Oscar Goff is the Editor in Chief and senior film critic for Boston Hassle. He is a member of the Boston Society of Film Critics, the Boston Online Film Critics’ Association, the Online Film Critics’ Society, and the Blockbuster Video Rewards Club.
If you take the pundits and industry wags at their word, 2024 was, cinematically speaking, a compromise. Thanks to Hollywood’s maddeningly drawn-out response to the actors’ and writers’ strikes of 2023, many of the major releases slated for this year were delayed, if not shelved entirely. As a result, this year’s award and recap cycle feels more destabilized than usual. Unlike last year, when most of the year’s Best Picture nominees were set in stone before Christmas and the eventual winner was released in July, this year feels like anyone’s game. There were the usual superhero epics and animated sequels, but far fewer than usual, and more than one projected heavy-hitter utterly whiffed at the bat. In an era in which Hollywood generally moves in corporate lockstep, this year it’s missed more than a few beats.
All of this is probably not great for movie theaters or the industry as a whole, but it’s just fine by me. As in 2020, the absence of the predictable Hollywood blockbusters has left oxygen for a number of much more interesting films which otherwise might not have received much attention. A number of left-field, mid-budget genre pictures became word-of-mouth hits: Alex Garland’s galaxy-brained speculative thriller Civil War, Oz Perkins’ gonzo serial killer creepfest Longlegs, and even the #1 film on this very list. I personally don’t care much about Damien Leone’s Terrifier films, but the fact that the third, micro-budgeted entry surpassed a much higher-profile killer clown film opening the same weekend at the box office fills me with immense hope. I know it’s probably too much to ask, but might this year finally convince the studios to divert some of their allotted superhero funds toward economical and well-crafted films which might earnestly capture the public’s imagination? Hey, I can dream, right?
Which brings us, of course, to my top ten films of the year. Industry grousing be damned, this has been one of my favorite movie years in ages; any of my runners-up could have easily placed in any other year, and any of my top ten could have well claimed the top spot. Every single one of these films left me invigorated with the possibilities of moviegoing and the thrill of a still-vibrant artform (they are also, I realize scanning back over my list, almost all fundamentally twisted in one way or another; draw whatever conclusions you will about my own psyche, or about the culture at large). Film critics aren’t afforded much in our current, inhospitable culture, but getting to watch and sit with all of these wild, wonderful movies truly is its own reward.
HONORABLE MENTIONS: Anora, The Beast, Do Not Expect Too Much from the End of the World, The End, Flow, Hundreds of Beavers, Humanist Vampire Seeking Consenting Suicidal Person, Longlegs, Off Ramp, The People’s Joker, Problemista
10. FURIOSA: A MAD MAX SAGA (dir. George Miller)
(Currently streaming on MAX)
Perhaps the most perplexing cinematic development of 2024 was the collective public shrug that greeted Furiosa, George Miller’s long-gestating prequel to his 2015 masterpiece Mad Max: Fury Road. It’s their loss. Furiosa may not match the intensity of its predecessor (understandable, given Fury Road’s status as one of the greatest action pictures ever made), but it does broaden it, allowing us to more fully explore Miller’s bonkers, post-apocalyptic world. It also features stellar turns from a stonefaced Anya Taylor-Joy, channeling Buster Keaton as much as Charlize Theron, and from a gloriously demented Chris Hemsworth as a raving biker warlord literally named “Dementus.” It’s the sort of breakneck, endlessly imaginative filmmaking which should define the summer blockbuster season. What a lovely day, indeed.
9. CONCLAVE (dir. Edward Berger)
(Now playing at Coolidge Corner Theatre, Kendall Square Cinema, Capitol Theatre, and West Newton Cinema)
Conclave is a perfect example of what I call a small-g great movie– not a Great Movie in the sense that Citizen Kane or Do the Right Thing are Great Movies, but the kind where, as you’re leaving the theater, you say, “Man, that was pretty great.” The story, based on the airport bestseller by Robert Harris about the politicking around the selection of a new pope, doesn’t necessarily sound like gripping popcorn cinema, yet it has become an unlikely popular hit and an even less likely meme favorite. The secret is that it’s just good, smart fun, racing from one twist to the next and allowing its esteemed cast of thespians (including Ralph Fiennes, Isabella Rossellini, and a never-bitchier Stanley Tucci) room to play to their most grandiose instincts while never losing their grip on the story’s core. Then there’s that final reveal, which both deals with an unexpected hot-button issue and sees Fiennes deliver a complex series of double-takes worthy of a Mel Brooks film. That this scene, and this film, work as well as they do is as miraculous as anything else that’s taken place in the Sistine Chapel.
8. A DIFFERENT MAN (dir. Aaron Schimberg)
(Currently available digitally and on demand)
In many ways, Aaron Schimberg’s A Different Man is a film about performance: Sebastian Stan plays a man who, cured of a condition which had riddled his face with tumors, takes on a new identity, only to end up playing a character based on himself in a play written by his onetime neighbor and crush, all while keeping his true self a secret. It’s fitting, then, that it should contain my favorite performance of the year. Adam Pearson’s Oswald is everything Stan’s Edward wishes he could be– successful, charismatic, talented, well-liked– all while suffering from the same affliction he himself had taken such pains to rid himself of. The film would not work if Pearson did not have neurofibromatosis in real life (we sense, metatextually, that he’s the real deal compared to Stan’s poseur), but it also would not work if he were not such a magnetic and luminous screen presence as an actor; even if he didn’t look the way he does, you wouldn’t be able to take your eyes off him. A Different Man walks a tightrope, remaining fleet and funny while never toppling into cruelty or exploitation– and, if there’s any justice, it will make Pearson into the star he truly is.
7. I SAW THE TV GLOW (dir. Jane Schoenbrun)
(Currently streaming on MAX)
One of the toughest things when assembling a year-end list is trying to get a sense of which films will continue to be watched for years to come, and which will instantly evaporate from the public consciousness the morning after the Oscars are handed out. More than just about any film on this list, I am confident that I Saw the TV Glow will stick around. Jane Schoenbrun’s follow-up to their DIY debut We’re All Going to the World’s Fair (which made my list in 2022) is a dreamy fantasia about two misfit teens who bond over their passionate devotion to a cult ‘90s genre TV show. The film’s eerie atmosphere and heartbreaking portrayal of suburban alienation can be appreciated by audiences of all backgrounds (as someone who also spent the late ‘90s as a dorky teenage VHS trader I could more than relate), but it has proven an instant touchstone among queer and trans viewers, who immediately identified with Schoenbrun’s allegory of gender dysphoria. There have been plenty of great films this year, but I suspect few will save as many lives as this one.
6. RIDDLE OF FIRE (dir. Weston Razooli)
(Currently streaming on MUBI)
One of the great delights of being a film critic (and, I’m sure, one of the great annoyances of knowing a film critic) is when you stumble across a weird, obscure little film which you can then rave about at the drop of a hat. For me this year, that film is Riddle of Fire, a truly strange feature from first-time director Weston Razooli. Riddle of Fire is ostensibly a kiddie adventure in the Goonies vein, but that doesn’t give a sense of the film’s inscrutable aesthetic, which pulls together 16mm photography, dungeon synth music, arcane quasi-mysticism, and an unpredictable streak of absurdist humor. In my review I summed it up as “Stranger Things on mescalin,” and if that description appeals to you I urge you to seek this film out. Then, maybe I won’t be the only one who won’t shut up about it.
5. KINDS OF KINDNESS (dir. Yorgos Lanthimos)
(Currently streaming on Hulu)
Yorgos Lanthimos’ last film, Poor Things, was nominated for eleven Oscars and won four (including, famously, Best Actress for Emma Stone). For his follow-up, released just over six months later, Searchlight Pictures declined to run an awards campaign. This becomes a bit less surprising when one watches Kinds of Kindness, a surreal, abrasive triptych of wacked-out interpersonal relationships in which one of the biggest laughs comes from the image of a dog committing suicide. But if you’re tuned into the film’s mordant, spiky sense of humor, Kinds of Kindness is an endlessly rewarding delight, anchored by one of the best ensemble casts of the year– including Stone, whose work in the third segment in particular is at least as unforgettable as Poor Things’ Bella Baxter. If you’ve ever found yourself chuckling while reading an Otessa Moshfegh novel, Kinds of Kindness is for you.
4. THE BRUTALIST (dir. Brady Corbet)
(Opening Friday, 1/10/25, on 70mm at Coolidge Corner Theatre and Somerville Theatre)
The last thing we see before the off-kilter end credits for Brady Corbet’s The Brutalist is a dedication to the memory of pop idol turned avant-rock legend Scott Walker. This is presumably a nod to Corbet’s working relationship with the singer (he scored the director’s previous film, Vox Lux), but The Brutalist also at times recalls Walker’s later records: dense, sprawling, at times confounding, and horrifyingly beautiful. It is as rich and nuanced a portrait as has ever been painted of the diseased soul of America (I saw it the night before the election, if you can imagine), poured onto the brittle foundation of a career-best performance from Adrien Brody. To return to my earlier note about Conclave: this is a capital-G Great Movie.
3. NOSFERATU (dir. Robert Eggers)
(Opening Wednesday, 12/25, on 35mm at Coolidge Corner Theatre and in theaters everywhere)
I will admit to a bit of hedging here: I’m giving Nosferatu, Robert Eggers’ take on the silent-era vampire classic, the #3 spot to adjust for recency bias, but I strongly suspect that it may in time creep up to the top of this list. The tricky thing about remaking Nosferatu is that one must focus less on the story (which is, after all, a legally-contested retelling of Dracula) and more on the vibe established by F.W. Murnau’s expressionist camera and Max Schreck’s cadaverous performance. There could scarcely be a better fit for that vibe than Eggers, whose 2019 The Lighthouse looks like it could have been exhumed from Count Orlok’s very crypt. Eggers’ Nosferatu is a gothic masterpiece, built on the director’s trademark attention to gloomy detail and Bill Skarsgard’s nightmarish bloodsucker. But its secret weapon is a remarkable Lily-Rose Depp, who mashes up Isabelle Adjani’s presence in Werner Herzog’s 1979 take on the film with her full-body performance in Possession. The whole package is blackhearted perfection, and I suspect I will return to see it many times when it opens later this month.
2. LOVE LIES BLEEDING (dir. Rose Glass)
(Now streaming on MAX)
It’s tempting to say they don’t make movies like Love Lies Bleeding anymore– but did they ever really in the first place? Saint Maud director Rose Glass’s sophomore feature is elevated pulp, a distaff throwback to muscle-man video store revenge flicks starring Kristen Stewart as a greasy gym-rat loner and (an astonishing) Katy O’Brian as her steroid-munching bodybuilder girlfriend. For those who can stand its graphic doses of sex and violence (it delivers on both ends of its title in spades), Love Lies Bleeding is deliriously perverse fun, set in a neon-noir vision of the American west in which an insect-obsessed crime boss played by a fright-wigged Ed Harris fits right in. But it’s also got a genuinely warm heart beating under its mountains of brawn, building right up to its swoonily surreal climax. It’s the most delightfully sick film of the year, with the possible exception of…
1. THE SUBSTANCE (dir. Coralie Fargeat)
(Now streaming on MUBI)
I have heard people complain that Coralie Fargeat’s The Substance “lacks subtlety.” This is, to be sure, unequivocally true. But there have been plenty of subtle films made about society’s cruel double standards regarding ageism and sexism; The Substance is, to my knowledge, the only one whose heroine morphs into a grotesque, drooling flesh-monster who vomits up a tit and then drenches a live television audience with hundreds of gallons of blood spraying from multiple orifices. The Substance is as furiously funny as any midnight movie, but artfully made by a filmmaker who has had it up to here with the chauvinist slobs who run her industry. Credit is due to Demi Moore and Margaret Qualley, playing two sides of the same character with maximum ferocity (it probably won’t happen, but I would love it if this is the movie which finally wins Moore an Oscar). Credit is also due to indie streamer MUBI, who snapped up the film after Universal deemed it “unreleasable” only to turn it into a $100 million phenomenon. Forget “Glicked”; as far as I’m concerned, The Substance is the movie event of 2024.
Stay tuned in the weeks ahead as the rest of the Hassle’s writers unveil their own year-enders!
