The Best Movies of 2024

For critics, every year-end review of the movies is an exercise in both celebration and consternation. We praise the art form and also lament its inexorable degradation. We highlight our favorites while bemoaning that they didn’t make enough money. We applaud the industry’s democratization and kvetch about studios’ entrenched homogeneity. We rhapsodize about the stuff we adore and snarl that there’s so much else to despise. We write about what’s good and still find a way to feel bad.

And look, I get it. It’s hard not to survey the medium’s financial landscape without shuddering in despair; total grosses seem unlikely to ever return to pre-pandemic levels, and of the 22 movies that did make $100M domestic in 2024, exactly one was a bona fide original (the Ryan Reynolds vehicle IF). The endangered mid-budget drama continues to dwindle with alarming speed, as corporations would rather churn out four-quadrant sequels than finance nominally riskier fare. Higher ticket prices discourage audiences from visiting theaters, especially when they can remain home and gulp down the anodyne content fed to them by streaming algorithms. Teenagers seem more interested in perpetually scrolling through bite-sized videos on their phones than in immersing themselves in dark auditoriums for two hours, and also they won’t get off my lawn.

So, sure, the collective pessimism that grips cinephiles is founded in legitimate uncertainty and fear. And yet, as I do every year, I find myself pushing back against the narrative that things are bad, that art is doomed, that future generations will only hear about theaters from wizened geriatrics rambling about the glory days. The reason for my resistance is simple: There are too many good movies.

So many, and of so many kinds! There are horror flicks (Heretic) and coming-of-age stories (My Old Ass) and weirdo originals that combine strains of both (I Saw the TV Glow). There are family dramas (Ghostlight) and musical biopics (A Complete Unknown) and action thrillers (Rebel Ridge) and post-apocalyptic musicals (The End). There are twisted modern noirs (Love Lies Bleeding) and somber period pieces (Small Things Like These) and unclassifiable whatsits (Kinds of Kindness). There are animated adventures (Flow) and black-and-white comedy epics (Hundreds of Beavers) and dyspeptic love stories (Between the Temples) and sci-fi tragedies (The Beast).

I could go on. But the fact that none of the movies I just mentioned landed on my year-end list, despite all being interesting and worth watching, is a testament to the richness and versatility of the current climate. I don’t pretend that there’s no cause for concern, or that certain trends aren’t distressing. But I’m not ready to shovel dirt on the big screen just yet, because if cinema were dead, it wouldn’t feel this alive.

Here are MovieManifesto’s favorite movies of 2024:

Honorable mention: Ghostlight, Hard Truths, I Saw the TV Glow, Kinds of Kindness, My Old Ass, Rebel Ridge.

20. Strange Darling. JT Mollner’s serpentine thriller may primarily operate as a genre exercise, but it’s an expertly conceived one, with lustrous images and a gratifying mean streak. Playing outsized characters respectively dubbed The Demon and The Lady, Kyle Gallner and especially Willa Fitzgerald embody their archetypes with verve and surprise. (Longer review here; available to rent.)

19. A Different Man. Did you know that Sebastian Stan is good-looking? The impressive makeup job here does its best to conceal his chiseled features, but there’s no camouflaging the force of his talent, which anchors this ambitious, provocative drama that explores how we see others and ourselves. (Capsule here; streaming on Max.)

18. Hit Man. Speaking of handsome movie stars: Glen Powell may look like a matinee idol, but he’s also a gifted actor, and here he delivers the best performance of his burgeoning career, equal parts cagey and charismatic. His sizzling chemistry with Adria Arjona is the high point of Richard Linklater’s caper, which dabbles in noirish intrigue but really just dispenses pure pleasure. (Full review here; streaming on Netflix.)

17. Trap. M. Night Shyamalan may be a clumsy writer, but he’s a surpassingly elegant craftsman, wielding precise framing and fluid camerawork to elevate his hoary suspense constructions. Here, he also elicits a phenomenal star turn from Josh Hartnett, who imbues his sociopath with both deadly calm and disarming tenderness. (Full review here; streaming on Max.)

16. The Substance. Coralie Fargeat has no use for subtlety. But her playful evisceration of modern beauty standards is deceptively meticulous, with vibrant colors and a gleaming aesthetic. The blunt themes are matched by exhilarating craft, never more so than in a body-horror transformation that’s arguably the scene of the year. (Full review here; streaming on MUBI.)

15. Nickel Boys. Not everything in RaMell Ross’ point-of-view experiment works individually, but in totality it becomes a gripping and powerful drama. The audacity of his style is scaled to the anguish of his story, which is why the movie is both a tragedy and a triumph. (Capsule here; available to buy.)

14. Green Border. The story of stateless refugees constantly shuttled from one heartless nation to another, Agnieszka Holland’s wrenching drama is an urgent document of our present moment. It supposedly takes place in Europe, but you could have fooled me. (Capsule here; streaming on Hoopla.)

13. Snack Shack. Adam Rehmeier’s rambunctious coming-of-age comedy is effortlessly enjoyable, with lightning-paced dialogue and strong performances from its young cast (especially the ascendant Gabriel LaBelle). It is also flecked with a wistful longing, not just for its specific era but for its characters’ exquisite innocence. (Capsule here; streaming on Amazon.)

12. Inside Out 2. The year’s best animated movie can’t possibly live up to its predecessor, but it remains a superior sequel, with thoughtful themes, ingenious design, and snappy humor. It may introduce a cadre of pubescent emotions, but it still recognizes the purity of joy. (Full review here; streaming on Disney.)

11. The Promised Land. Mads Mikkelsen’s face is its own landscape, with craggy features and angular beauty. It’s the most arresting sight in Nikolaj Arcel’s sweeping, expansive epic, which contemplates the permanence of class divisions and also the yearning of two people flung together in the wilderness that is society. (Capsule here; streaming on Hulu.)

10. Red Rooms. A courtroom procedural wrapped in a horror movie and glazed with thematic import, Pascal Plante’s thriller showcases the glittering terror of the dark web. As a portrait of technological peril, it’s predictably disturbing; as a character study of obsessive madness, it’s a different kind of haunting, given shape and heft by Juliette Gariépy’s entrancing lead performance as a brilliant young woman whose iron grip slowly begins to slip. (Capsule here; streaming on AMC.)

9. Dune: Part Two. Denis Villeneuve’s inaugural adaptation of Frank Herbert’s novel was exceptionally unexceptional, marshaling mighty technique in service of a faintly banal narrative. This time out, he’s retained his swaggering maximalism but applied it toward a far more slippery and seductive story, one that wrestles with knotty ideas even as it proudly delivers the genre goods. (Full review here; streaming on Netflix and Max.)

8. Longlegs. Things are always slightly off in Osgood Perkins’ pictures—askew framing, atonal sound design, creeping menace. Yet here his distorted style snaps into creepy focus, thanks to a propulsive Silence of the Lambs-inspired plot and an emotionally sophisticated star turn from Maika Monroe. Her syncopated duet with Nicolas Cage leaves you in good hands, even if you never once feel safe. (Full review here; streaming on Hulu.)

7. Juror #2. The greatest small-scale tragedy in 2024’s art world was Warner Bros.’ shameless burial of this courtroom drama, which happens to be Clint Eastwood’s best movie in nearly two decades. A complex morality play that provokes questions about personal responsibility and societal apathy, it’s also a finely wrought piece of suspense filmmaking, with dexterous acting from Nicholas Hoult and Toni Collette. (Capsule here; streaming on Max, guh.)

6. The Brutalist. The year’s most epic production is also one of its most robustly satisfying, thanks to Brady Corbet’s colossal vision and his actors’ commensurately bold performances; Adrien Brody is the wiry body, Guy Pearce is the twisted brain, and Felicity Jones is the purified soul. It’s a film about a very specific era of America’s past, and also a piercing allegory for our turbulent present. (Full review here; available to buy.)

5. Nosferatu. Are we secretly living in a golden age of directorial talent? Robert Eggers’ latest nightmare reinforces his immense pictorial skill, delivering some of the most starkly beautiful images of the year. It also reminds us of his silky way with words, as the shadowy corridors and decrepit catacombs are enhanced by the script’s flavorful dialogue. As its villain gorges on blood, you partake in a feast for both the eyes and the ears. (Full review here; available to rent.)

4. The Outrun. Playing a flailing alcoholic, Saoirse Ronan’s hair is blue and so is her mood. But this is no ordinary depiction of the hazards of addiction. It is instead a vivid character study, weaving scattered moments into a vibrant and joyous tapestry. Director Nora Fingscheidt nervily supplements the story with glimpses of the Orkney Islands’ natural enchantments, while Ronan’s eyes supply a magic all their own. (Full review here; available to rent.)

3. Anora. Sean Baker is cinema’s foremost Rumpelstiltskin, digging into the underbelly of American capitalism and constantly turning grime into gold. Here, as a sex worker’s meager circumstances become a genuine odyssey, Baker interrogates notions of fairytale romance while brewing an intoxicating blend of intrigue, melodrama, and farce. The mostly male supporting cast essays its goons and grunts with empathy and humor, while Mikey Madison towers above them all with her confidence, her ferocity, her unquenched longing. (Full review here; available to rent, coming to Hulu on March 17.)

2. Challengers. The sports movie has rarely felt so vital, so charged, as in Luca Guadagnino’s dazzling love triangle. The actors complement each other perfectly—Zendaya’s clenched intensity, Mike Faist’s aching self-doubt, Josh O’Connor’s arrogant charm—while Guadagnino invests the repetitive ball-striking with startling panache. (That score!) He also manufactures one of the genre’s greatest climaxes, resulting in a collective gasp of (sorry) euphoria. Tennis, everyone? (Full review here; streaming on Amazon.)

1. Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga. You fabulous thing. George Miller’s virtuosity is axiomatic, and his latest sand-blasted epic is a breathtaking display of visual imagination and majestic choreography. Yet beyond that, it is a grand adventure worthy of its showy title, contemplating no less than societal fragility, perpetual warfare, and the nature of history itself. Anya Taylor-Joy is pure steel, while Chris Hemsworth is indecently charismatic as her lifelong nemesis. Movies are dying, you say? To which I answer: not when they’re immortal. (Full review here; streaming on Netflix and Max.)