Best Films of 2024

Best Films of 2024

 

1.        Perfect Days, dir. Wim Wenders. In 2020, the son of the founder of Fast Retailing (the parent company of Uniqlo), Koji Yanai, funded a series of bathrooms in Tokyo in preparation of the 2020 Olympics, designed by famous Japanese architects, including Shigeru Ban and Tadao Ando. Because of the strict COVID protocols in place in the summer of 2021 that limited the audiences allowed into Japan for the Games, few, if any, saw the bathrooms that Yanai funded. A year later, Yanai provided funding to the Toyo Film Festival, where Wim Wenders was chairing the jury panel, Yanai asked Wenders if he would be interested in making a short documentary about the bathrooms, since so few had seen them during the Games. Wenders toured the 17 bathrooms built in the Shibuya district, and told Yanai that he would not make a documentary, but he was intrigued about making a narrative film imagining the life of the janitor that would clean these bathrooms every day. Sounds like a strange idea for a movie (and Yanai was not convinced that it would work or even be completed), but in crafting a story around a toilet cleaner (played to perfection by the talented character actor Koji Yakusho), Wenders in Perfect Days has helmed an almost perfect movie. Fittingly, the worldwide success of the movie, after premiering to acclaim at Cannes in 2023, has prompted surging interest in Yanai’s toilets.

 

2.        Babygirl, dir. Halina Reijn. Nicole Kidman, in the latest chapter of her rather storied career, has continued to take risky, unorthodox roles. Additionally, she is one of the few actresses who has made it a priority to work with female directors. Because of her star power, her attachment to projects from Susanna Bier, Karyn Kusama, and Jane Campion attracts financing and has helped boost the visibility of these filmmakers. Reijn, a classically trained Dutch stage actress who had previously directed the comedy horror Bodies Bodies Bodies, directs Kidman here as a CEO who entangles herself in a lusty affair with an intern in her company. The film delves into female sexuality, freshly told by and for women here, who feel unable to communicate their needs to their partner and experience ecstasy in increasingly forbidding circumstances. Kidman and the British heartthrob shine in this tale of forbidden love that becomes a morality tale of offending HR policy. The ending may feel anticlimactic, but in true ironic fashion, Nicole finally experiences an orgasm in the contained space of her home. The film reasserts the power of the domestic sphere as the container of female sexuality. Perhaps, retrograde, but it’s worth it for Harris telling her: “I think you want to be told what to do,” as Nicole drinks an entire glass of milk. 

3.        Conclave, dir. Edward Berger. Who knew that we needed a papal election thriller in the year of our Lord, 2024? A movie that feels like a throwback to the 90s that became one of the greatest meme generators of last year, Conclave provides bitchy, campy fun as the Dean of the College of the Cardinals (in a triumphant performance from Ralph Fiennes) tries to hold the Cardinals together to vote for a new pope. There are reactionary conservative cardinals and liberal ones, and everyone is jockeying for their votes. Isabella Rossellini is the only one who can operate an email or a copy machine, and she provides much of the intrigue and comedy of this film, as she attempts to undermine the electoral desires of some of these Cardinals. There’s a twist at the end, too, which feels earned and on point for a film that, in many ways, feels quite old fashioned. 

4.        Soundtrack to a Coup d’Etat, dir. Johan Grimonprez. It was established during the Church Committee investigations of 1975 that the CIA had carried out numerous attempts to assassinate the freely elected leader of the Congo, Patrice Lumumba. Congo, a former colony personally held by King Leopold II of Belgium, was in the midst of a strong push towards decolonization, which proved a destabilizing force to African politics during the heat of the Cold War. Because of Congo’s holding of uranium resources, American and European forces were petrified of the Soviet Union engaging with Lumumba and the Congo. This documentary, a frontrunner for the Oscar for Best Documentary Feature, narrates the story of Lumumba and Congo from the perspective of Black jazz artists, such as Nina Simone, Louis Armstrong, Ornette Coleman, who penned songs about Congo or who had traveled to Africa and Eastern Bloc countries, under the auspices of the State Dept or in more nefarious circumstances, the CIA itself, to celebrate race relations in the U.S., mostly to contradict Khruschev, who railed against the perceived hypocrisy of Americans who held a self-righteous moral superiority over the world, when it seemed blatantly apparent that the Americans were mistreating its own citizens of color. The film provides an excellent overview of this history, and with its deployment solely of archival footage and extensive footnotes, it provides anyone interested with a wealth of primary sources they can consult after viewing. 

5.         Challengers, dir. Luca Guadagnino. This love triangle seems to make explicit Eve Kosofky Sedgwick’s argument in Between Men that the Victorian novel was predicated on a relationship between two men whose simultaneous interest in a demure lady was often masking their own desire for each other. Mike Faist and Josh O’Connor are promising tennis players, who are both enchanted by an even more talented  Zendaya, and compete with each other to win her affections. Faist wins her hand in marriage, but then her career falls apart after an injury. She molds her husband to be a champion, but his playing hits a slump, and she manipulates O’Connor to come back into the picture to spur on her husband to his previous capabilities. The sexual politics are intriguing, and the swift editing, and thumping beats of Trent Reznor’s score create one of the great crowd pleasers of this year. 

6.        The Brutalist, dir. Brady Corbet. Yes, it is too long. And yes, the second half not only fails to resolve much of the first half, it simultaneously overcomplicates the plot even further; but the sheer audacity of this three-and-a-half-hour epic merits a viewing. An Hungarian architect (Adrien Brody, in his second tour de force Holocaust performance of his career) comes to America after surviving the labor camps to rebuild his life and send for his wife. He was trained by Bauhaus and now sets out to make a new architecture for the postwar world using raw concrete (béton brut, the etymological origin of the term Brutalism). Guy Pearce chews up the scenery in a dastardly, mustache-twirling role of Brody’s patron, a role that becomes darker and darker as the film progresses. The film may want to cover every aspect of the postwar world, and it may fail in providing a sense of completion, but Corbet has made a Movie (with a capital M) that demands engagement. 

7.        The Substance, dir. Coralie Fargeat. Margaret Qualley is borne from Demi Moore’s spine after she drinks a potion she picks up from a locker in the Inland Empire. It is disgusting and gross, but Demi, who has been fired from her fitness show due to the horror of turning 50, has made a Faustian bargain that her newly created ideal younger self will obtain her stolen glory. Unfortunately, no one respects the balance, and her ideal self wrests control of the substance and further degrades Demi’s body in an iconic battle of wits, wills, and bodies. Body horror has now been told through a feminist lens. 

8.        Dune: Part Two, dir. Denis Villeneuve. The complicated evolution of Paul Atreides is further covered in the second chapter of the Dune movies. With a powerhouse performance from Rebecca Ferguson as his manipulative mother, we see the darkness growing within Paul. Does he see himself as the messiah that he denied throughout the first iteration of this story? Will he force a reckoning with the Empire. Will he become the dictator that Zendaya fears he will become? Dune II seemed to be a frontrunner for awards attention when it was released in February, but faded into the background as the year progressed, and must resign itself to only a handful of nominations, almost entirely in the production categories. Villeneuve will need to helm a final third part to this trilogy that reignites audiences in order for it to receive its due.  

9.        Wicked, Part 1, dir. Jon Chu. This is the only film in the top ten of the 2024 domestic and international box office that is not a sequel. In a market awash in reboots, sequels, and caped crusaders, we got a blockbuster musical reboot of The Wizard of Oz telling a sympathetic origin story of the much-maligned caped witch. And it has been split into two parts, with Part II scheduled for release next year. So maybe, just like the other nine top-grossing movies, it is a reboot and serialized movie about a caped crusader. However, it sated an unmet need for a blockbuster geared towards women (and gay men) starring a Broadway powerhouse and pop diva (respectively, Cynthia Erivo and Ariana Grande). And although the cinematography is washed out, seeing this film fleshed out from the Broadway production was the screen’s biggest crowd-pleaser of the year.

10.  A Real Pain, dir. Jesse Eisenberg. Two cousins travel to Poland to see the house that their grandmother lived in before she was transported to Auschwitz. Hijinks and comedy ensue. Yes, this may sound like the start of a Woody Allen sketch, but Jesse Eisenberg has directed a sentimental and sweet flick about the ways families love each other and drive each other crazy. Kieran Culkin, in a reminiscent fashion to his performance on Succession, is manic and exasperating, but constrained just enough to still be endearing.  

11.  Anora, dir. Sean Baker. It is a Cinderella fable for the 21^st century, wherein a stripper is picked up by a Russian oligarch’s son to be whisked away to a Vegas chapel to be married, only to discover that his parents are dead set against these nuptials? The film suffers when the son disappears and it is turned into a caper flick, but the star-making turn of Mikey Madison makes up for some of the contrivances in the second half of the film. It also doesn’t hurt that the bodyguard portrayed by Yuri Borisov is true eye candy. 

 

12.  The Wild Robot, dir. Chris Sanders. I did not expect this to be the tearjerker of the year. A robot is accidentally dropped into the middle of a forest and becomes the adoptive mother to a gosling. A touching morality tale of the families we choose. The animation is charming and the payoff is forceful. 

13.  The Bikeriders, dir. Jeff Nichols. This does feel a bit like the motorcycle gang version of Challengers. Once again, a love triangle involving Tom Hardy, Jodie Comer, and Austin Butler erupts across the backdrop of a real-life Midwestern gang called the Vandals. Much of the imagery is based on the photography of Danny Lyon, who chronicled this world in the 1960s. In line with these stills, Butler’s character is filmed in almost golden auras, demonstrating his status as the object of affection in this cinematic world. The currents of desire and violence are intertwined and wrapped around the engines of the motorbikes.

14.  Nosferatu, dir. Robert Eggers. Do we need another Dracula movie? A crowded field, there is no doubt, especially with entries from Herzog and Coppola, alongside those black and white classics helmed by Murnau and Browning of the early 20^th century. There are many out there that would tend to agree that we may not have needed Eggers’ version of this story; however, the moody cinematography, tormented performances from Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Lily-Rose Depp, and Nicholas Hoult, and delightful hideousness of Bill Skarsgård (our generation’s Lon Chaney) all working in concert to make explicit the ties of our bloodsucking vampire and female sexuality are delightful reasons to revisit this classic tale.      

15.  Dahomey, dir. Mati Diop. This innovative documentary follows 26 royal treasures of Dahomey being returned to Benin after being on display at the Parisian Museum of Quai Branly since the looting of a palace in the late nineteenth century. The film follows the artifacts as they return to West Africa and asks what this means for the nation and people of Benin. A fascinating film that ponders the questions now rattling the art world. 

16.  The Apprentice, dir. Ali Abbasi. The release of this film seems most ill-timed. The film is far too nuanced about Donald Trump to be embraced by either his supporters or by his opponents, and in the lead up to the 2024 election, we were all firmly in one of those two camps. The film, however, posits that Trump became a monster only after his mentorship from Roy Cohn (performed by Jeremy Strong in his usual full-Method way), and such a monster that even Cohn didn’t recognize him after his transformation. Thus, you have a film that begins with a sympathetic portrayal of Trump that transmongrifies itself into a pitiful representation of the death of Roy Cohn. An odd experience to view this of a man who is now taking a wrecking ball to the federal government.  

17.  Maria, dir. Pablo Larraín, and A Complete Unknown, dir. James Mangold. Two musical biopics, one year. It is a study in contrasts: one is staid portrayal of the final years of the 20^th century’s greatest opera singer, and the other is a dynamic, if constrained, portrayal of one of the great shifts in American popular music when the greatest folksinger went electric. Do Callas and Dylan require this type of attention? They have both become icons, almost untethered from their earthly forms. The films seem intent on not humanizing them but explaining why it is that we have idolized them. As the biopic genre becomes the most reliable vehicle for actors to become Oscar winners, and for studios to engage in prestige filmmaking, these will only be mere episodes in the apotheosis of this sub-genre.   

18.  Sing Sing, dir. Greg Kwedar. A theater troupe in a prison puts on a mélange of a show that involves vaudeville and Shakespeare’s Hamlet. Colman Domingo is surrounded by an actual prison troupe of actors and rises to the occasion. The film is inherently rough around the edges—by design—with a heavy-handed and trite moral of art’s transformative power, but it does pose some real questions of what, if any, purpose is served by mass incarceration.  

19.  Nickel Boys, dir. RaMell Ross. Colson Whitehead’s Pulitzer prizewinning novel told the depressing story of a segregated juvenile delinquent facility in Florida of the 1960s. Two young men are bonded at Nickel, only to have tragedy and despondency visit them. The novel was a fast-paced and almost cinematic tale; RaMell Ross’ film is set on telling this story in an almost operatic style through a forced perspective and TV aspect ratio. It makes the film version more ponderous and sluggish than the original book; however, it tells a devastating story. 

20.  The Last Showgirl, dir. Gia Coppola.  Pam Anderson delivers a nuanced and shaded performance of a Vegas showgirl whose show is closing for a new iteration of Cirque du Soleil. There is a rather tired sub-plot involving a daughter ashamed of her mother’s work, but the film shines when Jamie lee Curtis and Pam are reliving their glittering pasts among the glitz and glamour of old Vegas.  

21.  Emilia Perez, dir. Jacques Audiard. Is it a bit of a mess? Yes. Does it contain a musical number that contains the immortal line: “From penis to vagina? From man to woman?” Yes. Does Selena Gomez deploy some truly broken Spanish? Certainly. Have many objected to both the representation of the trans characters and to the portrayal of cartel violence in Mexico? Umm, most vocally have critics decried this. Has Karla Sofia Gascon become a bit of a pariah for a set of misguided, racist tweets? Also, yes. Do I still think it’s worth watching on the Netflix? Yeah, sure.