Read Watch Listen 2022
The roads are iced over in Austin this week, so I’m using this opportunity to round out my annual recap of the books, movies, and music I loved this year. In 2022, I had my fill of thrilling sci-fi, messy dramas, heartwarming romances, and artful albums to play on repeat. I’m always curious what media moved you this year, so leave a comment below, text me, tweet me, send snail mail, etc.
Read
I joined a book club this year! I usually have a hard time being told what to read but luckily this group has excellent taste and the lively discussions were well worth the risk of picking up some unknown titles. My two favorites were Tell Me an Ending by Jo Harkin (which brilliantly explores the compelling question, “If you could erase a traumatic memory, would you?”) and Sea of Tranquility by Emily St. John Mandel (about a time-travel glitch spanning multiple eras, including one marked by a pandemic that stretches as far as the moon). Other books we read were Pachinko by Min Jin Lee, American Spy by Lauren Wilkinson, and Fish Swimming in Dappled Sunlight by Riku Onda.
I finished quite a few personal reads as well, rounding out 2022 with 29 books (impressive for me, especially considering all my grad school reading). I started off the year with How to Identify Yourself With a Wound, a book of poetry by Austin writer KB. I also read Parable of the Talents, the second book in Octavia Butler’s bleak view of 2030s America and a young woman’s resolute vision of humanity’s future beyond the stars. Although I don’t agree with the harmful beliefs of She Who Must Not Be Named, I decided to borrow Troubled Blood from the library, the next book in the Cormoran Strike series. Unfortunately, I’m still quite attached to Robin and Strike’s endearing partnership as they solve yet another satisfyingly complex crime. The long-awaited rom-com, Honey & Spice, was every bit as warm, perceptive, and delicious as I’ve come to expect from Bolu Babalola’s writing. My last read of the year was Moon of the Crusted Snow by Native author Waubgeshig Rice, a compelling post-apocalpytic story about an Anishinaabe community surviving the first harsh winter after an unexplained nationwide blackout.
I listened to a LOT of non-fiction on audiobook this year. My favorite educational reads were The Color of Compromise by Jemar Tisby, a well-researched overview of the white evangelical church’s complicity in U.S. racism, and The Making of Asian America by Erika Lee, a fascinating remedial history from the 1500s until now.
Memoirs I loved this year include This Here Flesh by Cole Arthur Riley (creator of @blackliturgies on Instagram, and someone whose work is showing me a new way to engage with my faith, my body, and the world), All the White Friends I Couldn’t Keep by Andre Henry (an activist I admire who works from a sustainable source of hopefulness), ¡Hola Papi! by John Paul Brammer (an entertaining follow on Twitter and Substack), Sometimes I Trip On How Happy We Could Be by Nichole Perkins (former co-host of the beloved podcast, Thirst Aid Kit), All Boys Aren’t Blue by George M. Johnson, Son of Elsewhere by Elamin Abdelmahmoud, and Shoutin’ in the Fire by Danté Stewart.
Finally, I picked up a few graphic novels for the reading slumps along the way: Moomin Vol. 1 by Tove Jansson, Everything Is Teeth by Evie Wyld, Book 1 of Hakim’s Odyssey by Fabien Toulmé, Celestia by Manuele Fior, Dawn Land by Joseph Bruchac, and three short titles from Austin-based artist Tillie Walden (The End of Summer, I love this part, and A City Inside).
Watch
For some reason it’s always hardest to write the movie section. Maybe it’s the fear of Film Twitter or Letterboxd users coming for my amateur reviews or the fact that films tend to sink in more deeply with time and rewatches. Either way, here are my tentative thoughts on my favorites from 2022.
Kogonada, the thoughtful director of Columbus (which I included in my 2017 list), debuted his second feature at Sundance this year. After Yang is a contemplative science fiction film about a family grieving the loss of the lifelike AI they purchased to help their adoptive daughter remain connected to her Chinese heritage. What unfolds is a touching exploration of human nature, alternate forms of consciousness, grief, culture, and the contentment found when we remain present with the ones we love. It also challenges the tired sci-fi trope of robotic Asians.
I never understood the appeal of Swiss Army Man but when Daniels cast the legendary Michelle Yeoh in a trippy alternate reality romp, sending the film world into a tizzy, I knew I had to take the plunge. Everything Everywhere All At Once was a firehose of shocking imagination, uncontrollable laughter, dark truths, and tender tears. I stumbled out of the theater with an overstimulated brain and a full heart. It deserves all the hype it’s received and every accolade to come.
Jordan Peele’s Nope served up everything I love: aliens, horses, Steven Yeun, and an appropriate fear of monkeys. Daniel Kaluuya and Keke Palmer shone in their roles as siblings, and I’m still thrilled for Brandon Perea (formerly on The OA), whose audition was so good Peele rewrote the role for him. Speaking of aliens, I also adored Prey, a genius prequel to Predator in which a Comanche tribe fights like hell to survive cougars, cruel French colonizers, and the merciless alien hunting them for sport.
The rom-com Fire Island was a touching modern retelling of Pride & Prejudice that I plan on revisiting often (Bowen Yang’s character was precious and relatable). Marcel the Shell with Shoes On took all of the charm of the original video and lovingly expanded the classic character’s world and lore. What resulted was a tender meditation on loss, loneliness, and community, with several scenes that captured the awe of private existential realizations like lightning in a bottle. The Power of the Dog felt a bit overlooked with its Netflix release, so I recommend setting aside time for its carefully constructed tensions that leave you guessing until the end. Despite pacing that never moved beyond a crawl (and sometimes stopped altogether), I appreciated the deliberate weirdness of Memoria, the latest from Thailand’s most notable indie film director, Apichatpong Weerasethakul. Nicholas Cage played himself in The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent across Pedro Pascal as his giggly fanboy. I watched the cannibal romance movie, Bones and All, and while the violence was hard to stomach (though not overdone), I’m still moved by the miraculous safety they found in each other. In The Menu, a horror comedy about the gourmet food scene of the ultra-rich, Nicholas Hoult was delightfully horrid alongside the ferocious Anya Taylor-Joy. Colin Farrell’s eyebrows rounded out a busy year of film (After Yang, The Batman) with Banshees of Inisherin, a dark comedy about a one-sided friendship breakup set in a tiny Irish village where there’s nowhere to avoid each other.
For documentaries, I was touched by the vulnerability of Jonah Hill’s Stutz. The doc starts with him saying, “I want to make this film so people can hear my therapist’s ideas,” and ends with him realizing that he made it because his therapist changed his life and he loves him. The documentary Free Chol Soo Lee chronicles the failures of U.S. public education, mental health care, and the criminal justice system in the life of Chol Soo Lee, a young Korean-American man wrongly imprisoned for murder. However, it also shines brightly with stories of the pan-Asian movement of activism and the tenacious community that collaborated to free him.
Festivals! I finally returned to Austin Film Festival after missing the past few years. I didn’t see as many features as I was hoping due to car trouble and general grad school weariness, but here are the ones I liked most: Sam & Kate, Salma’s Home, Golden Delicious, and Welcome, Violeta! Of the few Austin Asian American Film Festival screenings I attended, Lucid was the most meaningful watch.
Other movies I enjoyed: Encanto, The Sea Beast, Turning Red, Kimi, Pig, The Batman, Nightmare Alley, The Bob’s Burgers Movie, Glass Onion, and Avatar: The Way of Water.
TV Shows
I kept putting off the finale of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine because I couldn’t bear to say goodbye to my family, but I finally worked up the courage so I could begin my TNG rewatch. I also embarked on my first real X-Files watch-through. Gotta cover all my sci-fi bases.
Besides these comforting standbys, several thrilling series swept me away this year. Station Eleven is a genius adaptation of Emily St. John Mandel’s pandemic novel (which I happened to read shortly before March 2020). Though some of the details are changed, it made me feel the same way I did reading the book: hurt and healing, devastated and hopeful, shocked to find such kindness and beauty in the aftermath of world-ending tragedy. The costume design added a whole new texture to the story, with Shakespearean actors adorned with pieces such as black puffer jacket sleeves to form a strange, spiny cloak. The show’s traumatized heroine is sensitively played by Mackenzie Davis in what seems to me the role of a lifetime (though I wish her a long and illustrious career).
I finally binged Succession early in the year and I miss those horrible people every day. Severance busted out of the gate with an unsettling first season uncovering the secrets of a company whose employees have opted to split their consciousness in a nightmarish version of work/life balance. For All Mankind explores an alternate history of the 1960s space race in which the Russians beat the Americans to the moon, thus extending the competition to the present. I came for the sci-fi but stayed for the complex character development as satisfying as Mad Men. I ended the year with White Lotus, a messy drama about the intertwining lives of entitled guests, long-suffering staff, and meddling locals at luxury resorts in Hawaii (season one) and Italy (season two). Oh, and did I mention the bodies discovered at the start of each season?
I watched more cult shows than is probably recommended for my mental health, but I’ve found it enlightening as I learn to discern the differences between healthy spirituality and high-control religion. Many are too heavy to recommend, but The Vow (about NXIVM) is probably the best I’ve seen so far because it expertly untangles the severe psychological manipulation necessary to confuse ethics and suffocate critical thinking. The Deep End covers an ongoing secular cult and features a private detective hired by the group’s leadership to debunk allegations, only for her to confirm that they are indeed a cult. Finally, Andrew Garfield tackles yet another tortured faith figure in Under the Banner of Heaven, which captures the anxiety and desperation of deconstruction better than anything I’ve seen onscreen.
The Taika Waititi Cinematic Universe continues to bring me deep joy. The What We Do in the Shadows serial adaptation remains delightful and the Wellington Paranormal spinoff is severely underrated (plus its X-Files spoofiness makes me giggle even more while watching simultaneously). Sterlin Harjo and Waititi co-created Reservation Dogs, a quirky and heartwarming coming-of-age series about Native teens trying to find their way in the aftermath of a close friend’s death. Finally, Waititi stars as Blackbeard in David Jenkins’ gay pirate show, Our Flag Means Death, which has one of the most beautiful scenes about love I’ve cried through since that devastating Up montage.
Other shows I adored this year: Abbott Elementary (an instant classic with a hilarious cast), Sort Of, Somebody Somewhere, Made for Love, Never Have I Ever, Old Enough, and The Big Brunch (for fans of GBBO and Dan Levy).
Listen
It was a bit of a slow music year for me, mostly because I was too busy streaming Dance Fever by Florence + The Machine and Special by Lizzo. Florence has been on my radar forever but this year she finally took hold and has me by the neck until future notice. Lizzo continues to stun me with her extraordinary talent and generosity. Her song “Special” has comforted me in many vulnerable moments this year, and I’m so grateful for the hard-won hope and confidence she instills in her listeners. 2022 also felt like Steve Lacy’s year with the release of his latest album, Gemini Rights. I’ve enjoyed his playful artistry ever since I stumbled across his EP on Spotify back in 2017, so his steady ascent has been a delight to witness.
Duality by Luna Li and Sundays by Tanukichan somehow ended up back-to-back on my 2022 playlist, a serendipitous pairing of dreamy vocals and thoughtful lyrics. Toro y Moi’s “Postman” often has me smiling on the way to check the mail. I’m familiar with Stromae, but when I saw a clip of his Tiny Desk Concert going viral on Twitter, I was finally hooked by his infectious presence.
My local radio station has also been killing it lately, introducing me to several amazing artists as the year drew to a close. I’ll definitely be checking out more of The Harlem Gospel Travelers, Butcher Brown, and Eimaral Sol in 2023.
Other artists in rotation this year: Julien Chang, Raveena, Lady Wray, Gabriels, Empress Of, Baby Rose, Samm Henshaw, Nao, and Cleo Sol.