The Best Performances Of The Year Were Black

The headline of my end-of-year column hasn’t changed since I started compiling the best of the best in film a few years ago. The Best Performances of 2025 are Black, just like they were in 2024 and 2023, and so on. Black performers consistently raise the bar. They are great because they have to be, and especially in a year when we saw Hollywood roll back DEI commitments and descend into a hellscape where Black actors had to defend themselves from being called “DEI hires” for simply working while Black, these performances cut through the noise and let the work speak for itself. 

In 2025, there were so many Black performers who met the challenge of being excellent in the face of an industry that is actively trying to erase them. They took the gravity (or levity) of their material and elevated what was on the page to make it even better. In a year that tested us all — seriously, we barely survived — through their work these artists gave us so much, a reprieve from the hellscape of our social feeds and portrayals of the human experience that revealed a little more about ourselves. Every awards season, I remind you that while we’ve long since divested from the gatekeeping archaic institutions that consistently exclude Black folks from legacy awards, giving recognition where it’s due still matters. 

When Sinners was undoubtedly (when it came to box office performance and cultural impact) the movie of the year, and yet still is left off of multiple (white) critics’ year-end lists and awards predictions, it’s more and more evident that we need to uplift our own (let’s not forget that winning an NAACP Image Award should be just as big of an honor as getting an Oscar). We must acknowledge the best Black performances beyond the one or two actors that legacy awards deem worthy of being their annual token, albeit deserved, inclusions. We refuse to settle for crumbs. We get to exist in a timeline where a multitude of Black artistic expressions are celebrated. ‘Tis the season to look back on the best of the best of the year and the best, as always, is Black as hell — whether they get accolades from certain governing bodies or not.

These are the performances I've been yelling at you about all year. So, here is my exhaustive, definitive, and still not long enough list of 2025’s best Black film performances. 

Five years ago, I wrote a piece called “Shouldn’t Michael B. Jordan Have An Oscar Nomination By Now?.” In it, I argued that Jordan was long overdue for a nomination for an Academy Award. In 2020, the MBJ role in contention was his performance as real-life social justice lawyer Bryan Stevenson in Just Mercy. Despite being one of the most famous, talented, bankable heartthrobs in Hollywood, he hasn’t garnered the same accolades his contemporaries of past generations had at his age (see DiCaprio, Damon, Cruise, Pitt). It may be five years late, but Jordan is finally in contention for a Best Actor nod for his portrayal of Smoke and Stack, the prodigal twins of Sinners. I bring up Jordan’s awards chances not because I think a nomination or win would impact the quality of his work, but because after these performances, he deserves every accolade available to him in this industry. As Smoke and Stack, Jordan shows off range many of his detractors will swear he doesn’t have. In each scene, with a tilt of his head or the looseness of his swagger, Jordan carves out each twin’s mannerisms uniquely enough that you are rooting for Smoke while holding your breath waiting for Stack to mess things up, and subtly enough that it’s clear the brothers are inseparable and to an untrained eye, sometimes indecipherable. 

It takes a lot of skill to carry an ambitious masterpiece like Sinners. And to put it simply, the film does not work without the precision and thoughtfulness of Jordan’s performances. We’ve been watching him grow as an actor since he was coming of age in All My Children, The Wire, and Friday Night Lights, to young powerhouse showings in Fruitvale Station and Creed. Then, there were the bonafide blockbusters in Creed II and Black Panther. Jordan has proven — repeatedly –  that he’s earned his status as a Movie Star. Sinners is proof he’s done something so many of his peers only dream of: reached his potential and surpassed it.

Yes, I am one of the few critics who actually liked Wicked: For Good. I stand by my review of the film, which argued that while the movie is the weaker half in the two-part adaptation of the Broadway musical, it did right by its source material and delivered a thrilling, emotional, and endearing conclusion. And about Erivo, who is undoubtedly the best Elphaba of all time, I wrote, “many headlines about Wicked: For Good have focused on Ariana Grande, and while it’s true she is great in this sequel and that it’s more Glinda’s movie than Elphaba’s, Erivo is still firing on all cylinders, delivering a timeless performance that is also worthy of unadulterated praise. Throughout Wicked: For Good, Elphaba goes from fugitive freedom fighter, to heartbroken friend and exasperated sister, to frustrated revolutionary, to lover in mourning, to resigned martyr. It’s a depressing arc that sees the optimism of progressivism dashed with a big dose of witch-melting water. The simplicity of the message — that doing good comes at a cost, that no matter your intentions, things don’t always work in your favor, and that facism may take on a new face but it’s an ever-present threat — is the point.” 

The Wicked instalments are going to go down in history as two of the biggest movies of this decade, if not the century, and that will largely be because Cynthia Erivo gave us an unforgettable and undeniable Elphaba.

Not to keep quoting myself but this is what I wrote about Hedda in my review back in October: “Set in 1950s England, as the party devolves into shambles — mostly orchestrated by Hedda herself — Hedda goes from a simmering conversation about what happens to a woman bound by her circumstances to a sexy psychological thriller about class, power, and ambition. As the events of the evening unfold, Hedda becomes more and more quietly unhinged and Tessa Thompson is so magnetic, oozing with charisma, that you can’t look away and you can’t help but root for one of the messiest women in cinematic history. I like to think of this column as my own Oscars. The Academy is going to deem their own “best of the best” come March 2026, and while Tessa Thompson’s name should definitely be on that ballot, in this space, I get to say what’s the best of the year and I am telling you — unequivocally — that Hedda is one of the best films and performances of the past year. Period.” 

As mentioned above, Sinners is Michael B. Jordan's showcase. But it's more than just a vehicle for MBJ's movie stardom or a Southern gothic horror flick like it’s been billed. It is that, but it’s also an enthusiastic musical, a consequential period drama, and an earnest romance. It’s the latter that piqued my interest the most, and its execution is swoon-inducing. I already knew Wunmi Mosaku was a star, but in this role, she’s assertive, luminous and so damn sexy. Annie is the heart of Sinners. She’s also its hero.  “I like to think of Annie as Smoke’s other other half, like Stack is,” Mosaku said when we interviewed her in April. “Stack is one side of him, but Annie is another side of him. She's his protector, lover, mother, safe place. She is his sanctuary.” Annie’s knowledge of the spiritual world also saves everyone’s — including Smoke’s — asses. “She moves with purpose. She moves with strength and power. She has such an anchored spirit and is so in tune with the other stuff that we can't see or feel or hear. She sees and feels and hears it.”

I’m ready to be right about After The Hunt. It might take a few years, but I swear this film will outlive its discourse. The Luca Guadagnino-directed drama documents a moment in time — a disturbing, delicate, and awkward moment in time, one that we are still navigating. And for better or worse, shouldn’t we have art that reflects these times? That’s what I wrote at the time of the film’s release and I stand by it: “With time, After The Hunt may hold up as a page to be read in the chapter of this so-called cultural reckoning. Think of it as a sleek and uncomfortable time capsule of the past half decade of #MeToo discourse, or as a character study of flawed intellectuals desperately attempting to perform their values while clinging to the facade of their respective identities. Or, as Ayo Edebiri told me, After The Hunt is a “Rorschach test” that interrogates your discomfort.

And it's in that discomfort where Edebiri and the rest of the cast (Andrew Garfield and Julia Roberts are both excellent as usual) shine. If you've seen The Bear or Bottoms, you know Edebiri is a star who can play awkward better than anyone. It was this role that reminded me that she's going to be around for a very long time. Going toe-to-toe with icon Roberts without flinching and sparring effortlessly with Oscar nominee Garfield, Edebiri in After The Hunt is one of those star-making performances that we'll look back on in awe.

David Jonsson doesn't get enough credit for being one of the most exciting and talented working actors of his generation. I officially fell in love with him in Rye Lane, one of the best rom-coms of the past decade, and this year, he showed versatility and depth in his choices. In The Long Walk, Jonsson anchors the film’s brutal premise: a near-future America where teenage boys volunteer for a televised endurance contest that demands they keep walking above the minimum speed or face lethal consequences. Jonsson’s performance is achingly vulnerable. As the miles stack up and the rules tighten (three warnings, then you’re shot), Jonsson charts the slow erosion of bravado into something far more fragile.

As realization sets in that survival isn’t just about strong legs, it’s about memory, friendship, and the will to keep choosing the next step, Jonsson is especially magnetic in the quieter stretches, trading jokes with fellow walkers (and delivering electric chemistry with Cooper Hoffman) at dawn, bargaining with himself as the road narrows, and letting grief and resolve flicker across his face when the crowd’s cheers turn hollow. Rather than leaning into the spectacle of the contest, Jonsson makes the walk feel personal. With each warning comes a small heartbreak and each mile an excruciating decision. grounding the dystopia in intimacy and reminding us that the most powerful performances don’t outrun the story; they walk straight through it.

It's still baffling to me that Bong Joon Ho's Mickey 17 flopped because it's so weird and wonderful, and the kind of original movie from one of the greatest living directors that we need more of. But I refuse to let people forget about Naomi Ackie's performance as Nasha, the love interest to Pattinson’s aloof Mickey. Nasha is wild, extremely weird, and an enforcer in a futuristic universe where civilian space travel to another planet sets it apart from our current reality, but a psychotic tyrannical politician with a god complex (Mark Ruffalo’s Kenneth Marshall) makes it feel eerily familiar.

Here's what I wrote back in March: "While Mickey 17 is, by all accounts, a showcase of Pattinson’s unquantifiable talent, it’s also a stunning display of how reliably formidable Naomi Ackie is. She’s one of the brightest talents working right now, and the weirder she gets, the more wonderful it is to watch. Mickey is clueless, compliant, and a bit dense. Nasha is clever, confident, and fearless. Nasha could easily be relegated to a girlfriend-of-the-hero stereotype, a disposable plot device, but in Bong’s script, she’s assertive, motivated, and layered. And in Ackie’s hands, Nasha leaps off the page and dazzles on screen."

After captivating audiences as Franklin Saint in Snowfall, Damson Idris had cemented himself as a young actor to watch in Hollywood. He shifted gears — literally — into high-octane territory with his leading role in F1, the Formula 1 racing film from director Joseph Kosinski and co-starring Brad Pitt. I didn't love F1, but it was one of the biggest movies of the year and the things that do work about the film are thanks in large part to Idris, who brings charisma and surprising vulnerability to his portrayal of hotshot driver Joshua Pierce.

Whether he's embodying a South Central kingpin or donning a racing suit opposite Hollywood heavyweights, Idris brings depth, precision, and a quiet confidence that continues to set him apart. And as Unbothered's very own Christa Eduafo found out when she sat down with him earlier this year in New York City, the actor is well aware that his Black female fanbase bet big on Damson Idris stock early. And with F1, it's clear our investment has paid off.

The Black women characters in One Battle After Another have elicited divisive responses. Some critics have written off Teyana Taylor's Perfidia Beverly Hills as a sexualized stereotype with limited screen time and an underdeveloped character arc. In her Black Girl Watching Substack, Brooke Obie writes, "Black women are little more than props and plot devices" and that "[director Paul Thomas] Anderson isn't commenting on the white male fetishization of Black women, he's directly participating in it." While Angelica Jade Bastien for Vulture says, "The Black women of the film are lightning rods for the most forceful conversations the film can bear, and it’s thrilling to watch them embody what Anderson’s script can only loosely hold."

There's a lot to say about how Paul Thomas Anderson depicts Perfidia, Chase Infiniti's Willa, and Regina Hall's Deandra (I agree mostly with both Obie and Bastien and their reviews are required supplementary reading material post-watch of OBAA), but of all the critiques of the execution of the lofty ideas of revolution that PTA puts forth in the film, nothing negative can be said about the performances given by these three enigmatic actors. Infiniti is the breakout of the film, playing an almost grown up Willa (the daughter of DiCaprio's Pat and Taylor's Perfidia) with quiet resolve and appropriate teen angst. It's one of the most stunning breakout performances I've ever seen and Infiniti should have her pick of roles in the aftermath of this movie's success.

As for Hall and Taylor, we knew how talented they were — though in different mediums: Taylor as an artist, dancer, and creative director and Hall as a comedic genius. In this film, even if I wish the material lived up to their efforts, both are able to showcase their abilities to give grounding, affecting, dramatic performances. Deandra and Perfidia are in conversation with each other, showing two sides of how to be a revolutionary, and Hall and Taylor's performances are striking. While Perfidia is loud, brash, emotional, reckless, and boisterous, Deandra is methodical, focused, and intentional. One Battle After Another has been hailed as PTA's greatest masterpiece and don't get me wrong, I do think the movie is a triumph, but let's be clear on why it's great: Chase Infiniti, Teyana Taylor and Regina Hall.

Superman was one of my favorite movies of the year. And while the main cast trio of David Corenswet, Rachel Brosnahan, and Nicholas Hoult, Edi Gathegi’s Mister Terrific was a surprising delight. Mister Terrific emerges as one of Superman’s smartest anchors, threading intellect through a story preoccupied with power, trust, and what the world expects its heroes to be. As the film tracks Clark Kent navigating a public increasingly skeptical of Superman's unchecked strength — while Lex Luthor’s machinations test the limits of truth, tech, and influence — Gathegi’s Mister Terrific operates in the grey area where ethics meet engineering. He’s the one parsing data while everyone else argues optics, designing solutions as Superman wrestles with the cost of being a symbol.

Mister Terrific is decisive, grounding the film’s big ideals in method and consequence. Gathegi plays him as a moral mathematician, weighing outcomes with calm authority, so when the plot pivots from spectacle to strategy, his presence feels essential. It’s a performance that could have easily gone unnoticed, but Gathegi makes it unforgettable.

Andre Holland gives Rachael Abigail Holder’s Love, Brooklyn its bruised, beating heart, turning a deceptively small story about dating in the city into something quietly expansive. As Roger, a writer drifting between relationships, neighborhoods, and versions of himself, Holland captures the ache of romantic limbo with a performance that’s all soft edges and sharp self-awareness.

The film unfolds across intimate Brooklyn spaces — apartments that feel borrowed, late-night conversations that blur into morning, chance encounters that reopen old wounds — as Roger navigates his lingering bond with his ex (Nicole Beharie) and a tentative new connection (DeWanda Wise). Holland plays these emotional crosscurrents with exquisite restraint, letting hesitation, guilt, and longing flicker across his face before a single word lands. What makes his work so compelling is how deeply he understands the film’s thesis: that love isn’t always about grand declarations, but about timing, honesty, and the courage to stop hiding in the in-between. In Holland’s hands, Roger is funny, charming, frustrating, and achingly recognizable; he's a man learning, step by step, how to choose presence over comfort. Holland doesn't get enough credit for consistently delivering devastating and entertaining performances.

Susan Chardy gives On Becoming a Guinea Fowl its emotional spine, guiding us through Rungano Nyoni’s darkly surreal reckoning with family silence and collective denial. As Shula, Chardy moves through the aftermath of her uncle’s sudden death — discovered on a roadside at night — and the elaborate funeral rituals that follow, where aunties organize, gossip circulates, and everyone seems determined to smooth over the past rather than confront it.

While the film slips between realism and dreamlike interludes (guinea fowl skittering through memory, musical detours that feel like pressure valves), Chardy remains piercingly grounded, registering the weight of long-buried truths about abuse and complicity without ever spelling them out. Watch how she listens at the kitchen table, how her stillness cuts through the noise of ceremony, how her face hardens almost imperceptibly as the cost of silence becomes clear. Chardy doesn’t just play a woman at a funeral, she embodies the exhaustion of being awake in a room determined to keep sleeping, making Shula’s quiet resistance the film’s most radical act.

After Da'Vine Joy Randolph won the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actress for The Holdovers, I was so excited to see her move into starring roles that were worthy of her talent. Playing secondary to Miles Teller in a rom-com starring Elizabeth Olsen wasn't exactly what I had in mind. But Eternity surprised me, and Randolph is exceptional in it. This is what I wrote about the film last month: "Anna, the character, could easily fall into the magical negro trope, a one-note sidekick there in service of the white lead, but in Randolph’s hands (and thanks to her hysterical dynamic with Joan’s AC Ryan played by John Early), she’s more than that. Anna is the film’s constant comedic relief, and she’s also its moral center, a grounding force that’s there to remind Larry of the life he built with Joan for decades, while making us laugh repeatedly. That’s the power of Da’Vine Joy Randolph."

I couldn't end this list without mentioning Delroy Lindo and Miles Caton in Sinners. These two performances — one by a seasoned actor who has a career full of riveting characters, and the other by a brand new talent whose future is so blindingly bright — are just as integral to the success of Sinners as Jordan's portrayal of Smoke and Stack or Mosaku's Annie.

Lindo plays Delta Slim, a boozy blues musician who reluctantly agrees to play at the twins new juke joint. Caton's Sammie is an aspiring musician who is eager to join his cousin in their new business venture. Both are at opposite ends of their musical pursuits, just like Caton and Lindo are at very different moments in their careers. But both characters are bound by their love of the blues, and their allegiance to their communities. While Sammie is naive, impatient, and yearning for adulthood, Delta Slim is wise, heedless yeet unflappable, and the surprising steady voice when the juke joint descends into chaos.

In a perfect world, both Lindo and Caton would be swatting away awards for these performances, but whether or not they are showered with the praise and accolades they deserve, both actors gave two of the most exhilarating performances on screen in 2025.