“They don’t have any idea that the movie business is over. They have no idea.” – Jerry Seinfeld (director of Unfrosted)

“There’s this kind of strange thing that I find with reactions from a general audience where a lot of the rhetoric they’re citing seems to be very corporate. People are talking about box office receipts versus whether or not it was a great movie.” – Brady Corbet

“We might complain today about pop culture governed by algorithms and data, but it’s not as though 20th-century decisions about which movies hit Blockbuster or which songs dominated the radio were based on some high-minded meritocracy; we have always been at the mercy of boardrooms.” – T.M. Brown

“Cinema is not just about telling stories…It’s about light. It’s about space. It’s about tone. It’s about color. It’s about people having experiences in front of you, where, if it’s transparent enough, they can experience it with you. You become them. They become you. That’s the communion. That’s the experience.” – Willem Dafoe

“Keep your eye on the donut, not the hole.” – David Lynch (RIP)

2024 felt like it lasted forever, right? And I don’t know if it’s because the political news was increasingly relentless, being force-fed Graham Norton clips has eroded my attention span, or I’m just a new parent and every day feels like living multiple lives at once. (All three, I guess.) It’s always daunting to try and make sense of the entire year in film, but especially now, when I have a hard time making sense of the week.

This is a problem because in the year end blog, I want to say something big, something profound. I want to find a common thread that runs through all the major films and speaks to a distinct challenge or anxiety that we’re facing right now. Instead…when I look back through all the random scribbles I keep in my phone, I see, well, randomness.

There were the endless minor controversies — Coyote vs. Acme being shelved, AI-generated pull quotes in a Coppola trailer, and whatever is happening with Blake Lively. There were Christmas vampire movies, singing Batman villains, and sequel after sequel after sequel. The fading auteurs of the 20th century tried to say something meaningful (or at the very least have sharks fight gladiators), while the new generation got subsumed into the IP nether world. And to top it all off? A little welcome experimentation from indie studios as well as majors.

….How can we make sense of it all? Maybe we don’t. Maybe we just take each film as it is, on its own terms. If the monoculture is truly dead (except for Taylor Swift), if people really are living in their own bubbles, if we no longer share the same anxieties or information — then it makes sense that Hollywood is throwing whatever it’s got at the wall. Maybe it’s better to just take a breath and let this year be what it was: kind of a mess.

BUT here’s the other thing, that mess didn’t stop us from going to the movies. We still braved 25 minutes of trailers, and atrocious formatting to show up. My coworker took off early to see Blink Twice. My parents suffered through The Fall Guy. Reaganites came out for…Reagan. Oh, and one of my best friends released a terrifying film, Last Straw, at festivals and onto Shudder (Check it out!).

So, while I can’t offer you a theme, a theory, or a bird’s eye insight — I can give you the 11 films that broke through the noise and made their presence felt among the chaos.

Okay, let’s go: (Of course the old caveats still apply — I haven’t seen a lot (Nosferatu, Hard Truths, Sing Sing, La Cocina), and I can’t claim to be unbiased (What can I say? I love courtroom dramas).

11) Dune 2: Like anyone who’s ever tried to review movies (or buy blueberries out of season) I make mistakes. Earlier this year, I gave Dune 2 a middling review on my personal LetterBoxd. To be clear, I stand by my critique. The films remains way too sexless, especially given the attention devoted to every other aspect of the Dune-iverse. Villeneuve’s reluctance to engage with a key piece of his character’s biology keeps the film from becoming an all-timer. That being said, it’s still really good. And when I went back over my filmgoing from the year, Dune 2 remained vivid in my mind. So, here you go. It gets a spot.

10) Conclave: The era of peak papal content continues. Great movies live and breathe process. And Conclave has process in spades. Sequestering the phones, boarding the buses, removing the holy body, and of course, the votes — every single action in the Vatican has a strictly imposed order, and it’s so, so satisfying to see all those processes executed. The stiff regimen also has the dual benefit of heightening the tension. The juxtaposition of man-made chaos against stately ritual. An ancient ten part process to clean the knife, before you stab a fellow clergyman in the back.

9) Twisters: Yes, really. Best theatrical experience of the year. And that has to count for something, right? In fact, it should count for a lot. When I’m on my deathbed in 2074 (right before to robots come to upload my brain onto the Millennial Memory Bureau’s digital archive), and all my life is flashing before my eyes, there will be a short sequence of my favorite memories at the movies. And I guarantee, seeing La Chimera at IFC in an empty theater in February won’t be on the list (even though it’s a better film). But seeing Twisters on a crowded Saturday night in July, it could make the cut. Laughing and groaning with a bunch of strangers. Eating enough popcorn to rot my gut. Getting annoyed at the foursome two rows down who keep texting. Then, walking out of the theater into that thick humidity, unconcerned, at least for a moment, with rent or career growth.

8) Trap: Completely lives up to its brilliant premise. The first hour especially is so taut and weird. Hartnett’s face is doing all these incredible micro-gestures — eye flutters, darting pupils, eyebrows that crest and quiver. Look I get it, at this stage in his career, Shamalyan is an acquired taste. You either love the unapologetic plottiness, and the unexplained hamminess , or you recoil when his name hits the screen. But as someone who saw The Happening in theaters….twice, I guess I’m in the former.

7) A Different Man: There’s a scene where Edward mournfully stares out the window as an Ice Cream truck tries to pass around the ambulance where his dead neighbor is being carried away. Just writing that sentence and reading it back has me doubling over. The whole film feels like it’s bursting with ideas and techniques and random side characters. Fingers crossed Aaron Schimberg can fill the masssive hole left when Charlie Kaufman went full puppet.

6) Juror #2: The just action vs. the lawful action. From Unforgiven to Million Dollar Baby, it’s been an unlimited source of inspiration for Clint Eastwood’s career. And Juror #2 might be his most blunt. While every other geriatric filmmaker makes a point to blow as much money as they can on their way out the door (Ridley Scott/$250 million for Gladiator 2, Scorsese/$200 million for Killers of the Flower Moon), Eastwood has always been happier to work in a more elemental way. His camera never calls attention to itself. His characters never reach for the upper register. He’s probing deep philosophical questions about humanity without a trace of self-importance. So, when the final shot of the film arrives, you’re torn. Is the prosecutor there to bring Kemp in, or send him on his way. What does he deserve? What do we want to see happen? Eastwood cuts to black before we know. It’s a brave act for an artist on possibly their last film — admitting you don’t know the answer, even after a life spent searching.

5) La Chimera: What happens to the globe-trotting archeologist archetype when they get trapped in a tiny town? The sequence where O’Connor and his gang break into the sealed tomb has to be one of the year’s best. The crowbar echoing on stone, lamp light flickering, transluscent lime pools — suddenly you understand the spell that grave robbing has over O’Connor, and you’re overwhelmed by the weight of it all — culminating in that image of the dirty hands illuminated against the marble statue head.

4) Challengers/ Queer: Guadagnino has been a regular on this list for the last decade. A Bigger Splash is maybe my favorite, Suspiria was underrated, and Call Me By Your Name is a bona fide classic at this point. But the one two punch of Challengers and Queer make it plain that Guadagnino is the most interesting “mainstream” filmmaker working. While other directors are actively avoiding desire (see Dune 2), he’s jumping right in. While other filmmakers are using their notoriety to jump into GDP-budget IP, he’s still working with original screenplays. While other filmmakers are sticking close to their genres, he’s all over the map. To be honest, I didn’t love Queer. But I loved that he made it. Challengers on the other hand, more than lived up to its tease. Ball cam! That score! Parking lots shot like the old west!

3) A Real Pain: How much can we ever really know about someone else’s trauma? And how much do we use it as balm to soothe our own privilege? We might visit the concentration camps to bear witness, to understand, to commune — but also, perhaps to breathe a sigh of relief, telling ourselves that at least it’s not this bad anymore. The same goes for the less fortunate friends and family in our lives, right? For all the frustration and guilt we have around their circumstance, we also take some comfort in their suffering. It gives us a low bar to measure our own happiness against. That’s just one of the complications glimmering beneath the surface of A Real Pain. A deceptively understated film with so much more on its mind. Yeah, it’s got great performances, and a sharp screenplay. Not to mention, in the theater I could feel the emotional wiring binding the audience up. But the film lingers because it’s a cavernous pool. You can hit the surface and paddle out, or swim down deep, searching for the bottom.

2) Anora: Great filmmakers usually keep a high-end cinematic reference in their hip pocket, ready to sling the minute Variety calls for a roundtable. With Anora, Sean Baker frequently cited the Fellini film, Nights of Cabiria. And you have to believe that was his North Star. But, the reason this film works so well, is because he’s not afraid to blend that intellectual artistic sensibility with something more mainstream. The goons here are straight out of Home Alone. Ivan’s energy is a straight line back to Tom Hanks in Big. And even if it’s superficial, the similarities to Pretty Woman can’t be ignored. The result of all this high/low co-mingling is a film that retains an elliptical beauty while also playing to the couple who showed up just to swipe and eat Snowcaps. Energy. Detail. And a closing scene that twists you through the gut.

1) The Brutalist: Aside from being endlessly gorgeous, it’s the complexity and allergy to easy classification that kept The Brutalist zinging around my head. For all it’s outward bombast, the film actually lives somewhere between monumental and modest. It’s full of gaping shots and mountains of marble but they’re juxtaposed against the brittlest human frailties — unexpected news at a cramped dinner table, the line for a soup kitchen. And while it exalts the “great artist” it also makes painfully plain how dependent they are on others, desperate for recognition. It’s no coincidence that the very thing that gets Lazlo Toth the initial attention and begrudging respect of his patron (refusing to accept credit and explain his work) is completely reversed by the end (Toth accepting a lifetime achievement award, explaining the meaning behind his proudest accomplishment).
This frustrating duality throughout the film is, as they say, a feature, not a bug. It’s the element that separates the great from the very good. Holding up both sides as somewhat true. The persecuted are also the preeminent. Your patron is an essential enabler and horrifying possessive. Trauma is both baggage and inspiration. The world The Brutalist builds isn’t one of clean lines and simple logic. It’s packed with contradiction, impotence, and ecstasy — in other words, our own.

Superlatives (and such):

We’re getting married!*….*in partnership with the tourism board of _____: The last few years have seen a string of big studio comedies that double as destination wedding promos. In 2018, it started with Crazy Rich Asians and Singapore. In 2022, it was Ticket to Paradise and Bali. 2024, we got Anyone But You and Australia. Drone shots of recognizable landmarks? Check (Sydney Opera House). “Fun” scene with the national animal? Check (Koala). The only thing missing was a scene where a host helps the newcomer make a traditional cuisine and bond. (They could’ve made a bloomin’ onion!). And don’t expect the trend to stop. If the studio can split some production cost, and maybe inspire a Midwesterner to try seaweed farming? Why not.

Streaming’s Slop Era: The streamers (and let’s be honest, mostly Netflix) have always been dumping ground for some of the driveliest drivel. But 2024 represented a new era in unbridled streaming slop-itude. It started with Jerry Seinfeld’s Pop Tarts movie (Unfrosted, Netflix) and ended with The Rock’s Santa action movie (Red One, Amazon). In between, there was everything from heist slop (Lift) to space slop (Rebel Moon). Making a bad movie, okay, fine. But spending this much money, wasting this much talent, unforgivable.

Best Scene of the Year: Is Denzel the best actor of our era? Debatable. But one things is certain, he has the single best moment of any actor in 2024. Arriving before the senators of Rome, he unveils the severed head of their murdered emperor. Then, as he threatens and consolidates his power, he slowly turns the head around on a marble pillar to face each senator. It’s horrifying and hilarious. The kind of move only a master can pull off.

Surprise Secret Six Pack Reveal of The Year: Ralph Fiennes in The Return. Yep, the English Patient is jacked now.

Most Unsettling Surprise Six Pack Reveal of the Year: JK Simmons as Santa in Red One. Why is everyone jacked now??

Questionable parenting choice of the year: The couple behind me who brought their six and eight year old to a matinee screening of Challengers. Why aren’t those children in school? And why, instead of school, are they attending an R-Rated erotic tennis drama? And most of all, how am I supposed to feel knowing Bluey-aged kids are sitting behind me as Zendaya, Connor, and Feist are making out? Some films should be off limits to the dino-nugget set.

Production Company of the Year: Fruit Tree. The Hollywood hills are littered with the production companies of famous actors. Some exist to protect the star and enable them to do better work. Some exist to protect the star’s profits and enable them to buy bigger homes. But the rare few seem to spring from a genuine passion for putting good stuff out into the world (Brad Pitt’s Plan B being the shining example. Apocalypse in the Tropics coming 2025!). Enter, Emma Stone and Dave McCary (her husband she met on SNL), and their banner: Fruit Tree. Between A Real Pain, I Saw The TV Glow, and Problemista – they’ve cracked the code for indie breakout films that theaters are sorely missing. Colin Jost and Scarlett Johansson, your move.

Hollywood: The New Class: One bright spot on the filmic horizon is the crop of young American actors beating back the tide of generic Brits swarming our backlots. Dune 2 showcased a new crop of opening weekend juggernauts (Timothee Chalamet, Austin Butler, Zendaya), while Saturday Night was stacked with the character set (Rachel Sennot, Gabirelle LaBelle, Cooper Hoffman). The future is bright…or at the very least, not straining to sound “midwestern”.

Nepo Dad of the year: M. Night Shaymalan. To be fair, there was heated competition for this award from a certain Star Wars director. But the crown for Nepo Dad of the year has to go to M. Night. Not only did he write a film set at his daughter Saleka’s concert AND end it with her being the hero, he’s also been coaching up his other daughter, Ishana, to be a director. Her first feature (The Watchers) came out to mediocre reviews in the spring. Some Dads get their kids a summer job doing filing in their office, others get their kids a three picture deal with a mid-major studio.

The New Nicolas Cage: Nicole Kidman. (All credit to my barber for pointing this one out.) The infamous AMC ad was only the beginning. It’s not just that she’s become a near constant meme like Nic Cage, but she’s also working with the same an-accountant-stole-all-my-money energy. Babygirl, Perfect Couple, Lioness, A Family Affair (that’s just 2024!). Look, she’s unquestionably an incredible actor. But at what point do you go from someone who loves the craft, to some who will say yes to anything shooting in Nantucket?

I’m Stealing That Award: The phrase “authorial glee” from David Lowry. He was describing why he loved Nosferatu to Variety. Love when two words can perfectly articulate why something works. Get ready to see it all over these posts from now on.

Well, that about wraps it up. Thanks as always for reading. Fingers crossed that in 2025, rents start to fall, Elon Musk gets trapped outside our atmosphere, and The Running Man lives up to its potential.

Later,
Will