As What to Watch This Week enters its sixth year alongside you, we look back on our shared journey across the screen in 2025. Over the course of the year, we encountered hundreds of works—some stunned us with exquisite visual effects, others dissected reality through gripping narratives. Some viewers found resonance and healing here, while others used the lens to examine the times and question themselves. These films and series have documented, created, and accompanied our lives.

This year’s annual What to Watch This Week · Awards Ceremony presents a total of 10 awards, ordered by each work’s release or premiere date. Our selections remain highly subjective, so we warmly invite you to join us in the comments: share the work that moved you most in 2025, and present an award to the one closest to your heart. Through these titles and moments, let’s preserve together the cinematic memories that belong to 2025.

(Note: All works mentioned in this article were released, premiered, or made available online in 2025.)

@Snow: Pittsburgh Medical Frontline — Season 1

Work details: 2025-01 / United States / TV series / Drama / 50 minutes × 15 episodes / Douban link

Reason for the award: Since its premiere, Pittsburgh Medical Frontline has consistently ranked among the top three most-watched series globally on HBO Max, averaging over 10 million viewers per episode, and leading the 77th Primetime Emmy Awards with wins including Best Drama Series and two other major awards. It has likely already become many viewers’ “Drama of the Year.” And yet, despite all this acclaim, I nearly quit after the very first episode, dragging my way through the rest over almost half a year—because it is too real in its suffering.

The “hardship” of Pittsburgh lies in the sheer intensity and duration of public hospital emergency work. A typical daytime shift that starts in utter chaos: a woman pushed off a platform, a man severely injured while trying to save someone, an athlete with recurrent ventricular fibrillation, a patient whose teeth have been knocked out, a boy who accidentally ingested “candy”…… The number of cases covered in just the first episode alone could probably fuel an entire season of another medical drama. The series leaves almost no breathing room for slacking off—where would there be time for romance or melodrama? Watching the characters crack tired memes in front of patient monitors is about as relaxed as it ever gets. A 12-hour, multi-threaded, high-intensity shift is already suffocating enough, and then they’re forced into overtime by a mass shooting, all while having to call back medical records from hours earlier. If you start feeling stressed and overstimulated, congratulations—you’re officially on the same wavelength as the three interns.

The “realness” of Pittsburgh comes from the people it portrays—people we might actually encounter in everyday life. They work diligently to save lives, but they also gossip, bicker, and spam bad jokes; when they see bizarre cases, they can’t help snapping photos. My favorite little angel is Mel: mildly autistic, with a solid theoretical foundation, but not framed as a headline-grabbing “genius” like Murphy in The Good Doctor. She’s simply a slightly awkward, ordinary doctor who does her job earnestly, cares deeply about her patients, and tries hard to fit in with her colleagues. Collins, whose inner strength is off the charts, can keep working even after fetal biochemical pregnancy loss—yet completely falls apart at the sight of a mouse. Santos, sharp-tongued and arrogant, is the kind of top-tier “problem colleague” we occasionally run into in real life, but she’s never reduced to a mere clown or villain; when something happens, she genuinely steps up.

For many people, watching shows after work is about finally catching their breath. Pittsburgh Medical Frontline, however, makes you feel as if you’re clocking into yet another, even more intense shift alongside these overworked medical staff. It’s precisely this high-density, unvarnished, yet occasionally tender viewing experience that allows you to truly feel the scarcity of medical resources, the surge of social conflict, and the fundamental kindness that still underlies most people.

@宽治: Hot Spot

Work details: 2025-01 / Japan / TV series / Sci-fi, Comedy / 45 minutes × 10 episodes / Douban link

Reason for the award: Fans of Bakarhythm will probably catch a whiff of that unmistakable “Bakarhythm flavor” the moment they start Hot Spot. In terms of character writing, it carries over the subtlety and everyday texture of Fictitious OL Diary; in terms of narrative ideas, it pushes the imagination even further than Rebooting Life; and it continues Bakarhythm’s consistent interest in anti-genre storytelling.

Before watching Hot Spot, it was hard for me to imagine that a series centered on employees at a hot spring hotel would feature aliens at all. Even less imaginable was that this alien story would completely abandon ultimate questions like interstellar warfare or the fate of humanity, and instead focus on workplace gossip, friendships, and the small troubles of everyday life. Even Takahashi himself—the alien in question—looks like nothing more than an utterly ordinary middle-aged man, with none of the traditional aura of a “chosen one.”

What’s more, the problems Takahashi uses his superpowers to solve—aside from the occasional life-saving moment—are mostly trivial things: helping catch a thief, retrieving a volleyball stuck on a rooftop, quickly applying a screen protector, delivering an exam admission ticket. These “missions” not only appear out of nowhere, but using his powers also comes with various side effects (running too fast causes a fever, boosting intelligence leads to hair loss), which can only be alleviated by soaking in a hot spring.

We’re used to thinking that life consists of “highlight moments” and “everyday moments,” and that the people around us fall into the roles of “protagonists” and “NPCs.” Film and television, as dream-making machines, usually focus on the protagonist’s shining moments. What makes this series interesting is precisely how it dissolves that distinction, bringing the often overlooked B-side of life into view. Through its close attention to the mundane, it paradoxically creates a sense of the surreal—a fleeting, everyday kind of wonder hidden in domestic trivialities.

And so, idle chatter becomes different because of that small spark of wonder. And so, we not only accept the alien’s “ordinariness,” but also begin to accept the “strangeness” of ordinary people. In that process, we draw a little closer to one another. And that, truly, is something worth cherishing.

@潘誉晗: Adolescence in Chaos

Work details: 2025-03 / United Kingdom / TV series / Drama / 60 minutes × 4 episodes / Douban link

Reason for the award: At dawn, multiple police cars drive into a residential neighborhood and stop in front of an unremarkable detached house. Armed officers move in an orderly fashion, smash open the door, and storm inside with guns drawn. The Miller family of four lives here. Mr. Miller, the father, stands at the staircase with his hands raised, insisting he’s done nothing wrong—his two children are upstairs. The police, however, are very clear about why they’ve come: “Jamie Miller, I am arresting you on suspicion of murder.” On this day, 13-year-old Jamie Miller is charged with murder.

At this year’s 77th Primetime Emmy Awards, the British series Adolescence in Chaos went six-for-six, winning Best Limited Series, Director, Writer, Lead Actor, Supporting Actor, and Supporting Actress. Owen Cooper, who plays Jamie Miller, became the youngest male acting award winner in Emmy history. After its release, the series was met with overwhelming acclaim. The UK government announced plans to include it as an educational film to be screened in secondary schools, and even Prime Minister Keir Starmer admitted that watching it with his children was deeply shocking. The reason behind all this recognition and impact is simple: this four-episode series captures a pathological sentiment that has become alarmingly prevalent among teenagers today—misogyny.

From the very first episode, the series makes it clear that the police have ample evidence and have arrested the right person. As a result, the story isn’t about finding the real killer, but about why Jamie did what he did. Over the remaining three episodes, the narrative unfolds from three perspectives: the police investigation at the school, Jamie’s psychological counseling sessions, and the Miller family’s experience. What emerges is a startling realization—that what many assume to be an innocent school environment has, without notice, long been breeding serious social issues; and that so-called masculine ideals have already formed an invisible hierarchy and crushing pressure, leading adolescent boys to develop deeply misguided perceptions.

This is truly a work of profound significance.

@知道分子吴先先: Marry My Husband, Please

Work details: 2025-06 / Japan, South Korea / TV series / Drama / 60 minutes × 10 episodes / Douban link

Reason for the award: Marry My Husband, Please is a classic rebirth-and-revenge wish-fulfillment drama. The female lead is terminally ill, discovers that her best friend and husband are having an affair, and is then brutally killed by the two. She unexpectedly reincarnates ten years into the past, resolves to defy fate, deliberately matchmake this “perfect couple,” take revenge on her ex-husband and former friend, and ultimately begin a new life—and a new romance.

Marry My Husband was originally a Korean webtoon, later adapted by tvN into a Korean drama that received a positive response. In 2025, Amazon struck while the iron was hot and released a Japanese version. The adaptation was written by Satomi Oshima, starring Fuka Koshiba and Takeru Satoh, with Korean director Ahn Gil-ho and a Korean production team also on board.

The collaboration between Japanese and Korean teams allows the series to truly shine. On one hand, Japanese dramas are known for their delicate character portrayals. Oshima, who previously adapted 1 Litre of Tears and Nagi’s Long Vacation, adds rich and believable backstories to what were originally more archetypal characters, giving everyone a coherent and convincing motivation for their actions. In addition, aside from Takeru Satoh, the entire supporting cast delivers strong performances. In particular, Sei Shiraishi’s portrayal of the second female lead stands out: through textbook-level facial control (subtle twitching when angry) and rapid, page-flipping-like expression changes, she brings to life a tragic, deeply love-deprived, control-obsessed “dominant best friend” whose feelings toward the heroine oscillate between love and hate. Some viewers have even remarked that they’ve met someone exactly like her in real life.

On the other hand, the Korean team’s meticulous attention to set design, lighting, costumes, and music gives the series an exceptionally polished look, far surpassing many contemporary Japanese dramas that have become lackluster due to limited budgets, talent shortages, and declining production values. Because of this, I found myself watching it again and again: the first time for the story, the second and third for the lighting, makeup, and composition. I’ve watched it at least five times, and every rewatch has been a joy.

Marry My Husband, Please is a show you can watch without overthinking—but it’s also more than just a simple guilty pleasure. I sincerely hope that domestic dramas will produce more high-quality, visually pleasing wish-fulfillment series like this, ones that respect the audience’s intelligence.

@SHY: Chainsaw Man the Movie: Reze Arc

Work details: 2025-09 / Japan / Animation / Fantasy / 100 minutes / Douban link

Reason for the award: There’s a certain irony here. The Chainsaw Man TV anime once strained to achieve a “cinematic” feel and fell short; yet its follow-up, which stops blindly imitating live-action techniques and instead reclaims the essence of animation, turns out to be a true film. Under new director Tatsuya Yoshihara, the adaptation fully internalizes the spirit of the original manga, making numerous subtle but effective adjustments. Through lavish animation and restrained direction, it composes a dazzling yet heartrending ode to love and heartbreak.

Stories always begin with the meeting of a boy and a girl. A phone booth in the rain, a roadside café, a school campus at night, fireworks at a festival—the rippling surface of a swimming pool tinted with ambiguity draws two lonely souls into quiet intoxication. Having never been loved, perhaps they see themselves in one another. Even if the relationship begins with lies, they still cling to the fantasy of brief comfort, tasting a youth they never had.

Yet in the end, they wear collars. A blood-stained deep kiss rips apart the tender illusion, and the freshness of everyday life explodes into the chaos of a B-movie battlefield. At full throttle, MAPPA delivers a rousing action spectacle: chainsaws and bombs roar, blood sprays in every direction, the scenes growing ever more unhinged. The show-stopping arrival of the “Sharknado” pushes absurdity to its limit, embodying a violent aesthetic as sudden and ferocious as a storm.

Would you rather be a country mouse or a city mouse? This fable, running through the entire film, sets its tragic tone. A protagonist yearning for an ordinary life is ultimately revealed as a used and discarded outcast, denied even the right to a humble wish. Choosing romance over reason is fated to exact the price of life itself. Petals wither, fireworks fade, footsteps halt abruptly at the end of an alley—light and darkness standing in stark opposition.

When what was once within arm’s reach becomes untouchable, countless unspoken thoughts condense into a murmured line—“Actually, I never went to school either”—leaving behind an oblivious boy to wait alone. After living through a love so overwhelming, everything else in the world pales into insignificance; joy and sorrow alike fall silent. This ineffable blend of tenderness and cruelty is precisely what the much-anticipated first season of the anime should have been all along.

@宛潼: The Girl

Work details: 2025-11 / Taiwan, China / Film / Drama / 124 minutes / Douban link

Reason for the award: The Girl carries a certain autobiographical undertone. To be honest, its narrative is relatively flat, without dramatic twists or conventional “plot highs.” But Shu Qi’s approach feels remarkably deft: she uses imagery to fill the gaps in the narrative. Those delicate, flowing shots and the play of light and shadow are themselves telling a story. They form the film’s very framework, bringing an otherwise understated plot vividly to life.

What moved me to tears most was how the film strips away the “strong female lead power fantasy” and instead presents the quiet, restrained life texture that most women inhabit—and this, in fact, is reality. There are no reversals, no triumphant comebacks, only prolonged endurance. At times there’s a desire to break free, only to find there is no way out; after despair comes nothing but continued endurance. This suffocating sense of powerlessness is heartbreaking. To me, the mother in the film understands everything. She knows which path should be taken, but she herself is trapped and can no longer walk it. The greatest kindness of her life is sending her daughter away with her own hands, cutting off this cyclical fate.

The film hides a detail of profound significance: throughout the entire story, only the girl has a name—no one else does. The others are faceless symbols, representing countless small families submerged under gendered and patriarchal narratives, and the suffering silently borne by women across generations. But starting with the girl’s generation, the old narrative finally comes to an end. They are no longer nameless shadows; they finally have names of their own.

At the end, during the post-screening Q&A, Shu Qi broke into a genuinely happy smile. It reminded me of a line from the film and made me feel its deeper meaning: letting smiles no longer look so bitter, but truly be smiles.

@利兹与青鸟: All Her Fault

Work details: 2025-11 / United States / TV series / Drama / 45 minutes × 8 episodes / Douban link

Reason for the award: If the hallmark of a top-tier thriller is the ability to make viewers “binge the entire series in one go,” then All Her Fault can safely be called this year’s most successful suspense drama. Centered on the accidental disappearance of a child, the series does not stop at unraveling a mystery; instead, it precisely dissects the terrifying truths lurking beneath so-called perfect families and a rigidly stratified society.

The series opens with Marissa, a successful working mother, heading out to pick up her five-year-old son Milo based on a text message from another mother, Jenny—only to discover that the address is fake and her child has vanished without a trace. This fear, born from the collapse of everyday trust, instantly pulls the audience into a deeply empathetic state. What sets the series apart, however, is its construction of successive “narrative traps” that constantly overturn themselves. Suspicion first falls on Jenny’s family nanny, Kelly; then the husband Peter’s suspicious movements, followed by hidden secrets among family and friends, gradually come to light. Everyone seems like the culprit, yet every clue only leads deeper into the fog.

The ambition of All Her Fault goes far beyond telling a twisty story. The title itself is a massive irony. Just as viewers grow accustomed to locating blame among female characters, the series sharply captures a collective subconscious reflex: whenever something goes wrong with a child—from everyday bumps and bruises to kidnapping cases—the mother is almost always seen as the primary party at fault. In the show, both Marissa and Jenny, no matter how successful they are professionally, cannot escape all-around scrutiny and blame from their husbands, the media, and even themselves once they are defined by the role of “mother.” Through their experiences, the series reveals how society at large molds motherhood into an identity that must be perfect—or else be burdened with original sin.

As one incisive line in the series puts it, “It looks like a group of good people killing each other.” When the narrative perspective shifts to the tragic story behind the nanny Kelly, as well as a subplot in which a detective takes desperate risks for his autistic son, the series gradually peels back the cold chasm of class divisions. What emerges is a more universal—and more powerless—predicament: in the face of overwhelming structural injustice, anyone can be a victim, and anyone can, often unconsciously, become a link in the chain of harm.

@Voyager_1: Strange Tales of the Tang Dynasty: Chang’an

Work details: 2025-11 / Mainland China / TV series / Mystery / 50 minutes × 40 episodes / Douban link

Reason for the award: There’s an old saying that “sequels are doomed to fail,” but Strange Tales of the Tang Dynasty is an exception. If the first season was a surprising dark horse, the second a solid and conscientious follow-up, then the third season—Chang’an (2025)—finally completes the transformation from a “niche gem” into a fully fledged series familiar to a broad audience.

This time, the investigation duo led by Su Wuming and Lu Lingfeng brings their long westward journey to an end and finally returns to Chang’an—a city both prosperous and seething with undercurrents. The most captivating element of the show remains that single word: “strange.” The writers not only continue their precise excavation of Tang-dynasty zhiguai (records of the uncanny), but in this third season, they more deeply intertwine these “strange cases” with the political landscape of Chang’an itself.

From “The Golden Peach of Kang Kingdom” to “Polo in a Prosperous Age,” the bizarre cases this season are no longer mere curiosities of the jianghu, but point directly to the darkness of the human heart and the heights of the court. Avoiding flashy, studio-style excess, Tang Tales uses light and shadow to construct a distinctly Tang-era “Chinese Gothic” aesthetic—where the ecstatic dances of night banquets and the crimes lurking in sewers fold together into a three-dimensional vision of a flourishing Tang dynasty.

The most award-worthy aspect lies in its unwavering commitment to using the “strange” as bait, Tang-era stories as the connective thread, and characters free of filler subplots. What remains is tightly interlocked reasoning, meticulous investigations, and the growing默契 and maturity of the investigative team when faced with matters of right and wrong. As we watch Su Wuming once again stroke his beard in contemplation and Lu Lingfeng break the deadlock with his spear, that long-missed, pure binge-watching thrill is the best possible reward—and the clearest proof that good money truly can drive out bad.

@Sholmes: Knives Out 3

Work details: 2025-11 / United States / Film / Mystery / 144 minutes / Douban link

Reason for the award: Judd is a Catholic priest who is reassigned to the rural parish of Our Lady of Eternal Perseverance after assaulting a deacon for making disrespectful remarks. There, he assists Wicks in managing the parish. During the Good Friday service, Wicks steps into a storage room near the pulpit to rest, only to suddenly collapse. Judd discovers that Wicks has been stabbed in the back and is bleeding profusely. Police Chief Scott summons private detective Blanc to investigate the case, and the police consider Judd—who had been preaching alongside Wicks—as the prime suspect.

On a rainy night, Judd witnesses Wicks emerging from a mausoleum. He gives chase, is knocked unconscious, and later awakens to find the body of the cemetery caretaker Samson lying on the ground. Just as Judd is about to confess to the crime, Blanc stops him and claims that he already knows who the real killer is.

Structurally, the film adheres rigorously to the rules of classic fair-play detective fiction—ingenious tricks, the careful planting and payoff of clues, and a logically coherent process of deduction. Every clue, every misdirection, and every shot choice serves the central puzzle. The first case in the film is a locked-room murder, and Blanc explicitly references the famous “locked-room lecture” from The Three Coffins, with the solution unfolding strictly through logical reasoning.

The film enhances the pleasure of deduction through multiple layers of foreshadowing. For example, the parish administrator Martha stops Samson from listening to a live sports broadcast during the sermon, forcing him to record the game instead—this recording later becomes one of the key clues in solving the case. Although Blanc and Judd hold opposing positions in matters of religious belief, they share an unshakable commitment to the pursuit of truth. This coexistence of shared goals and ideological conflict creates a strong chemistry between them, continually heightening the narrative tension.

Cinematographer Steve Yedlin turns the imagery itself into a tool of misdirection and revelation—hiding clues in long shots, and using shifts between warm and cool lighting to hint at characters’ inner states. At a time when genre films are increasingly diluted, this movie remains steadfast in its devotion to the principles of classic detective fiction and achieves impressive results, proving that fair-play mysteries are far from outdated.

@阿斯巴_甜: Yesterday’s Youth

Work details: 2025-12 / Japan / Film / Drama / 113 minutes / Douban link

Reason for the award: This film tells the story of five high school friends from different social classes and ethnic backgrounds, and the life choices they make about their futures amid an increasingly harsh social and school environment after an earthquake. Although both Hao and Yuta are high school students who love electronic music, Hao’s marginalized identity and impoverished background gradually make it impossible for him to tolerate Yuta’s game-like attitude toward life. As conditions continue to deteriorate and under the influence of his classmates, Hao ultimately chooses a path different from Yuta’s—while Yuta, in turn, grows more mature through Hao’s influence.

As a first-time director, Sora Otomo cannot escape the label of being Ryuichi Sakamoto’s son, and his multicultural upbringing has meant that he has never shied away from expressing political issues directly—much like how he often wears a keffiyeh associated with Palestine as a form of protest. But if the core of this film is the director’s political expression, what I find even more compelling are the vibrant, youthful gestures layered on its surface.

This is a fearless, rebellious posture: from collaborating on pranks against the school principal to flipping off the campus surveillance cameras. Their defiance becomes a flash of color in a fractured, oppressive environment, while music serves as their final utopia. Compared with clichéd, melodramatic youth films, the way Otomo portrays high school students responding to the outside world through resistance and escape conveys a sense of authenticity and an unbroken vitality of life.

🙋‍: Share your 2025 viewing report—what films or series did you love most or find most memorable, and what awards would you want to give them? Feel free to join the discussion in the comments!