*Chicken for Linda, dir. Chiara Malta, Sébastien Laudenbach*

Opening this blog with a mote of negativity: 2024 was a rough year in many ways. The film industry has been recovering and restructuring after the strikes of 2023 and the realization that the streaming model isn’t sustainable, resulting in countless layoffs and cancellations that have left no corner of this industry unphased. Close friends have struggled—to be frank, I’ve struggled (you think starting a blog was Plan A?)—but hey, at least the films were good! Art flourishes amidst chaos, after all, and the world has given plenty of reason for filmmakers to make films. From an industry in turmoil to a burning planet to an election we don’t need to talk about here, the arts feel more important than ever as storytellers answer the calls of the people, using their skills to wake us up or to make us feel heard. For me, at least, film offers some kind of hope that humanity still lies at the center of us all, and that perhaps these stories can help reawaken it in those who have lost it (assuming they aren’t among the irredeemable few).

What importance does a ranking of my favorite films of 2024 have amidst such tumultuous times? I won’t lie to you: very little! Truthfully, this is just fun for me. However, if I can try to instill some degree of importance to this, let me say that these are the films I felt my humanity was most awakened by this year. Of course, not every film will resonate with you in the same way, but if I can point you in the direction of a film that might, then I think that, at least, serves some sort of purpose that I can be happy with. So, in a time of such insanity, here are your (potential) reminders of the joy, love, empathy, sorrow, and so on; that lies inside of you.

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Not every film that makes you feel something special can make the list, and sometimes there are other factors weighing them down that keep them from even cracking a traditional “runners-up” section. So, these are not my runners-up. Some were close to making the list, but others weren’t. So why are they here? Because these are all films that had something interesting enough going on for them that when I sat down and thought about all the films I wish I could talk about, these are the ones that haunted the back of my mind. So, here’s a blurb about each. And, for the record, I would recommend all of these…

THE LIST

I’ll keep this brief (you know what this section is for), but I wanted to make note of a small logistical detail: I can’t watch every film that releases every year! There are many films I wish I could have seen by now (No Other Land, The Seed of the Sacred Fig) or made the time for (The Beast, The People’s Joker), but this is not a perfect world, and I do not have infinite resources. That said, the following is comprised of my favorite films from the 77 releases that I’ve seen from 2024. No more stalling. Here we go…

#10: NOSFERATU, dir. Robert Eggers

My immediate response after the lights rose on Nosferatu was to turn to my friends, both of whom had already seen it, and say, “You guys are crazy I’m gonna need like a year before I watch that again.” Does that hold true? In some twisted way, no. I find my experience with this film to be mirroring that of its protagonist. The darkness of the whole thing has left this lingering seductive quality, beckoning me to experience the horrors once more even though I know full well how terrible they made me feel. Robert Eggers lulls you into this daze where you long for the claustrophobic edges of his gothic horror, both captivated by and afraid of what it makes you feel. That’s quite a feat, much like the way he subtly shifts the framing of the traditional vampire tale away from its origins of reflecting the dark mysterious desires we hold inside us, and towards a focus on how those desires are taken advantage of by predators. It’s less about giving into seduction and more about being trapped by the seducer, and the only way to end the cycle is tragedy. A powerful reflection on a very real fate shared by many women in our contemporary society… one that, perhaps, could be avoidable if we opened our ears and listened.

#9: CHALLENGERS, dir. Luca Guadagnino

I’ll always champion a good juicy drama, and what Luca Guadagnino’s Challengers does best is amping up the tense back-and-forth we often face in our human relationships. I’ve never been one for sports movies, but this film isn’t about tennis on a literal level. Tennis is a conduit for relationship dynamics, and it’s an electrifying way to portray the intimate interplay between our three protagonists. What makes it especially powerful and unique is that it doesn’t forget that a love triangle has three sides. Not all roads point towards Zendaya’s Tashi Duncan, Guadagnino channeling his queer gaze to create an equally compelling relationship between Mike Faist and Josh O’Connor’s characters. This, I feel, is where other filmmakers may have faltered in attempting to tell this same story. Thankfully, we got the star pairing of Guadagnino, cinematographer Sayombhu Mukdeeprom, and the potion-seller-turned-screenwriter Justin Kuritzkes (not to mention Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross’s score!), to deliver the best end-result we possibly could’ve gotten from this premise.

#8: QUEER, dir. Luca Guadagnino

Speak of the devil, that same quintet of talent from Challengers had a busy 2024, releasing two of the year’s best films. The best part? They’re both very much their own unique thing. Queer, unlike Challengers, has proved challenging (pun not intended) for some. It’s a mysterious film with very deliberate pacing, telling a story that is bound to confound some just as much as it has dazzled others. Obviously, I find myself in the latter camp. What makes Queer so fascinating and resonant to me is how it plays with this surreal mixture of farce and hyperreality. For instance, there are numerous shots composed entirely of miniature dioramas, which plainly stick-out amidst the film’s more naturalistic scenes and textured cinematography. They mirror, in many ways, the persona of our protagonist: Daniel Craig plays a man built upon layers and layers of farce that thinly veil something much more real. Much more sad. That sadness simmers beneath the surface of the entire film before rearing its head in bold ways, Guadagnino reigniting cinematic surrealism as a means of articulating queer dissociation. The farce is, perhaps, prettier to look at than the reality. It makes more sense. It’s more palatable. But the cracks are there, and suddenly everything spills out like the mess it is. These thoughts are a bit messy, I’ll admit, but this is a film whose images have burrowed deep within my head, and I find myself compelled to wonder why. More to write some other time, perhaps.

#7: FLOW, dir. Gints Zilbalodis

Flow was one of the year’s bigger surprises for me. Don’t get me wrong, I expected to like the film—but reaching this high on my list is no small feat. Following the journey of a black cat in what I can only assume is a post-climate-apocalypse, director Gints Zilbalodis portrays a world in which vast swaths of land are being engulfed in a great flood, and our feline protagonist must band together with other land-bound animals on a small boat sailing through this ever-expanding sea. Featuring no spoken dialogue, the language of the film is that of animation and of animals, the film capturing incredible detail in how its characters move about this sinking Earth. This allows us to tap into the natural rhythms of this world while forcing us to see the deep life within our own. If the world of these animals can be so full and emotional, one must ponder the lives of the animals outside the cinema screen. This gives the film a great deal of power as it moves into its final act, where I felt it became much more than initial expectations would lead you to believe. I don’t want to spoil it, but there’s a certain kind of poetry in how it all unfolds, begging the question of what is literal and what is symbolic while channeling some grand metaphor about the fate we could be dooming this planet to. Select creatures may rise above it, while others may find adapting too challenging to overcome. But one statement is very clear: no matter who survives in this hypothetical future, humans aren’t a part of it. Not anymore.

#6: BETTER MAN, dir. Michael Gracey

I’d like to preface this placement by saying that I had not (knowingly) listened to a single song by Robbie Williams before seeing this film’s trailers, and I did not listen to a single one outside of the trailers before watching the film. I am (was) not a Robbie Williams fan. I did not go into this caring about him whatsoever. And on the filmmaking team, I didn’t even care for director Michael Gracey’s last film, The Greatest Showman. So how on Earth did the $110 million Robbie Williams CGI monkey biopic musical end up this high on my list? Because god damn do I love a good, rousing musical, and this delivered well beyond my wildest expectations. It’s not even that I like bopics—they’re fine, usually. I watched it because I wanted a good musical, and the numbers in this thing are astounding. Gracey’s work is breathtaking, and, would you look at that, the music turned out to be pretty great, too. Couple this with a script that isn’t afraid to go places most authorized musical biopics wouldn’t dare and you’ve got a genuinely quite emotional story. The lows are low, and I have to pay Williams some respect for not being afraid to own up to being an asshole at times and being unafraid to paint an often unflattering picture of himself. If the goal here was to get to some deeper truth about the very specific life a man like Williams has lived, I felt Better Man was much more successful than most biopics; following the formula, yes, but using it to its absolute fullest potential. It’s just a damn good time. The audience clapped after the credits rolled. It got tears out of me (and the friend I saw it with, who also had no idea who Williams was). Sorry Wicked, this was the best musical of 2024.

#5: A REAL PAIN, dir. Jesse Eisenberg

Another one of 2024’s quiet little surprises, I found myself delighted by how effectively A Real Pain delivered on the promise of being a back-to-basics, screenplay-driven kind of movie. Even better? I loved Jesse Eisenberg’s direction, too, which brings the script to life wonderfully. It’s not like this is a revolutionary, groundbreaking film, but it is an expertly-crafted example of a lot of cinematic principles that I love. There’s an infectious rhythm to how it progresses, capturing some of my favorite aspects of mumblecore and meshing them with filmmaking that feels very clear and distinct in its vision. There’s this delicate balance of rambling, humorous dialogue and quiet moments where we just look at architecture and people. I found myself deeply affected by that balance, and the element of truth it held. It makes for a film that captures the highs and lows—whether that’s the high and lows of its lead duo going on a Holocaust tour, or the highs and lows of your own life. Throughout it all, you gain a sort of bewildered understanding of how little you understand anything and how maybe that’s okay and maybe you just have to take it in and do your best and treasure what’s left and honor what’s gone. And at the end of all of that, I was left feeling pretty touched. It’s hard to put my finger on exactly why, but I think it has to do with what I described. There’s a humanity to how A Real Pain is filmed, bringing life to some of the best-written characters of the year. As they grapple with the weight of this tour they’re on, we grapple with the weight of their humanity. It’s quite special to watch unfold.

#4: SING SING, dir. Greg Kwedar

Following a group of prisoners at Sing Sing Correctional Facility participating in the Rehabilitation Through the Arts program, Sing Sing serves almost like a document of the importance of programs like these in prisons. A large portion of the cast is made up of former inmates playing themselves, reliving moments from their life in prison that ultimately led them to the lives they’re leading today. At the center of this is Clarence “Divine Eye” Maclin, who plays himself, telling the story of how he went from becoming a reluctant new member of the RTA program to being saved by it. That he stands outside of Sing Sing today and had the opportunity to tell his story on screen… that’s perfectly emblematic of the miracle that is this film. Watching him perform opposite Colman Domingo—whose John “Divine G” Whitfield goes through the highs and lows alongside Maclin—is revelatory. The two are breathtaking together, giving performances that are bound to go down as two of the year’s greatest. That they’re encased within such powerful material, directed with striking depth and texture by Greg Kwedar, is more than enough to make this one to remember. I hope, sincerely, that more people get the chance to watch it soon.

#3: CHICKEN FOR LINDA!, dir. Chiara Malta, Sébastien Laudenbach

It’s always a special moment when you stumble across a film that you had no idea existed, and then it absolutely just blows you away. That happened to me with Chicken for Linda!, a film I had never heard about until the Los Angeles Film Critics Circle named it their runner-up for the best animated film of the year. What was this film that came so close to rivaling Flow for the award, beating out juggernauts like The Wild Robot, Inside Out 2 and Memoir of a Snail? I had to know, and I’m glad I made the time for it because this is really something special. You can tell as much just by looking at it, but the film’s heart runs much deeper than the love poured into its art. In telling the seemingly-simple story of a young girl who wants chicken for dinner after a misunderstanding with her mother, it lulls you into thinking, going into it, that it’ll be limited in its emotional depth. Naturally, that expectation could not be more wrong. This is a richly layered film that peels back layers of grief and trauma in unexpected and powerful ways, offering storytelling that reminds me of the best of Pixar, where complex emotion is wrought from deceptively-basic plots. It achieves this by striking a wonderful balance between standard storytelling and more abstract moments where the film abandons the laws of reality to create beautiful illustrations of the characters’ inner worlds and the space between them. Music, too, is a big part of this. The film contains what is easily one of my favorite scores of the year, always bringing out a strong sense of fun and emotion. It’s hard, honestly, to stop listing reasons why I love this film so much. The colors, the characters, the way everything moves, the bits where it breaks out into song… whatever you do, if you’re a fan of animation, seek this film out. It’s a joy to watch.

#2: NICKEL BOYS, dir. RaMell Ross

The words to properly talk about Nickel Boys escape me in many ways. It’s a film that has to be felt and experienced in a way that’s impossible for me to truly write about. That’s because Nickel Boys is unlike every other film on this list, and perhaps unlike anything else you’ve ever seen. By telling this story of two young Black teenagers at a reform school in North Florida entirely from a first-person perspective, director RaMell Ross made a film that I recall more like flickers of memory layered deep within my brain than something I watched play out on a screen. The vivid authenticity of the images and soundscapes that Ross crafted alongside cinematographer Jomo Fray allow for this film and its messaging to sink in in ways that film has never quite captured before, placing you in the shoes of its dual protagonists in very literal, fiercely resonant ways. A marvel of what film can accomplish. A marvel of what the art of adaptation can accomplish. Unforgettable, truly. This is humanity on screen.

#1: I SAW THE TV GLOW, dir. Jane Schoenbrun

That I Saw the TV Glow has topped Nickel Boys as my number one pick is a testament to the unique authenticity it, too, captures in ways never seen before. Perhaps it can also be attributed to my own ability to relate so strongly with the subject matter, but so be it—the fact that it could give voice to emotions I’ve always struggled to clearly articulate is proof enough that this film deserves to be celebrated for its merits. To elaborate: this film unraveled me. I’ve been an out trans woman for eight years—that’s no discovery—but on the long walk home back from the theater after first seeing this, the film sank in, and I could suddenly piece together the exact mental state I lived through while I was in middle school. I don’t think I’d ever quite understood that time of my life. How deeply lost I was. I had escaped inside myself, and was unable to find my way out. Or rather, I knew the way out, but it wasn’t an easy one. It’s a feeling I can surmise Jane Schoebrun once felt too, except they were able to put it on screen in ways previously unfathomable to me, and in ways that appropriately capture the horror of the whole situation. The confusion. The sinking within oneself. The silencing nature of it all. That Justice Smith could capture all of this with such painful authenticity… just writing about it makes me want to mourn those years where I was lost. That said, the nice thing about I Saw the TV Glow is that it also makes me want to celebrate. Why? Because, thank god, I got out. And this film has helped so many people do the same. How’s that for full-circle—the film is literally reawakening people’s humanity, one trans person at a time.

And that’s the list! May these films bring you joy, hope and understanding through the tough times that may lie ahead, and may we forever treasure the fact that something as special as cinema exists in our lives, reminding us what makes life worth living. Let’s make the most of 2025, folks. At least we’ve got art to get us through it, and surely another great year of film awaits us. See you next January!

The Best of 2024: 18 Films That Made Me Feel Human

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THE LIST

Contact Me So we can create together.

The Best of 2024: 18 Films That Made Me Feel Human

SPECIAL MENTIONS

THE LIST

Writing About Film in Troubling Times

Contact Me So we can create together.