After a year defined by strikes from both the Writer’s Guild of America and the Screen Actors Guild, the primary goal across the entire film industry was to help movie theaters survive to 2025. Consider the goal achieved, as continued entries from the Marvel Cinematic Universe and Pixar kept the box office afloat with Deadpool & Wolverine and Inside Out 2 which grossed over $1 billion worldwide, while Universal’s cinematic adaptation of the Broadway smash musical Wicked continues to be a big hit with audiences and critics in addition to the awards circuit.
And yet, while those films provided audiences with the necessary comfort and escapism from yet another turbulent election cycle that plunged America back into unpredictable disarray, the narratives that stood out the most this year, at least for this critic, were stories about dreamers longing for something, whether it be a romantic connection, acceptance, comfort, power, justice, success or freedom. Their pursuits to grant their own wishes were compelling, emotional rollercoasters regardless of their success or failure, capped off by long-lasting precepts driven via striking images and sounds. Without further ado, here’s a look back at 2024 in film:
Worst Films (from 5-1): Aggro Drift, Argylle, Back To Black, Madame Web, Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire
Biggest Disappointments: Beetlejuice Beetlejuice, The Garfield Movie, Megalopolis, Y2K, Joker: Folie A Deux
Overlooked Gems: Small Things Like These, Piece By Piece, Better Man, Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga, Kneecap
Honorable Mentions: Late Night With The Devil, Rebel Ridge, September 5, Juror #2, Kill
And now, onto the main list:
15. Strange Darling (JT Mollner)
Some surprises of writer/director JT Mollner’s second feature can be guessed from a mile away, but as an exercise in style, Strange Darling is a thing of beauty. Even when projected digitally, director of photography Giovanni Ribisi’s colors pop with beautiful vibrancy to conjure both sympathy and suspicion over the true intentions of The Lady and The Demon.
That intrigue carries over with Willa Fitzgerald’s chameleon-esque performance that showcases her panoramic acting range, and every jump backward and forward in time as seemingly innocent characters are bathed in sensuous blues before the story takes turns for the demented. But where the movie deserves a particularly special recognition is in the writing and direction, as Mollner’s script is layered with ideas about perception as it relates to forming connections, and the incendiary hypnosis trauma can inflict on those carrying its burden.
Meanwhile, Mollner allowed recording artist Z Berg to fashion the film’s sultry but melancholic soundtrack that paints a dark life story for one of the main characters’ origins that hits harder with every song and subsequent listen. Surreal in parts and darkly funny, but always suspenseful and challenging our expectations, Strange Darling is a singular mystery that throws back to the days of violent pulp novels and adult comic books exceptionally well, and excites spectators over the next projects for everyone involved in the creation of this independent gem.
14. Dune: Part Two (Denis Villenueve)
The first part of Denis Villeneuve’s adaptation of Frank Herbert’s massive and famous sci-fi epic did a stellar job of setting big stakes for its ensemble, as well as establishing their menial perspective in the vastness of the universe compared to the massive spacecrafts they pilot and the structures in which they congregate. All that is present in the second part of this trilogy, as is the technical mastery across the board from the immaculate costumes, set design and makeup effects to Hans Zimmer’s dreamy and bombastic musical score, but what sets Dune: Part Two above its initial entry is not only the fact that it is more of a complete narrative, but also its existence as a haunting meditation on destiny.
Paul Atredies wrestles with whether he wants to live up to the Lisan al Gaib that the Fremen believe him to be, but the giant IMAX frame closes in on him during scenes of his inner contemplation, just as it does while the Bene Gesserit pull the strings behind the scenes, playing members of both House Atredies and House Harkonnen for the sake of fulfilling their agenda. The worldbuilding is also ingenious, as viewers are transported to the latter’s monochrome wasteland home on Giedi Prime, where Austin Butler’s imposing turn as Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen steals the show just by everything he does with his voice.
The pacing does occasionally breeze through the emotional impact of certain revelations, but nevertheless, the middle part of this rendition of Herbert’s masterpiece has more levity than its predecessor and the bleak truth about the incestual power of government is a timely note for part two to end on, setting the stage for an answer to where hope can be found in its culmination with Dune: Messiah coming to theaters within the next few years. But until then, Dune: Part Two is another sci-fi tentpole head and shoulders above the blockbusters in its class.
13. Conclave (Edward Berger)
Is there such a thing as a perfect leader? That’s the question Cardinal Lawrence yearns to find the answer to throughout Conclave, a tense political thriller that sees the humble chief in charge of leading the Vatican’s election of a new Pope after their predecessor’s sudden death. There are many suitors vying to be his successor, from John Lithgow’s moderate Tremblay and the Trump-esque Tedesco to the African-American social conservative Adeyemi and Mexican newcomer Benitez. But while meandering through the home of the Catholic Church to find information that favors his more trustworthy colleagues, Lawrence stumbles upon a plethora of secrets that threaten to shake the church to its core.
Some readers may be thinking they already know what Conclave is really about, but what makes this film especially mesmerizing is how smart it is to acknowledge the Catholic Church’s real life crimes without making them the forefront of the narrative. Writer Peter Straughan knows that’s been done to death over the decades, and with his screenplay based on the Robert Harris novel of the same name, smartly distills the ongoings within the Vatican’s walls to the essentials in order to demonstrate the secretive nature of politics, from private meetings behind closed doors and whisper campaigns to even an instance where bishops stop their conversation mid-sentence so a janitor moving through their room can’t hear them from the background.
Director Edward Berger also shapes this outside the political thriller subgenre and into an espionage film at times through long, wide shots that follow Lawrence and his peers from afar and invite intrigue from the audience, making us feel like we’re in the Catholic Church not minding our business but too curious to look away, while inky shadows either surround or cloak Lawrence in utter darkness, warning us and this servant of God that he’s meddling where he doesn’t belong. All the while, Berger’s actors all put in tremendous performances, with Ralph Fiennes leading the way as a Cardinal-Dean mourning the loss of his trusted mentor, and driven by his desire to do right by him and the deity he serves. It may be a tough sell for some viewers, but Conclave is a spellbinding film with stakes kept high well after the papacy is filled.
12. I Saw The TV Glow (Jane Schoenbrun)
After breaking through in 2021 with We’re All Going To The World’s Fair, a haunting and timely cautionary tale about the dangers of looking for acceptance in online circles, transfeminine writer-director Jane Schoenbrun cemented themselves as a filmmaker to watch with a forewarning about the psychological cost of losing oneself in nostalgia. I Saw The TV Glow is narrated by main character Owen as he recalls his experiences watching the fictional horror-adventure show The Pink Opaque, and the friendship that ensued with the mysterious Maddy, whose deep connection with the program distorts her reality to Owen’s confusion.
Right up front, Schoenbrun perfectly replicates the aesthetic of 90s television aimed for pre-teen audiences from the use of practical costumes to The Pink Opaque’s existence as a cross between Buffy The Vampire Slayer and Are You Afraid Of The Dark?, and even pays loving homage to the 90s through clever cameos by Limp Bizkit frontman Fred Durst and even Michael C. Maronna and Danny Tamberelli of The Adventures of Pete & Pete fame, while star Justice Smith carries himself with a welcoming innocence and vocal androgyny in another breakout role. As far as how their visual style complements the narrative, Schoenbrun uses blue and pink to symbolize Owen’s gender confusion at a given place in his life, and his curiosity about the world when his younger self peruses underneath a parachute in awe at its colorful majesty.
Thematically, there is a way for audiences anywhere on the LGBTQ+ spectrum to interpret Schoenbrun’s latest as a melancholic depiction of queer isolation and loneliness, and their subsequent effects, but there’s a substantial level that can be gleaned by straight audiences as well, one that preaches the mental and emotional consequences of unfulfillment. Failing to capitalize on your own spirit of inquiry has the capacity to destroy the mind with longing for a second chance at youth, but what was comforting and fostered community in the past only brings more regret and seclusion. Add smart writing that conjures frightening imagery on top of an entrancing soundtrack, and you have a surefire surreal knockout in I Saw The TV Glow.
11. The Apprentice (Ali Abbasi)
It’s a shame that The Apprentice was considered too hot of a potato to be picked up by a major studio, and yet completely justifiable given the unfortunate results of last November’s election and how its real-life subject was particularly vocal against its release. But whether one loves or hates Donald J. Trump, this examination of how he started his real estate business will raise many intrigued eyebrows for how well it both humanizes and condemns him. In the 1970s, Trump was a man longing to get out of the shadow of his brother Fred Jr., and stumbled into friendship with odious lawyer and political fixer Roy Cohn, whose helpful assistance and foolproof advice for success anywhere in life at the expense of the poor and suffering morphs him into the egomaniac he is today.
It is infuriating to watch Donald Trump swindle and sleaze his way out of every financial and legal problem into which he gets himself, but Sebastian Stan is magnetic to watch as the malformed mogul, doing just enough to replicate his charisma and manner of speaking without veering too far into SNL-caricature territory. That said, he is matched if not surpassed by Jeremy Strong, who disappears into Roy Cohn’s power-driven hubris and self-absorption to the point of rendering his screen presence into something truly terrifying. The script from writer Gabriel Sherman is a tale of two halves: the first one being an intimate and haunting story about an egotist looking to make himself too big to deny, while the second is a raw catalog of how that dangerous concoction of big ego, relentless hate and persistent attacks went on to hurt so many people, including his family, first wife and even his own teacher.
These words on the page are perfect for director Ali Abbasi’s masterful ability to blend genres and mixed media; Trump’s rise in the 70s appears reminiscent of fly-on-the-wall film stock, while the reveal of his true colors exists on videotape throughout the 80s, finding audiences wondering when the archival footage of TV interviews ended and when the film’s narrative begins. Some of the references to Trump’s Presidential aspirations can feel shoehorned in, but for Abbasi, they serve a foreboding purpose in creating another political horror film. No matter what happens to our country and the Constitution within the next four years, The Apprentice is cinematic proof of our nation’s 45th and 47th President’s capacity for monstrousness, and a cautionary tale of how evil spreads from business into politics as well as person to person.
10. Hundreds of Beavers (Mike Cheslik)
Hundreds of Beavers is neither an ordinary movie, nor a simple live-action cartoon. Mike Cheslik’s love letter to physical comedy is an ingenious concoction inspired by the silent greats like Chaplin, Lloyd and Keaton and even old-school RPG video games, shown through an ingenious implementation of video game tropes as obstacles in Jean Kayak’s way. The film’s zany humor remains fresh for its runtime via a combination of hilarious sight gags, perfectly timed callbacks, hysterical misdirections, and goofy slapstick, as well as visual effects reminiscent of cartoon logic from the best of the Looney Tunes.
But what places Hundreds of Beavers on this year-end list is the practicality of Cheslik’s direction. It’s easy for audiences to tell when Kayak has been animated up a tree with the puppet pin tool in After Effects, or that the animals of the movie are all either puppets or men in animal costumes, but that just adds to its infectious charm, madcap imagination, and unique visual style. Viewers watch with wonder over how a given scene was put together before and during production, and yearn to see our hapless hero succeed.
It’s also a testament to this comedy’s greatness that amongst the lunacy on display is a celebration of the human condition; Kayak tries and fails and tries and fails over and over again until he finally succeeds, only for the conflict of man versus nature to intensify in absurd, but fascinating fashion until the film’s astounding conclusion. Hundreds of Beavers is the kind of movie that changes indie cinema for the better, inspires generations of new filmmakers, and instills hope for the medium’s future.
9. I’m Still Here (Victor Salles)
Victor Salles’ first film in twelve years follows the family of retired congressman Rubens Paiva, who one day is escorted out of his home by secret police working for Brazil’s military dictatorship, claiming he is needed for a deposition. However, his wife Eunice and teenage daughter Eliana are taken captive as well, and put through harsh, repeated interrogations about their alleged affiliation with the Brazilian Communist Party and alleged plots conspiring against the military. Upon their release, Eunice devotes herself to finding the truth behind her husband’s disappearance while assuming the motherly duties that come with parenting five children.
I’m Still Here is one of 2024’s standout films for Salles’ approach to installing a humanist interpretation toward the political drama genre; the film is framed in the perspective not of the politician, but of his family. Examples of this come when a military blockade unnecessarily stops Veroca and her boyfriend to see if their faces match a poster full of wanted terrorists and murderers, and minute details like the sweeping sound of combat helicopters flying over their house off-screen, as well as intimidating military caravans maneuvering down their beachside street. Endearingly, however, the Paiva clan lives in these moments dancing with, taking super 8 films and loving one another, without believing the tyrants in charge will ever tear apart their family. But little by little, they close in on their happiness until they’re at the front door.
Salles even goes the extra mile to show the immediate and long term effects of Rubens’ vanishing; one of the girls takes up smoking and quits extracurricular activities at school, no one can access the family bank account without his signature, and Eunice pivots her focus toward recovering her spouse. And she remains resilient in the face of strife, as Fernanda Torres communicates marvelous bravery in conversations with Rubens’ allies, while having the range to show lifelike maternal sadness over her eldest daughter leaving the nest when the family is out for ice cream. I’m Still Here is a terrific exercise in humanism and a heavy but rewarding narrative about the unbreakable link of family and unconditional love in times of hardship.
8. (TIE) Challengers and Queer (Luca Guadagnino)
Luca Guadagnino proved himself to be one of the most hardworking directors in the film industry this year with a one-two punch of movies that highlighted his incredible versatility in filmmaking. Challengers tells the decade-spanning tale of two best friends turned bitter rivals, Art and Patrick, competing against each other in the finals of a semi-professional tennis tournament with personal stakes that couldn’t be higher for either man or Art’s wife and coach Tashi.
What starts as the recipe for your usual steamy erotic thriller turns out to be so much more thanks to Justin Kuritzkes’ script that creates layered characters, invites viewers to read this as a battle between men betraying their own queerness, and even turns the erotic thriller genre on its head. Tashi may be manipulative but with good intentions; she wants her suitors to be better players at her favorite sport, and aims to watch a good game of tennis, like any of us would. With that in addition to a propulsive score from Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross, brilliantly composed tennis sequences and ingenious visual storytelling, Challengers celebrates the important part of the human condition that is our competitive spirit.
On the other end of the spectrum is Queer, based on the William Burroughs novella of the same name. The Beat Generation author’s literature has been described as incoherent and the incomprehensible elements are carried into the screen adaptations of his work, but what keeps Queer on the same level as Guadagnino’s youthful tennis drama regardless is the melancholic surrealism that permeates throughout protagonist William Lee’s quest for companionship in Mexico City. The colors pop with lovely vibrancy and Reznor and Ross’s music is tender and affecting whether it’s played with real woodwinds or ominous synths, but the visual flourishes in the storytelling, from a tonally jarring yet hallucinogenic trip through the South American jungle to Lee’s loneliness and craving to caress the object of his desire, all paint a sorrowful picture of a man at war with his sexuality. However, Queer cannot be discussed without praising Daniel Craig for employing a natural endearment to Lee’s painful longing, discomfort with himself, and crippling insecurity. It’s a career-best performance in an equally devastating film.
7. Sing Sing (Greg Kwedar)
Far from the standard prison drama, director Greg Kwedar’s second feature is a moving depiction of life within the maximum security walls of the Sing Sing Correctional Facility, where wrongfully incarcerated Divine G balances assisting newcomer Clarence “Divine Eye” Maclin with the therapeutic process of acting in the prison’s theater group within its RTA program with the high stakes of an upcoming clemency hearing. The results tell an affecting depiction of male vulnerability with remarkable performances from Colman Domingo and the real life ex-convicts who went through their own art rehabilitation, who all use their acting skills to lend Sing Sing with a riveting dose of authentic vulnerability and truthful dignity. Read the full review HERE.
6. The Seed of the Sacred Fig (Mohammad Rasoulof)
With how big film crews can get in this day and age, to shoot a three-hour long political thriller entirely in secret is a lofty endeavor for any director. But Mohammed Rasoulof is just one of many filmmakers from Iran to have been arrested for criticizing his nation’s government in an outrageous violation of his right to free speech, and as his possible final film to be shot in his homeland (Rasoulof fled Iran for Germany after his latest’s acceptance into the Cannes Film Festival), The Seed of the Sacred Fig is an unsettling colossus that conveys through elements of fiction and nonfiction the stranglehold that Iran’s oppressive regime has on its subservient underlings, and how their suffocation spreads to their families.
The mythical account of Iranian administrative official Iman’s descent into mad paranoia after his promotion to investigative judge starts off full of the system’s moody menace and the writing only grows the suspense from there as his two daughters question his decisions and those of the authority above him with the more news they watch, straining the relationship with their mother who tries to sweep the issues under the proverbial rug in blind support of her husband and even denies her children from spending time with an activist friend.
Meanwhile, the pressures of the new position take a heavy toll on Iman, as the script details the intricate confidentiality of his profession; offices are wiretapped, the hours are long, and there’s not enough of them in a day to sift through massive amounts of paperwork and properly determine the correct sentencing of an innocent. Rasoulof also astutely directs his tour de force within his confinement by making every location feel claustrophobic and isolating, using cell phone footage that’s gone viral to emphasize what’s going on in the outside world, getting intense performances from his small but standout ensemble, and briskly pacing every scene so well that moviegoers have forgotten they’ve witnessed for almost 180 minutes. The Seed of the Sacred Fig is an unnerving, anxiety-inducing thriller with tension that ramps higher and higher the more it goes along, a chilling replication of Iranian civilian life, and a callback to the country’s folklore that suggests what waters the titular legend is the blood of its own planter.
5. Nickel Boys (RaMell Ross)
Making an entire movie from the first-person perspective of its two protagonists can be a gimmick that gets tired really fast at best and reeks of a decision from a novice director at worst. But Peabody Award winning filmmaker RaMell Ross has the intelligence to use the storytelling device in order to enlighten the general public of yet another dark chapter in American antiquity, and shed light on the physical and mental aspects of the Black experience. Based on the novel by Colson Whitehead, Nickel Boys follows Elwood Curtis and Turner, two African-American boys are unnecessarily sentenced to reform school in a remote part of northern Florida, where they read from books with entire pages redacted, are forced to perform hard labor, and witness terrible acts of sexual abuse and violence against their peers.
Ross aimed for an observational, unintrusive eye in his acclaimed film Hale County This Morning, This Evening, and juxtaposes the narrative beats of this story with documentary-esque visual references that emphasize the struggle of both players, and informs audiences about the nefarious goings-on of Nickel academies like the one at the center of Nickel Boys. Despite the horrors to which they are subjected, Elwood and Turner have each other to brave through it all and do so through a well-written dynamic, while the abstract score from Alex Somers and Scott Alario recreates the sound of bees buzzing and disconcerting drones to aurally evoke the uncomfortable heat of their environment, harkening viewers back to the torturous era of slavery.
To that end, it’s no wonder that Ross elected to adapt Nickel Boys to the screen with the camera assuming the POV of its main characters, because his ultimate goal with his first narrative feature film is to expose all moviegoers to a frightening aspect of Black history by presenting it like a collage of nightmares. Those dropped in the shoes of Elwood and Turner may try to tell themselves that what transpires before their eyes isn’t happening, or that the events at Nickel Academy can’t be based on fact, but the harrowing reality is they did happen, furthering an infuriating truth that very little has changed in the decades-long battle against racism. But to combat that idea in our livelihood, Nickel Boys suggests the average Black man must have the strength to live as two African Americans: the one aware of society’s racist machinations, and the one clinging to hope for a better, more just world.
4. The Brutalist (Brady Corbet)
Brady Corbet spent seven years struggling to find financial suitors for his opus about fictional Jewish architect László Tóth and his harrowing experience emigrating from Hungary to America after surviving the Holocaust. The struggle paid off, as The Brutalist arrives just in time to make a monumental statement about the weighted disadvantage immigrants have on their journey toward prosperity, thanks to the distorted foundation on which the United States was built. More than a mere throwback to the days of classical Hollywood epics, Corbet’s long takes allow his magnetizing ensemble to react to their characters’ injustices with a beguiling realism as the 3 ½ hour tale flies by with a brisk pace and phenomenal character work in the screenplay and Adrien Brody’s career-best lead performance. Read the full review HERE.
3. Anora (Sean Baker)
We all have aspirations to live comfortably and carefree, so much that we keep going back to a lot of our favorite movies to remind us of the possibility that they can and do come true. That makes Anora such a uniquely heartbreaking film, because director Sean Baker’s latest starts right at the achievement and unravels its titular protagonist’s hopes and satisfaction until all that remains is an empty spool of uncertainty. High-end stripper Ani meets and marries Vanya, the rich son of a Russian oligarch. But as soon as his parents learn of their wedding, they dispatch two stateside Armenian henchmen to annul their nuptials.
This comes as a shock for Ani, whose confusion and disbelief can be read on the face of star Mikey Madison in a breakthrough performance that doubles as a masterclass for actors looking to craft compelling characters within the confines of a script. Baker’s screenplay and Madison together mold Anora with a three-dimensional persona that invites speculation over what domestic discord brought her to the club in which she works, how she gained the tenacity and street smarts to fight back upon facing a physical threat, and the wisdom to present herself with kindness when meeting suspected in-laws, endearing us to her maturity and youthful naivete.
Baker also balances the altruist drama of Anora with hysterical slapstick grounded in realism; the bumbling Armenian underlings tasked with separating Vanya from Ani have some of the funniest lines of the entire film, along with the absurd, situational humor throughout the second act that propels Ani on a trek through Coney Island and New York City’s red light district. The high personal stakes aren’t neglected however, as Baker’s directorial mark to shoot on 35mm film stock adds to the reality of Ani’s circumstances, the alluring colors of the lights under which she dances, and compels a desire within onlookers for her to escape the transactional life of objectivity. Anora is an honest fairytale about our desire to dream, and Sean Baker’s best work.
2. Flow (Gints Zilbalodis)
The perilous adventure that the animals of Flow face after a catastrophic flood renders their homeland aquatic can be anxiety-inducing for devoted animal lovers, but families up for the expedition will be enthralled to watch a brave cat learn how to adapt to his new life with a dog, capybara, lemur and secretarybird on a boat to wherever the river takes them. Latvian animator Gints Zilbalodis worked with multiple animation studios across three countries, and this collaboration tells a poignant but powerful fable implying an instinctual kindness within nature, and a fitting moral that the bigger our team is in the fight against environmental uncertainty, the greater our significance in the universe’s grand scheme. Read the full review HERE.
1. The Substance (Coralie Fargeat)
The entertainment industry’s irrational standards for beauty is not an unfamiliar topic for the cinematic arts, but have they ever featured one of its actresses pulling a chicken drumstick from her bellybutton? Not until this year, because no one has had Coralie Fargeat’s wild audaciousness and sheer fury about how Hollywood chews up and spits out women both young and old, like the ugliest consumable shrimp. Fargeat’s visceral scorn permeates through every facet of her gonzo body horror masterpiece, from the art direction and extreme gore effects to the electric performances from Margaret Qualley and Demi Moore. Together they are one, and help ascend The Substance to the number one best film of 2024. Read the full review HERE.