2024 Recap
I saw the cinema glow (and saw myself in the reflection)
There is an early moment in writer-director Jane Schoenbrun’s I Saw the TV Glow that permanently burned itself into my psyche. Questioning seventh-grader Owen (Ian Foreman) is participating in one of those gym exercises where the entire class whips a parachute into the air and they all sit down in awe underneath the concave enclosure they’ve created. The colors are a series of pinks, blues, purples, and whites, and as Owen wanders with aimless indifference — or so it erroneously appears — it’s clear he’s on the verge of an emotionally discombobulating epiphany.
This scene is one of many from 2024 that’s stuck with me: A young girl has the image of her mother’s fiery death burned into her irises in Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga. A retired military hand-to-hand combat instructor and grizzled small-town police chief stare one another down in dual showcases of committed force in Rebel Ridge. A fiftysomething former movie star turned aerobics instructor applies and reapplies her makeup before succumbing to suffocating internalized self-loathing born from rigid societal beauty standards she believes she can no longer achieve in The Substance. A high-ranking cardinal in the Catholic Church cradles an escaping turtle as he ponders who should be the next pope in Conclave. The list goes on and on.
I needed all of these films. For a multitude of reasons, this has little to do with the theaters themselves. Escaping the pressures of a fractured and disorienting social and political climate wasn’t just beneficial, it was critical to maintaining my personal sanity. Social media was a cesspool of vitriol and misinformation. Mainstream news sanewashed reprehensible behaviors and statements that went out of fashion in the 1940s, all in the pursuit of ratings and subscriber numbers that are no longer achievable. All of this and more helped make the theater a personal sanctuary.
The strange part? This was a cinematic year in which LGBTQ+ representation (whether fictional narrative or feature-length documentary) was stronger, more complex, and more intellectually compelling than at any point in years, maybe ever. This was especially true when it came to Trans-related endeavors. Schoenbrun’s I Saw the TV Glow, Vera Drew’s The People’s Joker, Dev Patel’s Monkey Man, Josh Greenbaum’s Will & Harper, Levan Akin’s Crossing, and Alice Maio Mackay’s Carnage for Christmas were just a few of the Trans-fueled stories that made a lasting impression.
But there’s more. Edward Berger’s Conclave made homosexuality and the Catholic Church a central facet of its theological discussion, throwing in choice bon mots about gender and intersexuality for good measure. Acclaimed filmmaker Luca Guadagnino began 2024 with the exhilarating Challengers and concluded it with the phantasmagoric Queer. Other notable titles include the broadly mainstream (Wicked, Mean Girls, Miller’s Girl, and Carry-On), international spellbinders (Handling the Undead and Sebastian), and rambunctious indie darlings (Drive-Away Dolls, Love Lies Bleeding, Ponyboi, Bird, and My Old Ass).
Then there is Netflix’s buzzy Emilia Pérez. Acclaimed director Jacques Audiard’s audacious musical-thriller of gender identity and moral rehabilitation recently racked up ten Golden Globe nominations — including Best Picture (Musical or Comedy) and a groundbreaking nod for Karla Sofía Gascón for Best Performance by a Female Actor in a Motion Picture (Musical or Comedy) — to go along with its five awards at the Cannes Film Festival, which included the coveted Palme d’Or.
While I’m thrilled for the multitalented Gascón, Emilia Pérez still was not for me. I found its early sections (including a spectacularly awful musical number set in a Thai surgical center catering to Transgender patients) to be deeply offensive, its central plot to be nothing more than one-dimensional drivel, and its handling of complex issues relating to political corruption, international drug policies, and racial inequities to be shockingly tone-deaf.
Even though I’m certain the filmmakers and actors took on this project with the best of intentions, as positive Queer — especially Trans— representation is concerned, this isn’t it. I felt that Audiard inadvertently supported the most heinous of rightwing stereotypes instead of subverting them, and it infuriated me seeing so many straight, cisgender critics patting themselves on the back for celebrating this messy monstrosity and misconstruing its messaging as progressive when it’s anything but.
But we’re here to celebrate the best of what I saw in 2024, not the titles that drove me up the proverbial wall (I stopped doing worst-of lists a decade ago). Thankfully, there was plenty to love. From the gorily flexible wonders of In a Violent Nature and the cleverly retro romantic sparks of Fly Me to the Moon, to the DIY rambunctiousness of Hundreds of Beavers and the wide-open Western vistas of Horizon: An American Saga – Chapter 1. I could talk all day about titles as varied as Strange Darling, The Beast, Inside Out 2, Thelma, Daddio, A Complete Unknown, and The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare.
Heck, even the better-late-than-never legacy sequel Beverly Hills Cop: Axel F tickled my funny bone. While I adore the original 1984 Eddie Murphy classic as much as anyone, I can’t say that’s a turn of events I saw coming.
Without further ado, the following pages contain my picks for the best films of 2024, along with several other tidbits I hope interested viewers take note of. Enjoy!
– Portions of this feature reprinted courtesy of the SGN in Seattle
