthew rankin's #111 universal language, a modern homage to kiarostami.
film #89: gummo another film that came out in 1997, gummo is possibly one of the realest pictures of america i've ever seen. at 23, this was harmony korine's directorial debut. he wasn't concerned with a traditional plot, and cast mostly non-actors essentially being themselves. growing up, my side of the internet was littered with images of bunny boy and derivative photoshoots. that's really all it takes for me to be interested in a movie – an image.
it speaks for itself, and i haven't watched anything else that made me feel anything similar, but i did like these late 90s/early 00s films centred around life in america: #44 requiem for a dream, #45 thirteen, #206 the virgin suicides, and korine's #218 julien donkey-boy.
film #132: happyend i think it's harder for me to appreciate movies from the 2020s because i'm currently in it. when you're living through a decade, it feels oversaturated... when you're looking back, it's more curated. happyend is one of the few modern movies that brings a fresh perspective while still feeling relatable. it follows a high school friend group as they sneak into a show, steal equipment for their subwoofer club, and mastermind senior pranks, all against the backdrop of surveillance, immigration, earthquakes, and the uncertainty of eventually going separate ways. it's also just a really well crafted film – i loved the art direction and sound design, and every shot feels so considered.
born in 1991, neo sora is part of a relatively new generation of filmmakers making their mark on contemporary cinema, like hong sung-eun (1988) with #122 aloners, celine song (1988) #256 with past lives, and bi gan (1989) with #279 resurrection.
film #135: angel's egg
i had been waiting until november 2025 for the theatrical release of angel's egg 4K restoration, distributed by GKIDS, which i convinced 0427 and 0486 to see with me. being in a dark theatre hit different – seeing all the details of yoshitaka amano's detailed artwork, every strand of hair and ripple of water on the big screen. our auditorium was so quiet, each sound felt like an echo. i was so immersed in the shadowy, futuristic world, and shattered at the film's climax. when it ended, 0486 asked us what we thought the egg represented. i thought it was the girl's hopes and dreams, while he theorized it was an alien.
honorable mentions to the first mamoru oshii film i saw, #27 ghost in the shell, as well as other egg-centred movies #107 alien (1979) and #229 egg (2005).
film #141: survive style 5+ one of my favourite subgenres might just have to be weird japanese movies. when i say "weird," i'm talking about movies that feel like imagination gone wild... stories you don't see in real life, visually interesting art direction, characters having genuine and unserious fun. western movies can do this too – think #7 the cat in the hat (2003), #216 strawberry mansion, or #243 dream scenario (and michel gondry! i will talk more about him later), but somehow movies from japan just take the cake in this category for me: #14 tamala 2010: a punk cat in space, #69 cutie honey, #138 turtles are surprisingly fast swimmers, and #248 pastoral: to die in the country, to name a few.
survive style 5+ encapsulates everything i could ever ask for in a weird movie. nonsensical sets like a red house filled with eye-themed decor, a dad that turns into a bird, an ad exec flashing through ideas for commercials such as a person with two faces arguing about what to order at a restaurant. from start to finish, i had a blast and could never guess what would happen next.
film #143: goth j-horror is another subgenre i got into during this streak. as a kid, i was drawn to creepy-looking things, but too scared to watch horror movies by myself. now that i'm older, horror movies are like spicy food – my tolerance has increased, but i'll avoid it if it seems like something i can't handle. i like watching for the unsettling feeling and overall atmosphere they're able to create, which japanese movies do really well.
goth is the perfect example of my type of "horror" movie, where it doesn't feel like the director sought out to scare the audience. it's not a traditional genre film, but it employs horror aesthetics as a core aspect of the story. the visual sensibilities and subtle renderings of darkness mixed with the characters' ambiguous motivations hit the nail on the head for me. in a similar realm, i'd put #42 uzumaki (2000), which takes place in its own green-toned world, and #147 humanist vampire seeking consenting suicidal person, which explores dynamics of fear and trust among the two protagonists.
film #152: daisies daisies broke my definition of a movie. it was like the world was věra chytilová's canvas, where she could do whatever she wanted, and the film itself is a cheeky rebellion of everything girls are expected to be. after learning that scenes of food waste – such as using men to get meals they don't finish and destroying an extravagant feast – contributed to the film's ban in czechoslovakia out of perceived disregard for the working class, and that chytilová was later banned from filmmaking herself, i became even more interested in czech new wave cinema.
in the movement, i went on to watch #153 the firemen's ball, banned for its satire of czechoslovak communist society, #154 valerie and her week of wonders, and #156 morgiana, whose director juraj herz was later also banned from filmmaking after authorities deemed the film too "sadomasochistic."
film #169: fantastic planet
after finding a small projector in my parents' basement, i took it back to my apartment so we could cast movies onto the ceiling to watch while lying down. on these movie nights, 0427 often asks, word-for-word, "can we watch a whimsical animation?" and so, one of the first few films we watched this way was fantastic planet, which has to be one of the ultimate "whimsical animations" for me. i especially love the opening scene and how the entire film plays with scale, it lowkey flipped my whole perception of humanity.
when i think of a good candidate for a ceiling movie, it doesn't have to be a cinematic masterpiece, but it should be cozy and fun! (otherwise, i might fall asleep...) i also enjoyed watching these on the projector: #175 fantasia, #245 my life as a zucchini, #249 dave gorman's googlewhack adventure, and #259 microcosmos.
film #194: reprise i didn't watch joachim trier's oslo trilogy in order. the first film i saw was #94 oslo, august 31st (2011), then reprise (2006) and #277 the worst person in the world (2021), with his newest film #266 sentimental value (2025) in between. i don't know how to describe his works, other than to say they are about life... and that i feel like he understands human nature on another level. his characters are always so multidimensional and well-written.
so far, my favourite is reprise, which follows phillip and erik, two best friends in their 20s who are aspiring novelists. i really enjoyed how its non-linear storytelling took me on a whirlwind of what-ifs and possibilities of where their relationships and careers could go. and the references – there is a party scene where "deceptacon" by le tigre plays and a playtime (film #198) poster in erik's bedroom! plus, sten egil dahl, a fictional writer the protagonists are fans of, gets a subtle nod in sentimental value, with his name appearing on a plaque in the background.
film #234: pulse i grew up spending a lot of time on the computer (and still do), so movies about the internet are special to me. films like #178 haru (1996) and pulse (2001) explored possibilities of human connection and isolation in the earlier days of the web. there's something about watching people use the internet for the first time that is so entertaining – in pulse, there's a scene where college student ryosuke attempts to install a browser, only for images of people to start appearing on his computer. he ends up asking CS student harue for help, and she suggests bookmarking the page or taking a screenshot of it, which still don't work.
in today's internet landscape, i feel like jane schoenbrun is one of the few directors that really understands my generation: #90 we're all going to the world's fair, #230 i saw the TV glow, and #231 a self-induced hallucination continue navigating the new stories and relationships that form digitally.
film #238: the science of sleep when i was 16, i watched eternal sunshine of the spotless mind on a day off from my summer job. many years later, i returned to michel gondry's work after seeing the science of sleep mentioned online. we played it on the ceiling right before going to bed, and it was straight out of a dream. i've seen several films try to capture the feeling of dreaming, but this one resonated with me the most. i loved being in the "mind" of the main character, stéphane, and seeing the world from his perspective. his chaotic decisions were so fun to watch unfold, and i enjoyed the mix of french, english, and spanish spoken throughout.
everything is brought together with gondry's surreal signature style and handmade charm, also evident in later films: #254 tokyo!, #263 mood indigo, and #264 is the man who is tall happy?
film #240: exit 8 for the north american release of exit 8, NEON brought yamato kochi, the "walking man" actor, to NYC! i spent an hour on wednesday morning running around the subway station with a group of people i had just met, trying to find him. when we finally did, he was handing out exit 8 themed gift cards out of his briefcase. then on friday, i went to a Q&A screening with genki kawamura and yamato kochi.
the film is based on the game of the same name, which kawamura played and watched streams of, aiming to make the audience feel both like they were playing and watching at times. the premise of being stuck in a subway kind of felt like a metaphor for my life, and i learned that the crew actually created two identical subway sets to achieve the looping effect, with kochi biking between them off-camera to re-enter the frame.
genki kawamura also appears on other credits among the 300 movies – he authored the book which #9 if cats disappeared from the world is based on, and he was a producer on multiple films: #87 your name., #100 last letter (2020), #102 monster, and #239 confessions.
film #261: you, the living i discovered roy andersson relatively late in the streak, but his work immediately felt up my alley. it reminded me that there are still many auteurs i haven't heard of yet. his consistent use of muted greys, browns, and blues, alongside deadpan humour and tons of symbolism, make me want to rewatch his films to gain a deeper understanding. he is most known for his "living trilogy," starting with #252 songs from the second floor (2000), you, the living (2007), a pigeon sat on a branch reflecting on existence (2014), and about endlessness (2019), which some consider to be a continuation of the trilogy.
as is typical andersson fashion, you, the living unfolds through a series of vignettes that peek into the lives of different people in the city. what struck me in this film specifically was the presence of dreams – a carpenter who is sentenced to the electric chair for breaking dinnerware during a failed tablecloth trick, a girl who dreams of marrying her favourite rockstar... and the dixieland jazz combined with seemingly hopeless scenarios is just really incomparable.
film #268: tekkonkinkreet tekkonkinkreet was the first movie i've ever watched alone at a theatre. for its 20th anniversary, GKIDS was doing a limited theatrical release across the US for two days – may 31 and june 1. that day, i was flying into denver for a work trip and had the evening free. when i saw the regal 5 minutes from our hotel was playing tekkonkinkreet, i couldn't pass up the chance.
i don't know why i used to see theatre-going as a strictly social activity. it's actually very comfortable alone, especially since people don't talk during movies. and tekkonkinkreet is a wild film to see on the big screen, the camera flies through the town and the art is incredibly detailed. but the heart of the story is the bond between kuro (kazunari ninomiya) and shiro (yu aoi!) anyways, this film is up there with the crazy animations, along with #112 mind game – which tekkonkinkreet animator shojiro nishimi also worked on – and #113 summer wars.
film #300: the woman who ran i have watched a handful of hong sang soo films so far, and i am still not really sure how i feel about them. on one hand, they are hard to watch, and on the other, they are really easy to watch. sometimes the characters are so frustrating and unlikeable, and other times that's what makes them feel so relatable. it's like watching a random stranger's videos shot on their iphone, i don't know why i should care, but somehow i get to the end and swipe to the next one.
i saw #22 claire's camera, #30 on the beach at night alone, #127 nobody's daughter haewon, and then finally the woman who ran. the idea of running away has always been appealing to me, but a little out of reach. however, the film isn't about literally running away – it follows a woman named gamhee who meets three of her friends while her husband is on a business trip. in an interview, hong says that the title could be interpreted to apply to any of the women there... and maybe that's why i felt especially close to these characters.
am i still watching movies? what started off as a fun little challenge in july of last year, ended up snowballing into a full-on obsession. so yes, for the foreseeable future, i will be continuing to make my way through filmographies and tune into new releases. but it's important for me to maintain a balance between creation and consumption – i've found that writing about movies does scratch that "creation" itch, though not enough on its own. i do have some thoughts i'd like to get out, like my personal rating system, and some film trends i enjoy... all that to say, we'll see!
