(This article is part of our Best of 2024 series.)
Every year brings its own unique flavor to the world of cinema, and 2024 was no exception. This year, more than any in recent memory, felt overstuffed with quality. Most blockbusters were DOA but there were a lot of gems — from the big budget to the extremely independent — sprinkled throughout the year. It was also a strong contender for the greatest year in horror in at least the decade. It was the gift that kept on giving and I hope this year is at least half as great.
These are my five favorite films of 2024 (plus 65 honorable mentions).
10. Sing Sing
There is something undeniably powerful about a film that strips away the artifice of Hollywood and finds truth in lived experience. Sing Sing is such a film. An intimate, deeply human story that reminds us of cinema’s ability to reveal the dignity within forgotten lives. The film follows the real-life Rehabilitation Through the Arts program at Sing Sing Correctional Facility, where inmates come together to stage theatrical productions. But this is not a prison-break thriller or a sentimentalized redemption tale. Instead, it is a film about men who, despite the brutal reality of incarceration, discover meaning, community, and freedom within the walls that confine them.
What makes this film special is the supporting cast, many of whom are formerly incarcerated men playing versions of themselves. There is an authenticity to their performances that no amount of traditional acting training could replicate. The film does not ask us to pity them, nor does it excuse their pasts—it simply allows them to exist as complex, feeling human beings. As good as Colman Domingo is in the lead, he never upstages them but instead, feels just as real as they do. If you told me he was a former inmate, I’d believe you. Just like I’d believe you if you said Clarence “Divine Eye” Maclin was a professional actor.
The fact that Maclin wasn’t nominated for his performance is proof positive that the Academy cares more about stuffing their award show with stars to boost ratings than they do about rewarding actual artists. He gives a magnificent and soulful performance that will blow you away with its authenticity. Sing Sing is not just a film about prison, it is a film about the resilience of the human spirit. It reminds us that the people we so often write off as statistics or cautionary tales are, in fact, capable of profound beauty and transformation.
9. Nosferatu
In the annals of horror cinema, few figures loom as large as Count Orlok, the cadaverous vampire of F.W. Murnau’s 1922 silent classic, Nosferatu. To revisit such a seminal work is a daring endeavor, yet director Robert Eggers, known for his meticulous period pieces like The Witch and The Lighthouse, approaches this task with both reverence and innovation. His reimagining of Nosferatu is a hauntingly atmospheric film that pays homage to its predecessor while carving out its own distinct identity. Since the original is an unofficial adaptation of Dracula, Nosferatu is a film you’ve already seen before you bought the ticket. Knowing this, Eggers decided to lean into the familiar instead of going the Coppola route.
Since it’s literally almost a beat for beat retelling, the minor differences are what makes it his. The biggest deviation over the original is the connection between Orlock (Bill Skarsgård) and Ellen (Lily-Rose Depp). This isn’t a love story, Orlock is a cautionary tale of the dangers of overwhelming lust. Ellen can’t break free from the hold Orlock has for her, which makes her eventual fate that much more tragic. The character has always been a victim but Eggers gives her more agency. She’s not a helpless maiden bewitched by a monster but a woman fighting for her and her husband’s life. This is a vampire tale where the heart is more powerful than a stake.
Her performance is incredible but like the character, I was transfixed by Skarsgård. Before seeing this, I assumed he would look identical to the original and would do creepy things with his eyes and I’ve never been more happy to be proven wrong. Orlock is grotesque, repulsive, and utterly compelling. A creature driven by insatiable hunger. His performance is a testament to the power of physical acting, conveying menace through every movement and gaze. Nosferatu is a refreshing return to form, a film that understands that true terror lies not in what is seen, but in what is suggested. It is a masterclass in atmosphere and tone, a reminder of cinema’s power to evoke emotion through image and sound.
8. Look Back
Based on Tatsuki Fujimoto’s one-shot manga, Look Back is a film that sneaks up on you—starting as a simple childhood recollection before evolving into something deeply profound, achingly tragic, and quietly beautiful. It’s a meditation on talent, friendship, and the weight of regret, told with the kind of emotional precision that makes animation such a powerful medium. The story follows Fujino, a confident young girl who takes pride in her talent for drawing manga, until she’s introduced to Kyomoto, a reclusive classmate whose artistry far surpasses hers. What begins as rivalry slowly transforms into admiration, then friendship. But just as life starts to weave their fates together, tragedy strikes, and Look Back shifts into a devastating study of loss and “what ifs.” Like the best of Studio Ghibli, Look Back is a testament to animation’s ability to tell deeply human stories that use magical realism to explore deeper wells of emotion. As much as I adore Riley’s emotions and Wallace and Gromit, neither one of those films has the emotional complexity of this and it’s only an hour long. It felt like a gut punch for my heart that I still feel every time I think about it.
7. Hundreds of Beavers
A million years ago, Trey Parker and Matt Stone taught a class on storytelling at some college and their biggest piece of advice was their but & therefore rule. Put simply, when you have a set of story beats and you can put the words “and then” in-between each one, you don’t have a story but a series of events. However, if in-between each story beat you can put the words “but” or “therefore” then you have a story in which the events taking place are reacting to each other. The story/plot builds momentum and tension based on everything else that has happened previously. No other movie released last year better exemplifies the but & therefore rule better than Hundreds of Beavers.
Set in the 19th century, the narrative follows a drunken applejack salesman who embarks on a quest to become North America’s greatest fur trapper, aiming to win the heart of a merchant’s daughter. The plot, while simple, serves as a canvas for a series of inventive and often hilarious set pieces that showcase the filmmakers’ flair for physical comedy. Like the best of Chuck Jones, the film is nothing but a series of set ups and payoffs. Literally every 90 seconds, there’s a new joke that builds to another joke that builds to another joke and so on. You would think that 90 minutes of a man getting beat by men in beaver costumes would wear out it’s welcome fast but director Mike Cheslik knows how to keep the joke going without it ever going stale.
The film’s commitment to the aesthetics of early cinema is evident in every frame. Shot in crisp black-and-white, it employs exaggerated physical performances, intertitles, and practical effects reminiscent of Buster Keaton and Charlie Chaplin. Yet, it never feels derivative; instead, it revitalizes these classic techniques for a modern audience. The film’s production, completed on a modest budget of $150,000, is a marvel of resourcefulness. I don’t know what’s more impressive, the fact that it’s as good as it is or that it even exists in the first place.
6. Dune: Part Two
Dune II is nothing short of breathtaking. It is a cinematic odyssey that delves deeper into the intricate tapestry of Frank Herbert’s universe, delivering a visual and auditory spectacle that is both mesmerizing and, at times, emotionally resonant. It has all the cinematic grandeur of the first but with a far more compelling story. Picking up where the first installment left off, we follow Paul Atreides (Timothée Chalamet) as he navigates the treacherous sands of Arrakis, seeking refuge among the Fremen and embracing his destiny as a messianic figure. Chalamet’s portrayal captures the internal conflict of a young man burdened by prophecy, delivering a performance that is both compelling and nuanced.
Zendaya’s Chani steps into a more prominent role, serving as both guide and confidante to Paul. Their chemistry is palpable, adding a layer of human connection amidst the film’s grandiose narrative. The supporting cast, including Rebecca Ferguson as Lady Jessica and Javier Bardem as Stilgar, provide depth to the story, grounding the epic in personal stakes. But it’s Austin Butler who ends up stealing the film. Elvis proved he is more than a Disney kid but this proves he can do anything. Every time he is on screen, the film cackles with electricity. It’s a far cry from Sting and his weird speedo. In an era dominated by franchises and sequels, Dune II distinguishes itself as a work of art that challenges and rewards its audience. It is a film that demands to be seen on the largest screen possible, a reminder of the immersive potential of the cinematic experience. Villeneuve is at the top of his game and no one is even close.
5. Challengers
Challengers isn’t just a sports film, nor is it merely a love story wrapped in the world of professional tennis. It’s a simmering, sweat-drenched exploration of ambition, control, and the razor-thin line between love and competition. In its best moments, the film feels like a high-stakes match where emotions, rather than rackets, are the weapons of choice. When the two genres are as strong as a sports movie and a romance, it doesn’t take a master alchemist to smash them together to create gold. There are a million examples of films that have married the two but few do it as well as Challengers. And that’s because none of those other films were directed by Luca Guadagnino nor do they have a cast as hungry as the three leads in this.
Zendaya, stepping into a role that demands both steely determination and raw vulnerability, plays Tashi Duncan, a former tennis prodigy whose career-ending injury forces her to reshape her ambitions. She doesn’t retreat from the game—she evolves within it, molding her husband, Art (Mike Faist), into a champion while maintaining an unresolved, electric connection with his longtime rival, Patrick (Josh O’Connor).
Guadagnino, ever the sensualist, frames this dynamic as something closer to warfare than romance, where desire and strategy are interchangeable. The structure of the film unfolds like a rally, alternating between past and present, revealing layers of history between these three characters. The screenplay by Justin Kuritzkes doesn’t waste time on exposition. Instead, it trusts the audience to pick up on the undercurrents of power, resentment, and longing. The fact that this is his first screenplay is insane, as is the fact that it works as well as it does. In a lesser filmmaker’s hands, Challengers could have been a simple love triangle set against the backdrop of tennis. Instead, it’s something richer, more complex, and infinitely more engrossing.
4. Rebel Ridge
I am beyond delighted to see Saulnier back in the director’s chair. I’ve dug every one of his films with Green Room being a particular favorite. Not only is it one of the best films of the last decade, it might be one of the best films ever made. There are few examples of single location horror done better. It’s unbearably tense and unflinchingly brutal, the perfect cinematic peanut butter cup. He has built a career on violence that feels raw, immediate, and deeply personal. Violence isn’t spectacle, it is a consequence. With Rebel Ridge, Saulnier once again crafts a world where justice is murky, survival is brutal, and every wound—physical or emotional—leaves a scar. At the center of Rebel Ridge is a man wronged—played with simmering intensity by Aaron Pierre—who wages war against a corrupt system. The setup is familiar: an ex-Marine, a conspiracy that runs deep, and a desperate fight for survival.
But Saulnier, never content with convention, infuses the narrative with unpredictable bursts of violence and quiet moments of dread. There are no clean action beats here—just the messy, chaotic reality of people caught in a web of cruelty. For some, this didn’t land as hard due to it not exploring the corruption at its center but since I’ve seen enough movies about asshole cops fucking with black men for no reason, I was content with what it chose to focus on instead. Which is action without death. Rebel Ridge is essentially an updated take on First Blood with the main character being pushed to fight back and like Rambo, doesn’t want to kill. Watching him effortlessly take down his assailants with speed and restraint, was refreshing. Honestly, the worst thing about this film is the fact that it drove home how badly film needs voices like Saulnier. Hopefully there are no more hiatuses in his future.
3. The Substance
The Substance is a grotesque, thrilling, and deeply unsettling experience that takes the body horror genre and injects it with a potent dose of feminist rage. It’s a film that doesn’t just shock, it provokes, dissecting society’s obsession with youth, beauty, and self-worth with the precision of a scalpel. At its core, The Substance is about control: the control we exert over our bodies, the control others impose upon us, and the terrifying consequences of losing it altogether. Demi Moore, in one of the most fearless performances of her career, plays a fading Hollywood star desperate to reclaim her youth. When she discovers a mysterious new treatment—a serum promising a literal fresh start—she takes it without hesitation. What follows is a descent into something far more horrific than she could have imagined.
Fargeat, whose Revenge redefined the rape-revenge subgenre with raw brutality, isn’t interested in subtlety. Her vision is bold, unrelenting, and soaked in blood. But beneath the film’s grotesque transformations lies something even more disturbing: a scathing commentary on an industry (and a world) that discards women the moment they begin to show signs of aging. The Substance makes this metaphor horrifyingly literal, turning self-improvement into a battle for survival. The film is as stunning as it is repulsive. Fargeat blends neon-drenched beauty with gut-churning body horror, making every frame feel like a grotesque high-fashion nightmare. While I wish the third act resolved its themes instead of turning into a blood bath, I have to respect the go for broke, Grand Guignol levels of spectacle on display.
2. Love Lies Bleeding
The only time directors ever had an easily identifiable look, was back when sound was over the horizon. Every director for the last 50 years all look like normal people, so the saying “never judge a book by its cover”, doesn’t really apply to them. Instead, we should start saying “never assume what a director can do by their debut.” No one could’ve predicted Peter Jackson would be able to perfectly adapt Tolkien’s novels after Bad Taste nor would anyone guess that the Wachowski’s were huge comic book and sci-fi nerds after Bound. A director’s first film only gives us a glimpse into their influences, it rarely offers a complete look into what they’re fascinated by but the better the film and the more clear their voice, the easier it is to assume that’s the kind of stories they want to tell. You would be forgiven for putting Rose Glass in the A24 slow build horror box after Saint Maud.
Because it was such a confident debut with laser specific themes, it would stand to reason that Glass would want to explore those types of stories throughout her career but like the aforementioned Wachowski’s, she has other plans. She is clearly into Bound and the early work of the Coens and wanted to throw her hat into the neo noir subgenre and in doing so, she made the best one in decades. Love Lies Bleeding follows Lou (Kristen Stewart), a reserved gym manager with a haunted past, who falls hard for Jackie (Katy O’Brian), a drifter and aspiring bodybuilder. Their romance is electric, desperate, and immediate, but like all films of its ilk, doomed from the start. The film moves like a heatwave—slow at first, shimmering with tension, before erupting into something wild and unpredictable. Noir is more than hardened gumshoes, femme fatales and rain slick streets, the best ones feel like getting stuck in quicksand, slowly being consumed by the decisions the main character made. Usually because of a woman. Love Lies Bleeding is that feeling but at 90 mph.
1. Mars Express
My number 1 of any given year is either one that entertained me the most or the one I couldn’t stop thinking about. Mars Express hasn’t left my brain since I saw it and I’ve recommended it to everyone I know on multiple occasions. Set on a colonized Mars where corporations wield power and cybernetic enhancements blur the line between man and machine, Mars Express follows Aline Ruby, a hardened private investigator, and Carlos Rivera, her deceased partner—who, thanks to technology, lives on as an AI reconstruction. Their case seems simple at first: track down a missing student with ties to the illegal AI underground. But as in all great noir tales, the deeper they dig, the more they uncover, and soon they’re unraveling a conspiracy that threatens the very fabric of society.
Cherry picking the best elements of Blade Runner and Ghost in the Shell, Jérémie Périn crafted a sleek, cerebral neo-noir that blends cyberpunk aesthetics with classic detective storytelling. It’s a film about artificial intelligence, memory, and what it means to be human, but more than that, it’s a gripping mystery wrapped in an electrifying, visually striking world. Mars Express doesn’t reinvent the cyberpunk wheel, but it sharpens it to a razor’s edge. It delivers action, intrigue, and a philosophical punch, proving that animation can be just as thought-provoking and intense as any live-action thriller. By the time the film reaches its climactic revelations, it leaves you not just entertained, but haunted—lingering in the mind like a dream of a future that feels closer than we’d like to admit. It dug itself deep within my brain but unlike RFK, I didn’t want it to leave.
Part IV
Are you surprised by my ranking?
