The Top Ten Films of 2024
A tough year for Hollywood meant the smaller stuff could prosper.
10. Flow
Even a CG animation cynic would be hard pressed to challenge the beauty of this enthralling Latvian feature. It seems to take place in a dystopian future (maybe even a revisionist past) where deluge has left wild animals to their own devices with nary a savior Noah’s ark in sight. Not a word of dialogue or narration is uttered, as it would be superfluous. Seen from the gaze of a black cat with worried eyes, this incredible journey is not about going home or attaining some piece of mystical jewelry; it is simply a tale of survival. Witnessing this gaggle of critters follow these primal urges to survive and even disrupt the circle of life to come together is inspirational. There is no need for cloying epitaphs to wash it all down. While pixelated computer animation can be distracting, the imagery is just stylized enough to avoid the uncanny valley even though the characters feel like they are breathing.
Corresponding Dad Joke: When the members of the Academy of Arts and Sciences were conflicted about how to cast their vote for Best Animated Feature, various movie critics told them not to overthink it and just “go with the Flow.” 😆
9. Janet Planet
Playwright Annie Baker’s controversial play The Flick was a divisive but remarkable piece of theater that pandered directly to cinephiles, even if it was at the expense of losing everyone else. It was three hours (yes, you read that right) of innocuous banter but mostly silence as three employees at the last movie theater projecting film sweep up popcorn after several successive showings. It was live action slow cinema. In her film debut, her slow cinema sensibilities are firmly intact, and she brings a charming sense of absurdism to what could have been a paint by numbers bildungsroman story. Much like Joanna Arnow’s excellent That Feeling That the Time for Doing Something Has Passed, the events unfold more impressionistically as single mother Janet (Julianne Nicholson) distances herself from her eleven year old daughter Lacy (Zoe Zegler) with every questionable relationship to which she engages. Though it can easily be considered a work of ultra-realism, Baker’s allure is finding an idiosyncratic rhythm of behavior that allows for wry humorous moments as well as a suggested sense that this reality is a distortion. Nicholson has been the reliable go-to performer for life related roles of ailing wife and mother; though she’s once again a mother here, it’s at least her own story and she fills it in beautifully.
Corresponding Dad Joke: What do you call a space colony overrun by clones of Michael Jackson’s sister? A Janet Planet! 😆
8. All We Imagine as Light
The common depiction of an Indian metropolis is a freneticism that is ultra urban but rarely urbane. From Salaam Bombay to Slumdog Millionaire to Monkey Man, one could vicariously sweat at the sight of another chaotic, claustrophobic street scene. Credit Payel Capadia (making her narrative feature debut after the excellent documentary A Night of Knowing Nothing) for presenting a tender and demure Mumbai without ignoring the complications that come with it. We follow Prabha (Kani Kusruti), an independent woman working as a nurse in the big city who, separated from her arranged marriage, longs for connection. Meanwhile, Anu (Divya Prabha) explores a forbidden affair with a Muslim man, though their encounters feel anything but. Though their situations could be easily fraught with tension, Capadia substitutes volatility with melancholy but also hope, and achieves this with marvelous mystical camera work and scoring rarely equaled since Terrence Malick’s masterful Days of Heaven. The result is a poetic celebration of the beauty of Mumbai, both the city and its people.
Corresponding Dad Joke: All I imagine as light is this blasted Amazon package I have to carry up the stairs! 😆
7. The Storm
Definitely the deepest cut on this list, this Chinese animated gem’s theatrical run was so brief it seems to barely exist. Unadvertised or reviewed, it dropped at Chicago’s AMC Block 37 Dine In in January 2024. I was the sole audience member (not including a young woman and her emotional support dog who left during the beginning credits), and I checked Letterboxd afterwards to find it did not have enough ratings for a consensus score. Whether I actually saw this film last year or experienced some sort of a beautiful lucid dream, I witnessed a transcendent event. Director Busifan proves to be a capable heir apparent to Hayao Miyazaki with this glorious 2D animated fairy epic. Much like Spirited Away, young Montou ventures onto a mysterious black ship to find his monster afflicted father. There he meets a bevy of anthropomorphic zoophiliac spirits. While it is difficult to avoid comparing Busifan’s work to Ghibli, it never feels derivative. That could be attributed to the director’s kinetic visual style that moves at an aggressive speed that carries the audience through a subconscious living painting. If it exists, I can’t wait to take this ride again.
Corresponding Dad Joke: If I wanted to watch something no American has ever heard of, I’d just watch that Robbie Williams chimp movie. 😆
6. That Feeling That the Time for Doing Something Has Passed
Low budget, ultra realist American independent films like the Mumblecore movement certainly have their own scrappy charm. However, their ambition is often so facile that room to evolve is not only unexplored but defied. They become celebrations of “Yay! We made a movie at all! And with so little money! Go us!” After all, is an almond butter and fig jelly sandwich REALLY an improvement? Nevertheless, Joanna Arnow may have finally found the right spin on the material to make these films interesting again without sacrificing their defining simplicity. The premise is simple enough. Thirty three year old Ann (Arnow herself) replaces real emotional intimacy with the frivolity of fetishistic encounters with a wealthy older man (underrated character actor Scott Cohen). She then finds a more meaningful relationship with Chris (Babak Tafti), but finds herself with different kinds of struggles to connect. What sets this film apart from similar fare is its unique sense of composition and pacing. Scenes rarely run longer than a minute or two, becoming more of a story told through glimpses and brief moments of a person’s life, like a succession of moving portraits. Reminiscent of its bizarro counterpart Jeanne Dielman. . ., a fixed camera captures room sized mise en scenes consistently throughout, emphasizing the empty spaces evocative of the droll silences that yield more laughs than cat Tik-Tok’s. Beyond the silences and empty spaces, the omission of certain information between scenes beautifully infers information that could launch an overdue crusade against exposition as we know it.
Corresponding Dad Joke: I could buy a perfectly good used lawnmower for the budget of this movie! I have a feeling that time has passed. 😆
5. Universal Language
Matthew Rankin came out of nowhere with his debut and 2020’s best film The Twentieth Century, a gratuitous Guy Maddin pastiche that was every bit as hilarious and visually inventive as the master’s best work. However, he proves to be more than just Maddin’s protege with this sophomore effort, taking on another pastiche, this time of Iranian master Abbas Kiarostami and his contemporaries. The separate plots are certainly simple enough to be stripped out of Kanoon, as different characters travel through sparse terrains to unearth cash from under ice, lead banal city tours, and visit their mother, respectively. Rankin even uses a mostly Persian cast who speak Persian exclusively throughout. What sets the film apart from its predecessors is the local color Rankin exploits by setting the film in his hometown of Winnipeg in the winter. The brutal cold amongst brutalist architecture creates a fitting vehicle for absurdist comedy, but also highlights the desire of the disheartened to search for sparks amid the dank. Even with another artistic mimesis, Rankin still feels like a fresh new voice.
Corresponding Dad Joke: Winnipeg looks so cold and flavorless, like dairy free ice cream or a McDonald’s hamburger. 😆
4. In a Violent Nature
Horror cinema has been operating with the same output and quality inconsistencies for decades now. As a result, any type of fresh reinvention of the genre tastes like yolk in an eggless dystopia. With a simple shift in scope, director Chris Nash circumvents tired slasher movie tropes to create a new kind, putting the focus on mood and tone. Much of the film is viewed through the over the shoulder perspective of the central reanimated corpse/slasher Johnny in long static shots with no musical score. This allows the audience to follow Johnny (rather than fully take on his perspective) with the impending doom that whoever crosses his path dozens of feet ahead is down to their last dozen breaths. The slow journey becomes progressively less settling with every audible crunch of a leaf below Johnny’s feet. For the casual gore fan, there’s enough flamboyant splatter that could make even Art the Clown squeamish. A memorable denouement explores the tension and endlessness that infiltrate a victim’s ride home after the slaughter.
Corresponding Dad Joke:I haven’t looked over this many shoulders since I cheated on the SAT’s! 😆
3. Nickel Boys
With Hale County, This Morning, This Evening, Ramell Ross brought an evocative beauty to a simple subject matter rarely seen in documentary filmmaking. It was something akin to morphing red light camera footage into The Wasteland; perhaps the best documentary of that decade. His skills and sensibility carry over into fiction filmmaking like gangbusters, even elevating Colson Whitehead’s already solid novella. Though the capable cast definitely delivers here, Ross does not put the entire onus on the actors to flesh out the characters’ experiences. Using a considerable amount of first person perspective, Ross recreates Elwood and Turner’s (Ethan Herisse and Brandon Wilson) tumultuous experience as young black men in a Florida juvenile detention center, forcing the audience to take on the characters’ gaze for themselves rather than being exclusively at the mercy of a single actor’s performance. Whereas the novel filled in every expository gap with narration, the film tasks the audience to experience these events impressionistically. However, the gaze is not entirely naturalistic either, and blown up onto a large screen juxtaposed with other unorthodox compositions, feels all the more encompassing for it. Ross is a true pioneer.
Corresponding Dad Joke: I thought this movie was going to be about two Thomas Jeffersons! 😆
2. Aggro Dr1ft
The term “acquired taste” seems more pejorative than not. It basically announces to the world that not only will some people maybe not like the product, many definitely will not. However, what makes a taste acquired is that it does not go down easy. It’s different. It’s complex. It’s even challenging. Les enfant terribles Harmony Korine could not have written a less watchable movie than his debut Kids (at least to my cynical teenage self) but then evolved quickly as an assured filmmaker whose work to which I can’t take my eyes off. The acquired taste started as something ugly but became something beautiful not in spite of its warts but because of them. He has yet to make a film that resembles his last, and it could not be literally more true here. His prototypical crime drama about Miami’s drug cabal is shot with infrared cameras. The thin plot is shoved into the backseat while the mood and style drive a gloriously twisted joyride upfront. Korine seamlessly blends the visual heat with demonic imagery (horns, bat wings, skulls, etc.) creating a visceral fever dream that haunts to the core. The sensation is a neon nightmare that feels as blistering as the heat its cameras captures, what hell must look and feel like all once. Whether one is enthralled or repulsed, the master of the absurd, grotesque, and cringe delivers.
Corresponding Dad Joke:When this movie made people uncomfortable and they demanded refunds, they yelled “More like Aggro GR1FT!” 😆
And the best film of 2024 is. . .
1. The Brutalist
This epic length Oscar bait period drama about early America and its eponymous Dream is certainly low hanging fruit for the movie of the year. Still, with all the noble failures this past year (film, television, Presidential campaigns, etc.), one that takes this many swings for the fences but ALSO delivers in such a sublime fashion is undeniably the Most Valuable Player. Its breathtaking opening shot moves from dank chaos to a disorienting swirl of hope, indicative of the next three and a half hours. Adrien Brody broke through with another story of a Jewish artist’s will to survive amidst the second World War; here, part of his survival is his dependence to fulfill his artistic genius in a culture keen on exploiting it. Hungarian immigrant architect Laszlo Toth (Brody) panders to a wealthy benefactor (a career best Guy Pearce) who gives him the opportunities and resources to not only survive but create a seismic shifting monument that would impact not only his career but the field as a whole for years to come. However, capitalism is rarely a benevolent motif despite its sheepskin exterior, and Toth muddles through every obstacle, and not a second of his journey is dull nor boring. In only his third feature film, former child actor Brady Corbet has created an intoxicating narrative that visually dazzles from frame to frame (the first film shot in Vista Vision in decades) and serves up an intoxicating narrative where hope is always alive even when the danger is imminent.
Corresponding Dad Joke: An employee at Anheuser Busch isn’t sure which batch in which barrel he should brew first. When he goes for the short barrel, his foreman interjects, “No! Brew tallest!”
Runner’s Up (not in any order):
The People’s Joker
Conclave
Chimera
The Green Border
Joker: Folie a Deux
Love Lies Bleeding
Stopmotion
The Breaking Ice
Riddle of Fire
Do Not Expect Too Much from the End of the World
Mars Express
Last Summer
National Anthem
Look Into My Eyes
Memoir of a Snail
Nocturnes
A Real Pain
Wallace and Gromit: Veangeance Most Fowl
Other Accolades:
Overrated
Anora
The rapturous praise for this film was baffling, especially compared to Sean Baker’s earlier work. He has a great eye for visuals (especially still lifes) and an innate ability to make unlikable characters funny and even charming. Unfortunately, he does not achieve either here. The look of the film is depressingly flat, and the overlong slapstick third act is an unfunny slog. Likable characters are not necessarily prerequisites for an endearing narrative, but manchild Vanya (Mark Eydelshteyn; meh) is so flaccid, vacuous, and annoying that it is difficult to see what he offers Anora (Mikey Madison). Obviously it could be the copious wealth, but when all they do together is what she does every night anyway, what’s changed? He never espouses to respect her nor love her for who she is, so, once again, why bother? Save for the end, there are few moments of nuance and vulnerability that justify any allure for this lifestyle or why she might yearn for it. There were ways to make this story work, but none of them are on screen.
Underrated
The Exorcism
The handful of people who actually saw this scrappy indie horror were not impressed. True, the film is not exactly the similarly titled The Exorcist or even the also similarly titled The Pope’s Exorcist. Does it get silly in a more risible than fun way in the end? Can’t deny it. However, it does feature one of the more interesting performances of the year in Russell Crowe, maybe his best since American Gangster. Crowe, looking more like his Jeffrey Geiger character from The Insider than ever, plays a washed up film actor whose glory days of playing Maximus like roles are far behind him. He gets a chance at a comeback playing a priest in a new exorcism themed film, but finds himself bombing in the role until he gets in TOO deep into character. Honestly, there are few actors who could quite fit the bill here like Crowe does, and his similar real life trajectory gives him much in which to connect. Nevertheless, his ability to play “bad acting” in his character’s film within a film is particularly nuanced and even authentic, as he delivers lines with a listlessness that subtly shows his character’s frustration for acting so badly underneath it all. It’s like he eventually surrenders his soul to the devil as a test to see if he has one. Though far from a masterpiece, it’s far from a failure.
Most Pleasant Surprise
Better Man
Add a tincture of irony to its trailer, and one would think this Robbie Williams musical biopic was a joke. It does feature a motion capture chimpanzee in the lead role, an animal synonymous with broad humor since they first donned a tutu and rolled out on skates at the circus. Beyond the gimmick, the story is a rather straightforward biopic with the typical drug addiction, daddy issues, and relevancy phobias. Yet, somehow, the blasted thing works! The motion capture performance by Jonno Davies (with Williams voicing himself) provides all the expressiveness and nuances of a human performance, which, truth be told, would have probably been heavily scrutinized for its accuracy as an impression otherwise. At least when it’s a chimpanzee, there’s no need to check for authenticity. Also, to say that the music numbers slap is an understatement. They are as fluid, kinetic, and exciting as any Marvel action set piece. The film tanked in America supposedly because Robbie Williams is not quite the icon here than he is in the UK; here’s hope that this delightful romp finds a cult following to rectify that.
Biggest Disappointment
Rumours
Guy Maddin is a master of combining experimentation with hilarity, and, forty years into his brilliant career, has been unprecedentedly topping himself with one exciting project after another. While this streak does not come to a screeching halt exactly with his newest film, the conventional gloss and polish of his star studded comedy made his gonzo sense of humor feel frivolous. This is not to say that this film does not have its share of idiosyncrasies, but the choice to make it more character and actor driven makes one miss Maddin’s gruffer brand of remixing old motifs. With all the people sitting around and talking, this might as well have been a stage play.
Worst of the Year
The Book of Clarence
This is my annual disclaimer that I am sure there were worse movies that I did not see. Still, when you see 100+ movies a year, there’s bound to be some stinkers.
The first 2024 film I saw last year was topped by literally everything else I saw from that point on. Calling this painful and empty two hour endeavor a mess would be giving it too much credit. Messes are audacious. Messes take risks. Messes are interesting. This retelling of the Christ story with an all black cast presents no ideas that furthers any new insight on the world’s most recognizable story. Instead, it tells unfunny jokes that fall flat on their face (“I love the way you add a syllable to my name” after the other does not do that. Huh?) ; when that gets old, the tone shifts to melodrama when the titular Clarence (Lakeith Stanfield; wasted here) inexplicably goes through the exact same beats as a Jesus in the crucifixion story. But Jesus exists in this universe, too. So, does the same thing happen to him? He’s not crucified then? Is Clarence Jesus then? Because he was nice to a few slaves? What? It lazily slogs through a muddle of empty moments in hopes that the capable cast will rescue it. The last moment is so head slappingly stupid that it is clear writer/director Jeymes Samuels had nothing original to say. He just inserts flat unmemorable characters into a story without elevating or twisting any of it. Defenders of the film insist that in spite of its OBVIOUS flaws, it’s at least entertaining. What exactly is entertaining about a comedy that is not funny? What exactly is entertaining about a tragedy with no tension and disposable characters? These same people insist Samuels is a director to watch; if this is all he is capable of, he’s one to watch walk away.
