BEST MOVIES OF 2024
Jane Schoenbrun’s excellent second film found its initial reception cooled by a couple of factors. First was a mangled marketing effort that presented the film as a horror movie, which it is in the most lenient sense, as it can be subtly horrifying (more on that later), but many dyed-in-the-wool horror fans surely bristled as they watched and felt duped by the lack of genuine chills. Once that wave of outrage died down, a new one criticizing the film for being too woke in its tacit depiction of the Trans experience by more conservative movie-goers followed. And I Saw the TV Glow is absolutely a Trans allegory. The film being dragged down by these controversies diminished what should have been a coronation of a new genre classic. This is a story worth being told, not BECAUSE it is a trans story at a time when that group is deeply embattled, but because it is a unique story from an underheard perspective, rich with complex honesty. It is those things largely because it is a trans story, but it is those things on its own two feet.
This year has also seen trans stories that are not well told, and unfortunately those are the ones that garnered 13 Oscar nominations. I Saw the TV Glow is specifically a dream-like meditation on the process of acceptance for one trans person, but it is also an exploration of repression in general. While unique and deeply personal to our protagonist, there is a universal element to the understanding of what it feels like to deny yourself for the sake of placating others. Herein lies the deep horror of the film. The desperate suffocating feeling that you are trapped living someone else’s life instead of your own. That you can literally die without having ever truly lived. Schoenbrun tours us through these vexing musings with one of the deftest hands working in film today. Every frame drips with symbolism, every casting choice a knowing wink, every color a splash of hidden detail. The clear homages to 90’s Nickelodeon pre-teen dramas and the obvious heavy influence from Buffy The Vampire Slayer are unnerving in their particularity. They provide the impression of stealing someone else’s nostalgia. The film is dense with meaning and feeling and, for a bonus, might contain the best soundtrack of the year.
In the months that have passed since I have seen the movie, I have not been able to shake several images and sequences. Some of which are critical to the impact of the film and others that are just plain vibes, bruh. I Saw the TV Glow is exacting in its formula. It is one of the tightest cinematic metaphors I have ever seen. I don’t say this lightly, but we tragically lost David Lynch in 2024, but in Jane Schoenbrun we may have found his millennial reincarnation.
(Streaming on MAX)
#9: DUNE PART II
The first installment of Denis Villeneuve’s sprawling sci-fi epic was handsomely made and satisfyingly engaging. It garnered an honorable mention on my 2020 list (albeit in a weaker year for film). His return to the universe of Frank Herbert is one of the most gorgeous and thrilling sci-fi films in recent memory. Dune Part II thoroughly eclipses the original in a way that sequels rarely do (outside of maybe Empire Strikes Back and The Dark Knight). It topples even the strongest components of Part I in its cinematography, visual effects and sound design, while also adding significantly more narrative and emotional punch. Part I is a masterclass in modern sci-fi world building, while Part II more than makes good on the promise of the set-up. Taken together, Dune is an outstanding parable of the hero’s journey and the corruptibility of our own ego. And largely on the strength of Part II, it is the best sci-fi saga in decades.
Timothee Chalamet’s Paul has a character arc that is patient and whose beats feel earned. It makes the culminating climactic scenes all the more forceful when they do come to pass. The heartbreak, betrayal, and duplicity of the film’s final moments are pure Shakespearian delight. The screenplay with its terrific adaptation is stellar and is unfortunately being shoved to the side only because the movie boasts some of the greatest tech work in the history of film. I was in the minority that were vexed by Part I’s cinematography Oscar win because, while the film was beautiful, the camera work was somewhat stilted for me. That is emphatically NOT the case here. The shoot here is inspired and exhilarating and all encompassing. The movie is a joy just to simply look at and made all the better with scintillating flourishes of movement.
Dune is cinema. It blows you to the back of your seat and
entrances you with a sophisticated and detailed universe. It regales you with
action and challenges you with ideas. And it never for a second fails to
entertain. It is filmmaking excellence through and through. Even if sci-fi political
dramas with mystical overtones aren’t your cup of tea, you would find this
particular brew delicious anyway.
(Streaming on MAX)
From likely the “largest” film of the year to certainly the “smallest” movie on this list. While the setting and scale of His Three Daughters may be slight, there is nothing small about the thunderous impact it inflicts on to its audience. Writer/Director Azazel Jacobs allows the story of three estranged sisters navigating the emotional quagmire of their family dynamic against the backdrop of their father’s impending death to unfurl naturally and gracefully.
Every individual scene is captivating without a single moment feeling forced or overwrought. All the conflicts feel authentic and earned. The characters differ enough that their purviews are unique but not so alien to one another that we cannot see the family bond that unites them beneath their more superficial types. They feel plausibly related, and the film hinges on this. In fact, when the film is at its best it serves as a much needed reminder that people are complex and to reduce them to convenient tropes undermines that complexity. It contends that when we view someone’s behavior as incomprehensible to us, we fail to explore the true intent of those actions. Or at least the context of those decisions. We don’t grant each other enough grace, and this is especially true of those closest to us.
This works because
the performances of the three daughters are uniformly excellent. Carrie Coon
and Elizabeth Olson are fantastic, while the story allows for Natasha Lyonne to
steal the show on the back of her best film performance to date. But the film
owes the writing for why it is so special. Films like this are exceedingly rare
because of the painstaking emotional labor it requires to write them. His Three
Daughters is a movie in constant search of deeper truths. It mines, and digs,
and plumbs to exhaustion and reminds us that great writing is still blue color
work. Movies today continue to grow bigger, louder, and more expansive. Where
character and conflict often give way to world building and grand scale. His
Three Daughters stands defiant in arguing that the vastest frontiers unexplored
by film are still inward and not outward.
(Streaming on Netflix)
Mankind seems to be at some kind of teetering point of what we want the future of our species to be. We are at the pinnacle of our technological capabilities while arguably scraping the barrel of our moral fortitude. These are dangerous times, and they are also unfortunately too exhausting to tackle head on. Especially with many pulling in opposite directions. No film has captured this crisis more succinctly than Romanian Director Radu Jude’s Do Not Expect Too Much From The End Of The World.
The plot structure is important. Angela is a production assistant who spends long days trapsing all over Eastern Europe interviewing people who have been involved in workplace accidents whose testimonies will be compiled into a safety video for an Austrian furniture multinational. As a side hustle, she also creates lewd TikTok content in the conservative chauvinist vein of a more vulgar Andrew Tate that grow more popular as they grow more distasteful. It is somewhat loose road movie for much of the film, but really starts to settle in during the final third, where we start to see the production of the safety video come into focus.
Two long and immediately iconic scenes eventually emerge. The first is the initial production meeting where the video staff meets with their rich Austrian client via zoom, where the suffering of the actual interviewees is callously nitpicked by a team of dispassionate parties. The second is the nearly thirty-minute final scene oner as a man has his testimony filmed on the site of the man’s life altering accident, family warmly by his side. Over the course of the shoot, the man is massaged and gently coerced into changing details and intent of every sentence of his own story in service of the company who is ultimately at fault for him being paralyzed. The man has the sympathy of the more proletariat film workers, but ultimately not their support. After every wincing concession the man makes, we feel ourselves being driven further from integrity and empathy. Angela takes the opportunity during a production time out to make yet another crass video. "If you can’t beat them, join them" is the mood.
The movie is very funny. The pessimistic satire would be enjoyable if it weren’t so effective in proving its thesis. Do Not Expect Too Much From the End Of The World is perfectly titled. The world does not end with a bang or a whimper. It ends with reluctant, self-serving, sarcastic, but expressly written consent.
(Streaming on Mubi)
It speaks to Robert Eggers prowess as a director that when I heard he was remaking a 100-year-old, German vampire movie, I was immediately confident it would be one of the best movies of the year. He did not disappoint.
The praise for Nosferatu rightfully should begin with the Cinematography. Jarin Blaschke’s collaborations with Robert Eggers have produced some of the most breathtaking captures in the history of cinema, and this is their finest hour. Nosferatu is possibly the most visually arresting film I have ever seen. I make no attempt to hide my preference for writing and story when it comes to film, but I have never needed less in that department for a movie to work for me than I did when seeing this. That’s not to say there isn’t a good story here, because there is a timeless quality to the tale, and this is an inspired rendition of it. There are nice doses of humor, and incredible moments of high drama, and a very cool interpretation of the patriarchal undertones ascribed to women’s sexuality. All I’m saying is that they simply didn’t matter to me as much as they normally would because this is truly special visual art. The scene where we are introduced to Orlock at the castle has been the stick by which all Dracula/Nosferatu films are measured, and it’s absolutely perfect this time around. The lighting and movement and off-kilter blocking that add to the supernatural element are a masterclass. The physical techs are also superlative. The sets and production design might also be the best of the year, the make-up and costuming are beyond reproach and the score is incredible.
Eggers and company internalized what made the original an
enduring classic of German expressionism and manifested that with their own
modern consciousness. What we get is beautiful darkness. A waking nightmare. A
fully realized, surrealist haunt that is a fitting companion to the original
and a new high-water mark of visuals for the industry to build upon. I do want
to mention the performances and how terrific they were. Nicholas Hoult gives
his second shamefully underrated performance of the year (along with Juror #2),
Lily-Rose Depp put some smell back on her rose after the unfortunate reception
of The Idol and William Dafoe is predictably captivating. Bill Skarsgard,
though, continues to amaze in these types of obscure and obfuscating
performances. He’s the MVP among the cast for me, and truly is the third hand
in the trifecta along with Eggers and Blaschke. 100 years from now I suspect we
will be talking about the impact of two incredible Nosferatu films.
(In theatres. Available to rent/buy on Prime Video)
Luca Guadagnino’s Challengers is a perfect film. Everything it sets out to do it does. It was marketed as the sexy tennis movie and it certainly is that, despite having little to no actual sex. It is still properly steamy. Challengers certainly concerns itself with heaving sweaty bodies and the built in symbolism there within, but there is much more than meets the eye to this film.
Challengers depicts lust in its many forms, not just its most salacious. It accentuates the often blurry lines between love and betrayal. It deconstructs the tether between romance and power and asks us to reimagine the essence of sex as not just a physical release but an emotional one. Our three characters, hopelessly intertwined, all have separate motivations that pit them as obstacles to one another, seeking catharsis that naturally compels to and through one another. The central performances are magnificent. Zendaya’s Tashi is the fulcrum on which the triangle pivots, but she is also the least romantic of the group. One could argue the truest romance lies between Mike Faist and Josh O’Connor’s Art and Patrick. O’Connor is a standout here with his rakish charm and downtrodden lovability, but all three are required to make this clock tick.
Equipped with a dynamic and sensational script, Guadagnino revels in the film making. He is one of the most fascinating and evocative directors working today. This could arguably be his best work. Combined with the also excellent Queer, no one has had a more impressive year in 2024. The biggest snub at from the Academy this year, though, was the Atticus Ross and Trent Reznor miss in Best Score. It is the best and most memorable music of the year. As you’ll come to find by reading this list, this year had some outstanding movie endings, and Challengers is very near the top of that list. All threads come to tie so comfortably and fittingly together while a heart pounding climax resolves (don’t forget the movie is also cosplaying as a top-notch sports movie) while still ending on a splendidly ponderous note. Challengers might be the tidiest and most rewarding watch of the entire year. Honestly perfect.
(Streaming on Prime Video)
Every now and again we are treated to vestiges of the long lost Classic Hollywood Epic in modern cinema. But nothing since 2007’s There Will Be Blood has felt as thoroughly seismic as Brady Corbet’s The Brutalist. The story is painted in bold broad strokes and carried out by the best ensemble of the year, sputtering off multiple classic set pieces over the enormous three and half hour run time. The Brutalist has the audacious heft of a retro studio classic, and the Vista-Vision filmstock to match, but also the conscientious modesty of an indie. Because of this pairing we get a movie that feels like The 10 Commandments for a budget that is just 10. As in 10 million dollars estimated. To put that in perspective, The Rock’s Christmas romp, Red One, had a budget over 300 million. Only one of those movies will be winning Best Cinematography at this year’s Oscars.
Corbet may have “Orson Wellesed” himself a bit here, because after just his third feature he seems to be banging his head off the ceiling of directorial possibilities. The opening 20 minutes or so of this movie are the most invigorating minutes of film I saw all year. And the final 20 are a downright masterpiece. This is a ferocious picture and one that will likely win him a well-earned Best Director Oscar. Where does he go from here? I bet we will all be fortunate when we find out. Going back to the performances, they are career bests from virtually everyone in the cast. Adrian Brody is a confounding actor to me in that he has two of the all-time great performances, and then a great deal of stuff I am unmoved by. But here he shoulders an incredible weight, embodying this character with such specificity, where every scene of the movie hinges on his frighteningly authentic portrayal. Guy Pearce, also in career form (and also Oscar nominated), evaporates into his character. He is a captivating, if frustrating, patchwork of historical moguls and conveys his duplicitousness with aplomb. He’s a scene stealer in the best acted movie of the year. Felicity Jones (you guessed it, also Oscar nominated) is every bit as special as her male counterparts, even with lesser screen time. Her presence hangs over the film even in scenes where she is not present or hasn’t even been formally introduced. ]
I was enveloped by this film and the only
times I was shaken from my stupor was the moments of such excellent craftwork
that I paused to acknowledge how special it was. The sound and score are both
possibly the best of the year and perhaps unsurprisingly for a movie about
architecture, as was the set design. The Brutalist is the freshest example we
have of the harrowing American immigrant story. It explains that the version of
the American Dream you are entitled to often depends squarely on the soil you
were born upon. It begs you to consider what you would endure for just one kick
at the can. How much indignation, degradation, and concession can one withstand
to leave their mark and stake their claim? What does your legacy mean to you? What does winning actually look like? The final moment asserts that
ultimately it is the destination and not the journey that matters. Whether or
not our hero still believes that in the end is a matter of debate. The
Brutalist being one of the best movies of the year, however, is not.
(In Theatres)
Coralie Fargeat’s explosive and furious parable is the first body horror film to ever garner a Best Picture nomination from the Academy. It accomplished this behind its unwavering and incisive critiques of the showbiz industry and its voracious consumption of the female form. The Substance is a resounding and scathing indictment of the male gaze, and it really holds your nose in it to nauseating ends. It is the movie equivalent of your parents finding you smoking a cigarette and making you finish the whole pack.
Fargeat exposes the industry’s habit of propping itself up with the hyper-sexualization of woman and then their quick disposal once their bodies naturally begin to break down. While the men in suits are certainly the main aim of the film’s ireful message, it also examines the others who are culpable by participating in and benefitting from such an industry. It illustrates the impact that this mechanism has on one’s self-worth and the dangerous pitfalls that it can breed. These messages and others are delivered to us by a career best performance from Demi Moore, who garners her first Oscar nomination for the trouble. The parallels to her real life and career require little imagination to decipher. To her credit, Moore is ten years the senior of her character that is being discarded due to her age, so well done there. Margaret Qualley puts forth a shamefully underrated supporting turn that I didn’t fully appreciate until a second viewing as Moore’s younger foil.
The fact that the performances are what stand out from this film is a ringing testament to their excellence, because this movie is positively bonkers. The make up is unquestionably the best of the year, the sound is intricate and provocative, and the set design provides a backsplash of a strange facsimile of our reality. Smaller and more hollow, yet altogether real. Make no mistake, this is pure body horror though. Cronenberg would blush as the absurdity mounts in the final half hour. Of all the Best Picture nominations this year, this one feels the most out of place, but that is precisely why it is so magnificent that it is there. It is emphatically not for everyone, but fans of the genre will get their fill and then some. For me, I was expected the movie to get to a volume of ten and when it did, I was delighted. I never suspected that it was holding back a twelve in the final moments.
I was enthralled and invigorated by this movie more than any other
this year. A second viewing proved to be even more enriching. The movie’s message
bludgeons you over the head, but there are surprisingly subtle notes that hide
underneath, and ultimately might linger longer. This is why The Substance is
finding more footing than any film of its kind ever has before. Without realizing
it, I think we collectively needed this message to be delivered in this way. We
shouldn’t play nice with cannibals.
(Streaming on Mubi. Available to rent/buy on Prime Video)
Nickel Boys is not the first film to utilize the first person POV visual device and it certainly isn’t the first film to unearth a painful and embarrassing aspect of our country’s shamefully racist past. But I think it might be the most affecting and meaningful example of each. Here Ramell Ross and cinematographer Jamo Fray use the POV not as a gimmick but as a method of storytelling essential to the effectiveness of the story. By deciding to shoot exclusively this way we are not a party to the indignities suffered by our lead characters but surrogate victims of them. We are not permitted to look away or shirk them off as unfortunate acts inflicted onto others, but as a recipient ourselves. It also gives us a more microscopic view of the myriad tiny cuts that undermine the characters humanity when not being overtly physically abused. Which if not necessarily worse, are definitely more plentiful.
Because of the vantage point we are closer to the villainy than ever before, but also actively participating in the defiant search for beauty against the horrifying circumstances. Many such stories focus too narrowly on the revulsive behavior and not enough on surrounding warmth. Ross refuses to allow this to be a bitter picture, and in doing so, accentuates all that is lost by such senseless violence. Our world can be a vivacious, wonderful place if only we allow it to be. Which makes it that much more tragic that we choose to be so needlessly cruel. The jarring juxtapositions of disgustingly regressive racist treatment interspliced with the astonishing progress of the space program in this era further accentuates how backward and barbaric these types of academies and philosophies were, even in their own time.
I don’t want to get too granular in my analysis because that will likely entail spoilers, but Nickel Boys only gets richer with deeper rumination. It is a singularly felt film while watching it, but very cerebral when looking back. There is such a beautiful melody of images captured that when quilted together excavate an ethereal feeling as much as a satisfying story. This is palpable film making. Yet the soul rendering semi-true screen play is also one of the best of the year, and its manner of telling makes it likely the best adaptation of 2024. It is lyrical in its presentation. It is meticulous in its visuals and surprising in bursts. All of this eventually culminates in the most gutting finishing flourish I can remember. I was a husk as the credits rolled, and likely forever changed by having experienced this profound poem of a film. It is likely the most important film of the year in both style and in substance.
(In Theatres)
No movie this year had more headlong propulsion than Sean Baker’s warped Cinderella story Anora. The writer/director is no stranger to sleazy tales about complicated people (almost exclusively sex workers), but I believe this is easily his most accessible work despite the ample obscenity. It is certainly his most likably protagonist, at least since Tangerine.
Mikey Madison, in a star making turn, might give the best lead actress performance of the year as the plucky title character, battling her way to a better life either with charm or with claws. She is the most obvious upgrade from Baker’s other films, a bright young actor capable of properly conveying the complexity of her character. The cast across the board is superb and elevates the already outstanding script, possibly the best of the of the year. It is more plot reliant than most of Baker’s films, all have which preferred to investigate the unique characters more than give them things to do. It feels weird to say, but with Anora, Sean Baker may have made his least interesting and best film to date. It has more mainstream sensibility, but it maintains his signature vulgar effervescence.
The movie follows Anora (“Annie”), a stripper and escort who, by virtue of her ability to speak adequate Russian, finds herself in a whirlwind romance with the son of Russian Oligarchs. It feels equal parts love and the seizure of an opportunity but quickly begins to rip at the seams once the in-laws get involved. Anora cosplays a fairy tale only to have harsh reality swiftly heaped upon her. The crushing lesson being that, for most people, these instances only occur in story books. The tough and streetwise Anora allotted herself one moment to dare to dream and got summarily smashed back into her place. Even the most battle-worn women once fancied themselves as little princesses.
Some of the best belly laughs of the year dot the journey and there is a twenty-or-so minutes long scene near the middle of the film that is the funniest and possibly best sequence of the year. It brilliantly showcases the paradox of humor. Humor can be simultaneously heroic and cowardly. To stand ten toes down in front of pain and smile is an act of bravery. But humor can also be the crutch that permits us the distance to curtail feeling the full gravity of that pain. In Anora, the humor serves as a thin transparent membrane that barely separates us from the character’s obvious and visible tragedy. Until in the heart wrenching final moments the skin rips and we find ourselves ankle deep in all the anguish and frustration that had been readily apparent all along. All of the brash bluster of Anora’s carefully cultivated hard exterior gives way to her immense vulnerability. Here the unvarnished trapping of sex work becomes overt. That when sex becomes purely transactional, in what other ways can we express authentic intimacy? Sean Baker took four films to finally arrive at his thesis, and he packaged it within the most enthusiastic, hilarious, captivating and flat-out best movie of the year.
(Available to rent on Prime Video)
So there you have it. My humble ranking of the best movies this year had to offer. In a tumultuous year globally and glancing out at uncertain future these films were here to dazzle and challenge us. I am thankful for the artists and incredible craftspeople for their diligent work Thank you for reading and absolutely let me know your opinions in the comment section. Debate is the best part of doing this. As always, below are my honorable mentions because 10 just couldn't quite grasp all that 2024 had to offer. See you all in 2025!
HONORABLE MENTIONS: #11-15 (IN ALPHABETICAL ORDER)
A REAL PAIN (Hulu)
KINDS OF KINDNESS (Hulu)
LOVE LIES BLEEDING (MAX)
SATURDAY NIGHT (Netflix)
SNACK SHACK (Prime Video)
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